"Kamaiakan!" repeated the other, raising her voice, and not hearing Freeman's last words. Kamaiakan was nowhere to be seen.
Both Freeman and she had supposed that he was following on behind the mule; but he had either dropped behind, or had withdrawn somewhere. "O Kamaiakan!" shouted Freeman, as loud as he could.
A distant hail, from the direction of the desert, seemed to reply.
"That can't be he," said Freeman. "It was at least a quarter of a mile off, and the wrong direction, too. He's in the gorge, if he's anywhere."
"Hark!" said Semitzin.
They listened, and detected a low murmur, this time from the gorge.
"He's fallen down and hurt himself," said Freeman. "Let's go after him."
In a few moments they stumbled upon the old Indian, reclining with his shoulders against a rock, and gasping heavily.
"My princess," he whispered, as she bent over him, "I am dying. The poisonous air in the cave was fatal to me, though the spell that is upon the Golden Fleece protected you. I have done what the gods commanded. I am absolved of my vow.
The treasure is safe."
"Nonsense! you're all right!" exclaimed Freeman. "Here, take a pull at this flask.
It did me all the good in the world!"
But the old man put it aside, with a feeble gesture of the hand. "My time is come,----" said he.--"Semitzin, I have been faithful."
"Semitzin, again!" muttered Freeman.
"What does it mean?"
"But what is this?" cried the girl, suddenly starting to her feet. "I feel the sleep coming on me again! I feel Miriam returning!
Kamaiakan, have you betrayed me at the last?"
"No, no, princess, I have done nothing," said he, in a voice scarcely audible. "But, with death, the strength of my will goes from me, and I can no longer keep you in this world. The spirit of Miriam claims her rightful body, and you must struggle against her alone. The gods will not be defied: it is the law!"
His voice sank away into nothing, and his beard drooped upon his breast.
"He's dying, sure enough, poor old chap," said Freeman. "But what is all this about? I never heard anything like this language you two talk together."
Semitzin turned towards him, and her eyes were blazing.
"She shall not have you!" she cried. "I have won you--I have saved you--you are mine! What is Miriam? Can she be to you what I could be?--You shall never have him!" she continued, seeming to address some presence invisible to all eyes but hers.
"If I must go, you shall go with me!"
She fumbled in her belt, caught the handle of a knife there, and drew it. She lifted it against her heart; but even then there was an uncertainty in her movement, as if her mind were divided against itself, or had failed fully to retain the thread of its purpose. But Freeman, who had passed rapidly from one degree of bewilderment to another, was actually relieved to see, at last, something that he could understand. Miriam-- for some reason best known to herself--was about to do herself a mischief. He leaped forward, caught her in his arms, and snatched the knife from her grasp.
For a few moments she struggled like a young tiger. And it was marvellous and appalling to hear two voices come from her, in alternation, or confusedly mingled. One said, "Let me kill her! I will not go!
Keep back, you pale-faced girl!" and then a lower, troubled voice, "Do not let her come!
Her face is terrible! What are those strange creatures with her? Harvey, where are you?"
At last, with a fierce cry, that died away in a shuddering sigh, the form of flesh and blood, so mysteriously possessed, ceased to struggle, and sank back in Freeman's arms. His own strength was well-nigh at an end. He laid her on the ground, and, sitting beside her, drew her head on his knee. He had been in the land of spirits, contending with unknown powers, and he was faint in mind and body.
Yet he was conscious of the approaching tread of horses' feet, and recollected the hail that had come from the desert. Soon loomed up the shadowy figures of mounted men, and they came so near that he was constrained to call out, "Mind where you're going! You'll be over us!"
"Who are you?" said a voice, which sounded like that of General Trednoke, as they reined up.
"There's Kamaiakan, who's dead; and Miriam Trednoke, who has been out of her mind, but she's got over it now, I guess; and I,--Harvey Freeman."
"My daughter!" exclaimed General Trednoke.
"My boy!" cried Professor Meschines.
"Well, thank God we've found you, and that some of you are alive, at any rate!"
