“Still I am going,” she said, “not for the sake of the stranger who is called Black Windows, but because, if there is a secret way out of Mur I think it well that I should know that way.  Yet I agree with you, my uncle, that on such a journey I ought not to be unprotected, and therefore I pray that you will be ready to start with us at noon, since I am sure that then we shall all be safe.”

Now Joshua began to make excuses, but she would not listen to them.

“No, no,” she said, “you are too honest.  The honour of the Abati is involved in this manner, since, alas! it was an Abati that betrayed Black Windows, and an Abati—­namely, yourself—­must save him.  You have often told me, my uncle, how clever you are at climbing rocks, and now you shall make proof of your skill and courage before these foreigners.  It is a command, speak no more,” and she rose, to show that the audience was finished.

That same afternoon Shadrach, by mountain paths that were known to him, led a little company of people to the crest of the western precipice of Mur.  Fifteen hundred feet or more beneath us lay the great plains upon which, some miles away, could be seen the city of Harmac.  But the idol in the valley we could not see, because here the precipice bent over and hid it from our sight.

“What now, fellow,” said Maqueda, who was clad in the rough sheepskin of a peasant woman, which somehow looked charming upon her.  “Here is the cliff, there lies the plain; I see no road between the two, and my wise uncle, the prince, tells me that he never heard of one.”

“Lady,” answered the man, “now I take command, and you must follow me.  But first let us see that nobody and nothing are lacking.”

Then he went round the company and numbered them.  In all we were sixteen; Maqueda and Joshua, we three Englishmen, armed with repeating rifles and revolvers, our guide Shadrach, and some picked Mountaineers chosen for their skill and courage.  For even in Mur there were brave men left, especially among the shepherds and huntsmen, whose homes were on the cliffs.  These sturdy guides were laden with ropes, lamps, and long, slender ladders that could be strapped together.

When everything had been checked and all the ladders and straps tested, Shadrach went to a clump of bushes which grew feebly on the wind-swept crest of the precipice.  In the midst of these he found and removed a large flat stone, revealing what evidently had been the head of a stair, although now its steps were much worn and crumbled by the water that in the wet season followed this natural drain to the depths below.

“This is that road the ancients made for purposes of their own,” explained Shadrach, “which, as I have said, I chanced to discover when I was a boy.  But let none follow it who are afraid, for it is steep and rough.”

Now Joshua, who was already weary with his long ride and walk up to the crest of the precipice, implored Maqueda almost passionately to abandon the idea of entering this horrid hole, while Oliver backed up his entreaties with few words but many appealing glances, for on this point, though for different reasons, the prince and he were at one.