"I know that something terrible is going to happen," she gasped. "I don't like this place in the heart of a mountain among all these dead old things. I like the blue of the sky and the balm of the sunshine, and the wide-spreading sea. Something terrible is going to happen. I know that something terrible is going to happen."
While Francis reassured her, the last seconds of the last minute for the peon were ticking off. And when, summoning all his courage, he thrust his hand into the mouth of the goddess, the last second ticked and the clock struck. With a scream of terror he pulled back his hand and gazed at the wrist where a tiny drop of blood exuded directly above an artery. The mottled head of a snake thrust forth like a mocking, derisive tongue and drew back and disappeared in the dark
