"Welcome, friend," he said. "Tell me, why have you deserted me of late?
Have you been ill?"
"No, Messenger," answered Hokosa, "that is, not in my body. I have been sick at heart, and therefore I have not come."
"What, Hokosa, do your doubts still torment you? I thought that my prayers had been heard, and that power had been given me to set them at rest for ever. Man, let me hear the trouble, and swiftly, for cannot you who are a doctor see that I shall not be here for long to talk with you?
My days are numbered, Hokosa, and my work is almost done."
"I know it," answered Hokosa. "And, Messenger, _my_ days are also numbered."
"How is this?" asked Owen, "seeing that you are well and strong. Does an enemy put you in danger of your life?"
"Yes, Messenger, and I myself am that enemy; for to-day I, who am no longer fit to live, must die by my own hand. Nay, listen and you will say that I do well, for before I go I would tell you all. Messenger, you are doomed, are you not? Well, it was I who doomed you. That fruit which you ate a while ago was poisoned, and by my hand, for I am a master of such arts. From the beginning I hated you, as well I might, for had you not worsted me and torn power from my grasp, and placed the people and the king under the rule of another G.o.d? Therefore, when all else failed, I determined to murder you, and I did the deed by means of that woman who not long ago was hung for the killing of her sister, though in truth she was innocent." And he told him what had pa.s.sed between himself and the woman, and told him also of the plot which he had hatched to kill Nodwengo and the Christians, and to set Hafela on the throne.
"She was innocent," he went on, "but I am guilty. How guilty you and I know alone. Do you remember that day when you ate the fruit, how after it I accompanied you to the church yonder and listened to your preaching? "Your sin shall find you out," you said, and of a surety mine has found me out. For, Messenger, it came about that in listening to you then and afterwards, I grew to love you and to believe the words you taught, and therefore am I of all men the most miserable, and therefore must I, who have been great and the councillor of kings, perish miserably by the death of a dog.
"Now curse me, and let me go."
CHAPTER XVII
THE LOOSING OF NOMA
When Owen heard that it was Hokosa who had poisoned him, he groaned and hid his face in his hands, and thus he remained till the evil tale was finished. Now he lifted his head and spoke, but not to Hokosa.
"O G.o.d," he said, "I thank Thee that at the cost of my poor life Thou hast been pleased to lead this sinner towards the Gate of Righteousness, and to save alive those whom Thou hast sent me to gather to Thy Fold."
Then he looked at Hokosa and said:--
"Unhappy man, is not your cup full enough of crime, and have you not sufficiently tempted the mercy of Heaven, that you would add to all your evil deeds that of self-murder?"
"It is better to die to-day by my own hand," answered Hokosa, "than to-morrow among the mockery of the people to fall a victim to your vengeance, Messenger."
"Vengeance! Did I speak to you of vengeance? Who am I that I should take vengeance upon one who has repented? Hokosa, freely do I forgive you all, even as in some few days I hope to be forgiven. Freely and fully from my heart do I forgive you, nor shall my lips tell one word of the sin that you have worked against me."
Now, when Hokosa heard those words, for a moment he stared stupefied; then he fell upon his knees before Owen, and bowing his head till it touched the teacher"s feet, he burst into bitter weeping.
"Rise and hearken," said Owen gently. "Weep not because I have shown kindness to you, for that is my duty and no more, but for your sins in your own heart weep now and ever. Yet for your comfort I tell you that if you do this, of a surety they shall be forgiven to you. _Hokosa, you have indeed lost that which you loved, and henceforth you must follow after that which you did not desire. In the very grave of error you have found truth, and from the depths of sin you shall pluck righteousness.
Ay, that Cross which you deemed accursed shall lift you up on high, for by it you shall be saved._"
Hokosa heard and shivered.
"Who set those words between your lips, Messenger?" he whispered.
"Who set them, Hokosa? Nay, I know not--or rather, I know well. He set them Who teaches us to speak all things that are good."
"It must be so, indeed," replied Hokosa. "Yet I have heard them before; I have heard them from the lips of the dead, and with them went this command: that when they fell upon my ears again I should "take them for a sign, and let my heart be turned.""
"Tell me that tale," said Owen.
So he told him, and this time it was the white man who trembled.
"Horrible has been your witchcraft, O Son of Darkness!" said Owen, when he had finished; "yet it would seem that it was permitted to you to find truth in the pit of sorcery. Obey, obey, and let your heart be turned.
The dead told you that you should be set high above the nation and its king, and that saying I cannot read, though it may be fulfilled in some fashion of which to-day you do not think. At the least, the other saying is true, that in the end comes judgment, and that there shall the sin and the atonement strive together; therefore for judgment prepare yourself. And now depart, for I must talk with the king as to this matter of the onslaught of Hafela."
