[Prisoners of Chance by Randall Parrish]@TWC D-Link bookPrisoners of Chance CHAPTER XXXI 3/15
It would bring renewed peace to my soul merely to uplift a paean of victory over the discomfiture of my enemies.
But I seek no quarrel here, and hence bide in silence until a proper moment to unseal my lips." "'Twill be well you do.
Now follow close at my heels, and I 'll promise a swift diversion to your thoughts." Thus cautiously we crept toward the distant flickering of the torch, the unsteady light from which already began to yellow the packed earth about us, until we finally emerged into its full glare.
I had crawled forth, perhaps half my length beyond the concealment of the wooden pillar, and, knife in hand, was stealthily drawing in toward the motionless form of the still slumbering priest, when the roving eyes of Cairnes encountered the idol, with its flashing gems and widely outspread wings, towering above like an avenging demon.
I doubt not the sight was startling to the fellow, terrorized by the underground gloom, and he gave utterance to one gruff cry: "'T is Beelzebub!" The sleeping priest leaped to his feet, glaring about in bewilderment. Where I lay outstretched it required an instant to gather myself for action, and, before I could place restraining grip upon him, the fellow saw us both, and, with echoing scream of terror, fled frantically up the dark entry to the right.
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