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Updated: June 22, 2025
"Well," said the black, "he promised to get Djalma to come hither this evening, and, once amongst us, he must needs be our own." "Was it not the Smuggler who told us to order the Malay to enter the ajoupa of Djalma, to surprise him during his sleep, and, instead of killing him as he might have done, to trace the name of Bowanee upon his arm?
In my turn, I will take the freedom just to observe to you, in all humility, M. Faringhea, that here it is not permitted to strangle anybody, and that if you were to think fit to make any corpses for the love of Bowanee, your goddess, we should make you a head shorter, for the love of another divinity commonly called justice." "And what would they do to me, if I tried to poison any one?"
"What is that to me?" said Rodin, in a sharp voice, but hardly able to dissemble his growing anxiety. "It concerns you nearly. We sons of Bowanee have a horror of shedding blood," resumed Faringhea; "to pass the cord round the neck of our victims, we wait till they are asleep. When their sleep is not deep enough, we know how to make it deeper.
I now feel myself more worthy to kneel before my angel." And Djalma went out, on his way to the appointment with Adrienne. In spite of his ferocity, in spite of the pitiless hate he bore to the whole human race, the dark sectary of Bowanee was staggered by the noble and clement words of Djalma, and said to himself, with terror, "I have taken his hand. He is now sacred for me."
"Thank heaven, you will never be asked for such proofs of your submission." "What I am ordered I do. Bowanee sees me." "I do not doubt your zeal.
He replied, therefore: "This comparison between Rome and Bowanee is no doubt very amusing; but what, sir, do you deduce from it?" "I wish to show you, brother, what I am, and of what I am capable, to convince you that it is better to have me for a friend than an enemy."
Good-bye but for the last time swear to me that, should matters so turn out, as soon as you receive the other half of the ivory crucifix I have just given you, you will keep your promise." "I have sworn it by Bowanee, my lord." "Don't forget that, to make all sure, the person who will deliver to you the other half of the crucifix is to say come, what is he to say?"
"In this letter," resumed Faringhea, "Van Dael tells you that the greatest glory of your Order is to make 'a corpse of man. Our work also is to make corpses of men. Man's death is sweet to Bowanee." "But sir," cried Rodin, "M. Van Dael speaks of the soul, of the will, of the mind, which are to be brought down by discipline." "It is true you kill the soul, and we the body.
How had Faringhea, the sanguinary worshipper of Bowanee, the Divinity of Murder, been brought to seek or to accept such humble functions? How came this man, possessed of no vulgar talents, whose passionate eloquence and ferocious energy had recruited many assassins for the service of the Good Work, to resign himself to so base a condition?
I saw funerals everywhere, and lighted torches, in the midst of the black night, shining upon tombs. Bowanee smiled in her ebon sky. As I thought of that divinity of destruction, I beheld with joy the dead-cart emptied of its coffins. The immense pit yawned like the mouth of hell; corpses were heaped upon corpses, and still it yawned the same.
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