"Then, that will be the signal for my death, for what king can forgive one who has plotted such treachery against him?" said Hokosa.
"Fear not," answered Owen, "I will soften his heart. Go you into the church and pray, for there you shall be less tempted; but before you go, swear to me that you will work no evil on yourself."
"I swear it, Messenger, since now I desire to live, if only for awhile, seeing that death shuts every door."
Then he went to the church and waited there. An hour later he was summoned, and found the king seated with Owen.
"Man," said Nodwengo, "I am told by the Messenger here that you have knowledge of a plot which my brother the Prince Hafela has made to fall treacherously upon me and put me and my people to the spear. How you come to be acquainted with the plot, and what part you have played in it, I will not now inquire, for so much have I promised to the Messenger. Yet I warn you it will be well that you should tell me all you know, and that should you lie to me or attempt to deceive me, then you shall surely die."
"King, hear all the truth," answered Hokosa in a voice of desperate calm. "I have knowledge of the plot, for it was I who wove it; but whether or not Hafela will carry it out altogether I cannot say, for as yet no word has reached me from him. King, this was the plan that I made." And he told him everything.
"It is fortunate for you, Hokosa," said Nodwengo grimly when he had finished, "that I gave my word to the Messenger that no harm should come to you, seeing that you have repented and confessed. This is certain, that Hafela has listened to your evil counsels, for I gave my consent to his flight from this land with all his people, and already his women and children have crossed the mountain path in thousands. Well, this I swear, that their feet shall tread it no more, for where they are thither he shall go to join them, should he chance to live to do so.
Hokosa, begone, and know that day and night you will be watched. Should you so much as dare to approach one of the gates of the Great Place, that moment you shall die."
"Have no fear, O King," said Hokosa humbly, "for I have emptied all my heart before you. The past is the past, and cannot be recalled. For the future, while it pleases you to spare me, I am the most loyal of your servants."
"Can a man empty a spring with a pitcher?" asked the king contemptuously. "By to-morrow this heart of yours may be full again with the blackest treachery, O master of sin and lies. Many months ago I spared you at the prayer of the Messenger; and now at his prayer I spare you again, yet in doing so I think that I am foolish."
"Nay, I will answer for him," broke in Owen. "Let him stay here with me, and set your guard without my gates."
"How do I know that he will not murder you, friend?" asked the king.
"This man is a snake whom few can nurse with safety."
"He will not murder me," said Owen smiling, "because his heart is turned from evil to good; also, there is little need to murder a dying man."
"Nay, speak not so," said the king hastily; "and as for this man, be it as you will. Come, I must take counsel with my captains, for our danger is near and great."
So it came about that Hokosa stayed in the house of Owen.
On the morrow the Great Place was full of the bustle of preparation, and by dawn of the following day an _impi_ of some seventeen thousand spears had started to ambush Hafela and his force in a certain wooded defile through which he must pa.s.s on his way to the mountain pa.s.s where his women and children were gathered. The army was not large, at least in the eyes of the People of Fire who, before the death of Umsuka and the break up of the nation, counted their warriors by tens of thousands.
But after those events the most of the regiments had deserted to Hafela, leaving to Nodwengo not more than two-and-twenty thousand spears upon which he could rely. Of these he kept less than a third to defend the Great Place against possible attacks, and all the rest he sent to fall upon Hafela far away, hoping there to make an end of him once and for all. This counsel the king took against the better judgment of many of his captains, and as the issue proved, it was mistaken.
When Owen told Hokosa of it, that old general shrugged his shoulders.
"The king would have done better to keep his regiments at home," he said, "and fight it out with Hafela here, where he is well prepared.
Yonder the country is very wide, and broken, and it may well chance that the _impi_ will miss that of Hafela, and then how can the king defend this place with a handful, should the prince burst upon him at the head of forty thousand men? But who am I that I should give counsel for which none seek?"
"As G.o.d wills, so shall it befall," answered Owen wearily; "but oh! the thought of all this bloodshed breaks my heart. I trust that its beatings may be stilled before my eyes behold the evil hour."
On the evening of that day Hokosa was baptised. The ceremony took place, not in the church, for Owen was too weak to go there, but in the largest room of his house and before some few witnesses chosen from the congregation. Even as he was being signed with the sign of the cross, a strange and familiar attraction caused the convert to look up, and behold, before him, watching all with mocking eyes, stood Noma his wife.
At length the rite was finished, and the little audience melted away, all save Noma, who stood silent and beautiful as a statue, the light of mockery still gleaming in her eyes. Then she spoke, saying:--
"I greet you, Husband. I have returned from doing your business afar, and if this foolishness is finished, and the white man can spare you, I would talk with you alone."