“Nay; the words are true,” I went on, determined to drive him by taunts.  “They are neither foul nor false, and right glad I am to discover your real character even at this eleventh hour.  I make no loud boasting of my religion, dinning it into the ears of all I meet as if I were the only righteous man on earth, but I do thank God from the depths of my heart I have never yet basely deserted a friend in time of trouble.  I did consider you a good comrade, but I know now you are nothing but a whited sepulchre, a miserable hypocrite, a Judas betraying his master with a kiss.  Pah! go your way, you are unclean; nor ever hope again for word of fellowship from lips of honest men.  I shall die having performed my duty to the extent of my knowledge, but you as a dog, a traitor to your comrades, the betrayer of a woman in time of peril.”

“’Tis false, I say; I would yield life gladly to aid her.”

“Zounds! that sounds good from such lips.  Why, you have just refused much less.”

“Yonder is an emissary of the Evil One.”

“Keep your cowardly excuses to yourself.  Whatever the woman may be, she offers us a chance for our lives, provided only you will perform her will in sundry matters.”

He hesitated, his uncertain eyes shifting from her face to mine.

“What does this scarlet priestess of Baal require that I do?” he questioned sullenly.

“Good lack, ’tis little enough even to satisfy your conscience.  Merely that you stand beside her on the platform, pretending converse, marking carefully her every signal, and obeying it.”

“I play no idolatrous mummery with her.”

“Then may the devil fly away with you,” I retorted, so enraged by this time I could scarcely refrain from grappling him with my hands.  “I go to tell Madame of the fool you are.”

He gave vent to a deep groan, rolling his eyes as was his habit in time of trial, yet never removing his gaze from that red figure, standing motionless as a statue, impatiently awaiting his decision.

“In the name of the holy prophets of Israel!” he snorted desperately at last. “’T is, indeed, a grievous trial like unto that which befell Daniel in the den of the lions.  If I go upon yonder sinful platform before these hosts of Satan, it will be only as led by the Almighty, and that I may wrestle mightily in prayer for the redemption of the heathen.”

“I care not, man, so you go.  Pray loud as you please, yet give heed to the signals of the woman if you value your own life or ours.”

Odds! it was a picture to see the fellow start on his unwelcome mission, slouching through the ranks of the surprised savages with as hangdog a look on his mournful countenance as though he mounted the gallows.  It was with faint hope as to the result that I watched him lumber onto the platform, doubting not he would perform some crazy trick to offset any good he might endeavor.  I could scarce restrain