Then suddenly a wave of fury swept over him, and with might and main he strove to release his hands from the manacles. Like a madman he fought and tore, but the chains held him like a vice, and presently, with bleeding hands and wrists, he ceased his efforts. Bowing his head that he might not see the grim form of his destroyer, he stood awaiting his doom. Yet at that moment, although he knew it not, help was at hand. Even while he thought himself within an ace of Eternity; when the great spider, but a few yards from its victim, was crouching for a spring, and the savage hordes in the temple were watching eagerly for the final scene of the tragedy, a shout came pealing downward from above. Aroused, Mervyn looked up. The sight that met his eyes sent the hope rushing back into his heart, and set every nerve in his body tingling with a wild desire to live. CHAPTER XV. FOR A FRIEND’S LIFE. “SAY, Seymour?” “Well?” inquired the baronet sleepily. “I guess it’s time to be moving.” Yawning, Seymour rose and stretched himself. “Just rouse Pharaoh there,” Haverly went on, as he slung his rifle over his shoulder. Moving over to a corner of the cave, the baronet prodded the sleeping savage in the ribs. With a guttural cry the creature rose, shook himself like a dog, and stood awaiting orders. “I guess you’d better drop it to him as we want to strike for this yer temple right now,” drawled the Yankee. Seymour interpreted the message, whereupon Gehari affirmed, with many vigorous movements of his hands, that he could lead the great chief and his friend by a secret road, known only to himself and to one other who was dead, which would take them right to the den of the sacred beast. “Lead on, then,” cried Seymour, “but beware how you deal with us. Serve us well, and you shall be rewarded; betray us, and you shall die by the fire-sticks.” He tapped his rifle significantly as he spoke, and the savage, having been a witness of the death of the great serpent, seemed to fully comprehend. He flung himself down upon the cavern floor and pressed his forehead to the baronet’s boots; then, rising, he moved swiftly outside. The two rescuers followed, Haverly covering with his revolver the hideous form of their savage guide. Amid the boulders which lined the base of the hills the three threaded their way, darting into hiding occasionally to escape the notice of some passing savage. For perhaps a mile they moved in this fashion, then Gehari turned into a narrow gully, between two enormous peaks. So high were the walls on either side that the defile was dark as midnight, and the American was strongly tempted to use his lantern. “What an ideal spot for an ambush!” Seymour remarked in a whisper. “That’s so,” returned Haverly in the same low tone; “I’ll be considerable relieved when we’re through.”