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But once or twice her face faded from his mental vision and in its stead he seemed to see again the surly stare, the evil eyes, and venomously sinister expression of H'yemba, the resourceful man of fire and of steel. After many hours of profound and dreamless sleep, Allan awoke filled with fresh vigor for the tasks that lay ahead.
The landslide smote ye, and enemies came enemies far more terrible than the dreaded Lanskaarn ye fought in the Abyss! But a little more and ye had all died with battle and disaster. Only my hand alone saved ye all who still live to breathe this upper air. "Men! Ye beheld my doing with the earthquake and the Horde! Ye beheld, too, my answer to H'yemba, the evil man, the rebel and traitor.
He had not long to wonder, for of a sudden H'yemba wheeled on him, pointed him out with vibrant hands, and in a voice of terrible anger cried: "The law, the law of old! No man shall be chief who does not take a wife from out our people! None who weds one of the Lanskaarn, the island folk, or the yellow-haired Skeri beyond the Vortex, none such shall ever rule us.
Stern saw the detested figure of H'yemba standing there, loose-hung, powerful, barbaric, his eyes blinking evilly behind the mica screens that Allan himself had made for him. With a cry Allan started forward. "My son!" he gasped. There, clutched in the smith's left arm, lay the boy! Allan heard his child crying as in pain, and rage swept every caution to the winds.
He sprang toward H'yemba, cursing; but the smith, with a beast-laugh, raised his right hand. "Master!" he mocked. "No nearer or ye die!" Allan, aghast, saw the flicker of sunlight on a pistol-barrel. With only too true an aim, H'yemba had him covered. Came a little pause, tense as steel wire. Somewhere down the terrace sounded a murmur of voices.
Tallying up matters and things on the evening of the twelfth day, as they sat once more on the terrace in front of Cliff Villa, he inventoried the situation thus: 1 Twenty-six of the Folk are dead. 2 H'yemba is disposed of praise be! 3 Forty still survive twenty-eight men, nine women, three children.
With a cry she dashed it full into his glaring eyes. So sudden was the attack that H'yemba had no time even to ward it off with his hands. Fair in the face the scorching flame struck home. Howling, blinded, stricken, he staggered back; beat the air with vain blows and retreated toward the door.
And boldly, in a loud voice, he cried: "Folk of the Merucaans, this cannot be!" "It cannot be? Who says it cannot be? Who dares stand out and challenge me?" "I, H'yemba, the man of iron and of flame!" Stern faced him, every nerve and fiber quivering with sudden passion.
And among them all, those who had not seen as well as those that had, the sudden, dramatic, annihilating downfall of H'yemba had again cemented the bonds of solidarity more closely than ever. The sight of that arch-rebel's body hurled from the parapet had effectually tamed them, every one. No longer was there any murmur in their caves, no thought save of obedience and worship.
Only the name of H'yemba and some few disconnected mutterings of terror rewarded him. He knew now, however, with positive certainty that the smith was responsible for the kidnapping of his son. "And that," said he, "means I must seek him out at once. All I ask is just one sight of him. One sight, one bullet and the score is paid!"
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