A few more steps and he was almost within sight of them.

He slackened his pace and approached more stealthily until only a little screen of bushes separated him from the village and, peering through them, he saw a sight which made his blood run cold within him.
They had the boy! He was there, in that fantastic circle bound hand and foot, but so far as he could see, at present unhurt.

His face was turned to Trent, white and a little scared, but his lips were close-set and he uttered no sound.

By his side stood a man with a native knife dancing around and singing--all through the place were sounds of wailing and lamentation, and in front of his hut the King was lying, with an empty bottle by his side, drunk and motionless.

Trent's anger grew fiercer as he watched.