CHAPTER XV MY EXECUTION I have several times been in danger of a violent death, and yet I still survive. “No man can evade his fate,” said the Crooked One; yet it is equally true that no man knows or can foresee his fate. One who frequently escapes death learns to fall back upon philosophy and ceases to worry overmuch. I must have fallen asleep after a time, for when I opened my eyes the sun was flooding the room and my usual breakfast of milk and fruits stood upon the bench near me. I had scarcely finished the meal when in came a dozen Faytan warriors, headed by the Crooked One himself. “Are you ready?” he asked. “What if I am not?” I retorted. “You intend I shall go with you, of course.” He inclined his head gravely—not mockingly. Even he, standing in the presence of death, respected my feelings. They did not bind me, but led me out between close files of the warriors. In the square was a vast crowd, silent and attentive. With my guard I passed to the east and took the broadest thoroughfare—that leading to the bay. I had never been in this direction before, but I remembered seeing the water front from the airship when Joe and I first entered the city. The crowd swayed back to let us pass and then closed up behind us, following after in a long procession. It was not far to the beautiful landlocked bay before which the Pearl City had been built, and when it came into full view I found the water thickly covered with boats of every description. The entire populace seemed to have turned out to witness my execution, and the occasion partook of the nature of a festival, for boats, barges and buildings were gay with the peculiar banners these people use for decoration. They were of all colors and shapes, and every one was bordered with pearls. One of the biggest flat-bottomed barges, manned by a score of oarsmen, lay at the foot of the street waiting to receive us. I stepped aboard, the guards followed and the Crooked One took a seat beside me. Then, while the crowd scrambled for all the empty boats remaining, our oarsmen dipped their paddles and we moved slowly away toward the center of the bay. A clear space, several hundred feet in diameter, had been left for my exclusive use, and I looked at it rather disapprovingly because the clear, smooth stretch of water was destined, seemingly, to extinguish all my future hopes and ambitions. Death by drowning may be a merciful mode of execution, but I do not think any condemned person can look with composure upon death in any form. For my part I took a sudden aversion to water, although I had always loved it before.