While the village slowly recovered from the effects of this dreadful calamity and the uninjured were caring for their less fortunate brethren, our party was ushered into a comfortable apartment of the palace and given food and drink and such comforts as the place afforded.

We saw nothing of Ilalah at the time, for with those chiefs left to her she was doing her best to relieve the misery of the stricken village. Moit was with her, alert and active, keeping constantly by her side and eagerly assisting her in the work of mercy. This I learned afterward. Just then I imagined him frantic with grief and despair, and I found myself regretting the destruction of his great invention even more than the loss of life caused by the explosive. The dead were unimportant savages; the machine that had perished with them was the most splendid achievement, I firmly believe, that any man in any era of civilization has ever been able to boast.

But when toward evening Duncan Moit came to us with Ilalah, I was astonished at his placid stoicism. Grieved he certainly was, but his face expressed resolve and thoughtfulness more than despair.

“I’m awfully sorry, old man,” I said, laying a sympathetic hand upon his shoulder. “I know how long and tedious the time will seem until you are able to construct another machine as perfect as the one you have lost.”

He shuddered a little at my words but replied gently:

“Sam, I shall never build another machine. That dream is over.”

“Over!” I cried, astonished. “What do you mean? Will you abandon all your ambitions—the certain fortune that awaits you—the applause and admiration of your fellow men?”

“What do they all amount to?” he asked. “Yes; I abandon them. I’m going to live with Ilalah.” “Here?”

“Here; in the half savage and almost unknown land of the Techlas. The result of years of labor has been wiped out of existence in a flash, and I have not the courage to begin all over again. I have no patterns of the machine and the drawings and specifications all were destroyed with it. I could never build another that would equal it in perfection. But why should I attempt it? I do not need an automobile here. I do not need fortune, or fame, or anything but love; and this Ilalah has given me freely.”

“Do I understand you to mean that you will always remain in this forsaken country?”

“That is my intention,” he said. “I shall help my wife to rule her people and in her companionship be happy in a simple, natural way.”

We argued with him long and earnestly, while Ilalah sat beside him silent and smiling but very sure that we could not prevail over his sudden but preposterous resolution.

They found a few scraps of what they believed to have once been Nalig-Nad, and that night the remains were consumed with fire, accompanied by many impressive ceremonies. Other funeral pyres burned also, both in the enclosure and on the plain beyond; for the most malignant of the green chiefs had followed the king to assist him in destroying the automobile and had therefore shared his fate.

Bright and early next morning Ned Britton appeared at the edge of the forest leading his band of seamen to our rescue. We advanced eagerly to meet him and told him the news of the king’s destruction and of our altered standing with the new ruler of the San Blas. Ned had heard and felt the explosion even on the wreck, but thought that it must have been an earthquake.

The newcomers were not regarded with much favor by the Indians, yet I thought that we all assisted greatly to lend dignity to the day’s ceremonies, which included the formal acknowledgment of Ilalah as ruler and lawgiver of the nation and her subsequent marriage—a most primitive rite—to the inventor, Duncan Moit. Ilalah’s husband was next adopted as a Techla, and then the excitement seemed to subside and the population settled down to business again.

However, there was no denying the fact that the natives resented our presence among them and were ill at ease while we remained in the village. So I told “King Duncan,” as Uncle Naboth insisted upon jocosely calling him, that we would make haste to return to our ship.

He offered no objection to our going, but stated simply that it would be our wisest course. Then he hesitated a moment, as if embarrassed, and added:

“You must never come back, you know. The Techlas will live their own lives in their own way, and hereafter I am to be one of them and shall forget everything that exists outside our borders. We permit you to go freely now, as a return for your kindness to our queen; but should you be daring enough to return at any time I warn you that you will be received as enemies, and opposed to the death.”

“Will you become another Nalig-Nad, then?” I asked, indignant at the traitorous words.

“In the future, as in the past, the demoralizing influences of the whites and their false civilization will be excluded from the dominions of the San Blas,” he answered, coolly. “My wife will rule as her fathers did, in spite of the fact that one white man has been admitted into the community. You have been my friends, but when you leave me now you must forget our friendship, as I am resolved to do. Should you invade the country of the Techlas again, you do so at your peril.”

This assertion, coming from one whom I had trusted and regarded as a faithful comrade, filled me with consternation not unmixed with resentment. But the man had always been peculiar and I tried to make allowances for his erratic nature.

“Tell me, then,” I said, after a moment’s thought; “how about dividing those diamonds?”

“They are yours. I have no use for such things now,” he added, a touch of sadness in his voice. “You are welcome to whatever share was due me—on one condition.”

“What is that, Duncan?”

“That you will tell no one where you found them and will promise never to return here for more.”

I hesitated, and Uncle Naboth looked sorely disappointed.

“It is my intention,” continued Moit, firmly, “to support the traditions of the Techlas. They must own nothing that will arouse the cupidity of the outside world, for only in this way will they be able to control their own territory. I am glad the audacious Tcharn is dead, and I will destroy all his pretty goldsmith work within the next few days. Also I shall have the valley of diamonds thoroughly searched and all the white pebbles cast into the sea. Therefore no temptation will exist for you or your fellows to come here again. Our laws will be rigidly maintained, and any strangers, white or black, who defy them will be severely punished.”

Yes, I had always suspected a streak of madness in Moit. Perhaps the destruction of his marvelous invention had served to unbalance a mind already insecurely seated. Anyway, I could see that he was in deadly earnest and that any argument would be useless. My companions, also, noted a strange glitter in his eyes that warned them he would not lift a finger to save their lives if they again ventured to invade the country ruled by Queen Ilalah.

So, with regret, we submitted to the inevitable. We bade Duncan Moit and his beautiful bride farewell and marched away through the forest till we came to the banks of the river, where the wreck lay in plain sight. A strong escort of silent natives watched us until we were all on board, and then they melted away and disappeared like ghosts.

I have never seen the inventor since, or stepped a foot upon the land of the Techlas.