The sight of it seemed to fill him with jealous fury; at any rate he
leapt at his rival, intending, apparently, to catch him by the throat.
Alan, who was watching him, stepped aside, so that he came into violet
contact with the wall of the passage and, half-stunned by the shock,
reeled onwards into the darkness.
"The hog!" said the Asika, or rather she hissed it, "the hog, who dared
to touch me and to strike at you. Well, his time is short--would that I
could make it shorter! Did you hear what he sought of me?"
Alan, who wished for no confidences, replied by asking what the Mungana
was doing in the Treasure House, to which she answered that the spirits
who dwelt there were eating up his soul, and when they had devoured it
all he would go quite mad and kill himself.
"Does this happen to all Munganas?" inquired Alan.
"Yes, Vernoon, if the Asika hates them, but if she loves them it is
otherwise. Come, let us forget the wretch, who would kill you if he
could," and she led the way into the hall and up it, passing between the
heaps of gold.
On the table where lay the necklaces of gems she set down her lamp,
whereof the light, all there was in that great place, flickered feebly
upon the mask of Little Bonsa, which had been moved here apparently for
some ceremonial purpose, and still more feebly upon the hideous, golden
countenances and winding sheets of the ancient, yellow dead who stood
around in scores placed one above the other, each in his appointed
niche.
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