At once the Asika, who was watching Vernon's approach through the eye-holes in the Little Bonsa mask, said fiercely: "Who bade you strike the servant of my guest, O Mungana?
Let him come also that he may stand behind us and interpret." Her wretched husband, who knew that this public slight was put upon him purposely, but did not dare to protest against it, bowed his head.

Then all three of them climbed to the dais, the priests and the musicians remaining below.
"Welcome, Vernoon," said the Asika through the lips of the mask, which to Alan, notwithstanding the dreadful cruelty of its expression, looked less hateful than the lovely, tigerish face it hid.

"Welcome and be seated here on my left hand, since on my right you may not sit--as yet." He bowed and took the chair to which she pointed, while her husband placed himself in the other chair upon her right, and Jeekie stood behind, his great shape towering above them all.
"This is a festival of my people, Vernoon," she went on, "such a festival as has not been seen for years, celebrated because Little Bonsa has come back to them." "What is to happen ?" he asked uneasily.

"I have told you, Lady, that blood is _orunda_ to me.

I must not witness it." "I know, be not afraid," she answered.