And so, if at other times within the past few weeks Bertha Kircher had felt that her situation was particularly hopeless, she was now ready to admit that hope was absolutely extinct.
The streets were beginning to fill with the strange men and women of this strange city. Sometimes individuals would notice them and seem to take a great interest in them, and again others would pass with vacant stares, seemingly unconscious of their immediate surroundings and paying no attention whatsoever to the prisoners. Once they heard hideous screams up a side street, and looking they saw a man in the throes of a demoniacal outburst of rage, similar to that which they had witnessed in the recent attack upon Smith-Oldwick. This creature was venting his insane rage upon a child which he repeatedly struck and bit, pausing only long enough to shriek at frequent intervals. Finally, just before they passed out of sight the creature raised the limp body of the child high above his head and cast it down with all his strength upon the pave-ment, and then, wheeling and screaming madly at the top of his lungs, he dashed headlong up the winding street.
Two women and several men had stood looking on at the cruel attack. They were at too great a distance for the Euro-peans to know whether their facial expressions portrayed pity or rage, but be that as it may, none offered to interfere.
A few yards farther on a hideous hag leaned from a second story window where she laughed and jibbered and made hor-rid grimaces at all who passed her. Others went their ways apparently attending to whatever duties called them, as soberly as the inhabitants of any civilized community.
"God," muttered Smith-Oldwick, "what an awful place!"The girl turned suddenly toward him. "You still have your pistol?" she asked him.
"Yes," he replied. "I tucked it inside my shirt. They did not search me and it was too dark for them to see whether Icarried any weapons or not. So I hid it in the hope that I might get through with it."She moved closer to him and took hold of his hand. "Save one cartridge for me, please?" she begged.
Smith-Oldwick looked down at her and blinked his eyes very rapidly. An unfamiliar and disconcerting moisture had come into them. He had realized, of course, how bad a plight was theirs but somehow it had seemed to affect him only:
it did not seem possible that anyone could harm this sweet and beautiful girl.
And that she should have to be destroyed -- destroyed by him! It was too hideous: it was unbelievable, unthinkable! If he had been filled with apprehension before, he was doubly perturbed now.
"I don't believe I could do it, Bertha," he said.
"Not even to save me from something worse?" she asked.
He shook his head dismally. "I could never do it," he re-plied.
The street that they were following suddenly opened upon a wide avenue, and before them spread a broad and beautiful lagoon, the quiet surface of which mirrored the clear cerulean of the sky. Here the aspect of all their surroundings changed.
The buildings were higher and much more pretentious in de-sign and ornamentation. The street itself was paved in mosaics of barbaric but stunningly beautiful design. In the ornamen-tation of the buildings there was considerable color and a great deal of what appeared to be gold leaf. In all the decora-tions there was utilized in various ways the conventional figure of the parrot, and, to a lesser extent, that of the lion and the monkey.
