A number of rats had discovered his presence, and they came out of a hole in the wall to sniff at his hands and legs. He hissed them off, and they scampered out of sight. But soon they came back, re-enforced by others; and, when he hissed again, they merely retreated to the side of the cell, evidently realizing that he could not come after them. At last one old rat, probably the father of the colony, advanced, and proceeded to sample the flesh of one of Gilbert’s lower limbs. The yell the young lieutenant gave echoed and re-echoed throughout the cell; and for the minute every rat disappeared, but only for the minute. Then they came back, in greater numbers than ever, and ran all over Gilbert’s body. Try his best, the young officer could not fight off the rodents; and he was just beginning to think that he might be eaten up alive, when the cell door opened, and the Buddhist priest appeared, along with his follower. The pair saw at once the cause of the disturbance, and quickly chased the rats out of sight, slaying none of them; for to the Buddhists animal life is sacred. The rats having been disposed of, a short talk followed between the priest and his man; and then the latter caught Gilbert up in his arms, and threw the lieutenant over his shoulder as if he were a bag of flour. Leaving the cell, they ascended a long flight of stone steps, and soon reached the floor of the joss house. The scene that greeted Gilbert surprised him greatly. In one corner of the gloomy building was a large idol, having one arm up and another down and three eyes, the third being set in the middle of the forehead. In front of this idol rested seven burning joss sticks and three platters of cornmeal, all in a semicircle. In the centre of the semicircle rested a square block of wood, and beside this an axe. The edge of the axe and the top of the block were besmeared with what looked like human blood; and, as he gazed at these implements of the Chinese executioner’s trade, he could not help but shiver. At this the priest’s follower laughed softly; but, turning, the Buddhist struck the man on the mouth, upon which he relapsed into immediate silence. Reaching the block, the priest motioned his helper to put Gilbert down; and at the same time the holy man began a low chant, which at the opening sounded like a hive of bees when about to swarm. Gradually, the chanting became louder; and the priest then walked around the idol a dozen times or more, hitting it in various places and pounding his forehead and his hips repeatedly. At the end of the chant he threw himself flat, and remained in this position for fully five minutes. The whole ceremony was so curious that Gilbert would have been deeply interested had he not felt that it was but the forerunner of some attack upon himself.