The heat was intense, yet the natives did not seem to notice it, and they led Alan to a pillar that rose near the high altar, bound him to it by a heavy chain, and then left him there, alone. He watched his captors disappear one by one. His brain was reeling. He wondered whether all he had seen was but the result of fever, and he would wake up presently to find himself in Mrs. Slater’s pretty little cottage at Marshfielden. But no, he knew he was awake and not dreaming,—and looked about him in bewilderment. That there were people living in the centre of the earth he would never have believed—yet here was the proof—for was he not a captive in their clutches? He looked at the fire. Never before had he seen anything like it. It seemed to go deep into fathomless depths, and its flames danced and sang and crackled maliciously. He wondered whether he would be thrown into its fiery bosom by the purple folk, and shivered to think of it, but then a feeling of relief came over him. After all it would be a quick death, for nothing could live long in those hungry flames. Immediately opposite him was the high altar. Six steps led up to it, and he looked with interest at them and at the red stains they bore; and with an uncanny laugh, asked himself whether these were blood. If so, whose? Round the walls on pedestals were huge, grotesque figures; and interposed here and there, an image of almost seraphic beauty, that contrasted strangely with the insidious cruelty and hideousness of the place. To the right of Alan was a still more grotesque figure. About twenty feet high it stood, with cruel eyes looking out across the fire. Its jaws were open wide, and attached to the under jaw was a peculiar slide made of the same transparent glass-like substance that encircled the flames. This slide reached from the idol’s mouth to the edge of the furnace, and suddenly drops of perspiration stood out thick on Alan’s brow. The meaning of the slide was only too clear. The victims of these underground savages were forced inside the idol, disgorged by it on to the slide, and thrown into the fire—a living sacrifice. Time passed, and Alan wondered dimly whether he would ever be able to reckon it again. Suddenly upon his ear came wild yells and fanatical shrieks, the banging of drums, the clashing of cymbals followed by discordant singing. Then the din quieted a little, only to reassert itself once more as the natives reached the door of their temple. Alan gasped in horror as a horde of grinning purple men swarmed into the place, two of whom left their places in the procession, and coming to him caught hold of him roughly.