the question was decided in a startling manner. first, there was the sound of crashing of boughs, as if wild beasts were forcing their way through the thicket; then a burst of yells, which certainly came from human throats. the karens started with alarm, put down the litters, and cried out, “shans,” which coldstream knew to be the name of a tribe living farther towards the north. the next minute the clearing in the wood was filled with a wild band of half-clothed siamese, shouting and flourishing rude weapons which flashed in the moonlight. coldstream had no time to make even an attempt at resistance. the shans knew that the englishman was the one of the party most likely to show fight, so they made a determined rush from all sides on the unarmed man. a heavy blow brought oscar to the earth, and as he struggled to regain his feet a dozen dark hands seized him, and with ropes wrenched from maha’s small litter coldstream was tightly bound to a tree with his arms fastened behind him. the whole affair passed so rapidly that the bewildered, terrified io had scarcely time to understand what had happened before she saw her husband a helpless prisoner, and herself in the hands of a wild, lawless band! io’s alarm was great, but even her terror was as nothing compared to the agony of mind endured by her husband, who forgot his own danger in witnessing hers. oscar could not even gasp forth a prayer; the fearful thought which had come to him before, that he was doomed to suffer through the wife whom he passionately loved, came on him again with agony so intense that a dagger plunged into his side would have inflicted less pain. could oscar’s thoughts have been clothed in words they would have been, “i refused to pluck out the right eye; and now both eyes will be torn from me, and nothing remain to a wretch but the blackness of darkness for ever.”

it was a terrible moment, but scarcely more than a moment, for suddenly, as if he had dropped from the skies, another form appeared on the scene. the shans who had seized the shrieking maha relaxed their grasp and fell back; they evidently recognized the new-comer, and re-echoed the exclamation which burst from the lips of every one of the karens, “ko thah byu!”

the karen evangelist strode fearlessly into the very midst of the throng, and sternly wrenched away a dark hand that was grasping the shoulder of io. the shans fell back as if awed by the presence of one whom they knew to be a messenger of god.

ko thah byu was not a man of majestic presence, nor did his appearance denote remarkable personal strength. he was past the meridian of life, and his dark hair and eyebrows were here and there streaked with white; but the eyes that flashed under those grizzled brows, and his firm, resolute mouth, marked the karen as one born to exercise sway over his fellow-men. it has been written of the karen apostle, when he had been seen preaching to a large congregation of burmese, that “their attention seemed to be riveted on his flashing eyes, less apparently from love than from an indescribable power that may best be compared to the fascinating influence of the serpent over an unconscious brood of chickens.”

like a master startling his slaves in the commission of an act of disobedience, ko thah byu’s silent look conveyed stern reproof to the robbers. one glance, one gesture of his hand, and a shan at once gave up to the karen a gleaming knife. ko thah byu walked up to the tree to which oscar was tied and cut his bonds. not a single word had been spoken by the singular karen, but when he opened his lips there came forth a burst of indignant eloquence, unintelligible to his english hearers, who knew not the dialect of the shans, but which had evidently a thrilling effect on the untutored listeners around. the shans shrank back, as if ashamed, while a murmur of assent and applause burst from the karens.

then the stern manner of ko thah byu changed, and with simple native courtesy he approached mr. coldstream, whom he addressed in the karen language.

“let not our white brother and sister fear aught,” he said; “no one will lay a finger upon them.”

at a gesture from ko thah byu the karens began trying to replace the ropes that had been wrenched from maha’s litter.

“no use—they have been cut. i will walk; my brothers are around me,” said maha.

only karens were left, for the shans were retiring into the jungle from which they had so unexpectedly emerged.

“will the sahib and mem return to mouang?” said ko thah byu. “it is not well to pass through the forest at night.”

oscar assented by a silent inclination of the head. at first he could not utter a word, the revulsion from utter despair was so great. io made up for her husband’s silence by giving fervent thanks to her deliverer in broken karen, as she resumed her seat on her litter.

“it was all god’s doing, mem sahib,” said ko thah byu in gentle tones, which curiously contrasted with his loud, impassioned address to the shans. “ko thah byu was on his way to mouang, hoping to reach it before night should make the forest path dark. ko thah byu sat by yon ruin, and read his book, and fell asleep, like the man in the pilgrim-story of whom the padri [clergyman] tells. ko thah byu rose, and forgot his book, and went on his way, and trod many steps towards mouang ere his loss was known. karen servant of christ had to go back; but he found the book, and now the reason why he lost it is clear as the moon in the sky. karen at mouang would not know of the white mem’s trouble; karen in the wood could give help. all was right—all is ever right that our father god does for his children.”

“all was indeed ordered in mercy,” observed io to her husband as he walked beside her litter, which was borne on again by the karens. “my oscar, at the worst, the very worst, i thought that the lord would come to our help. i prayed very hard in my terror, and i am sure that you prayed too.”

“no, i did not pray,” was the gloomy reply, which astonished and distressed the young wife.

“o oscar! i felt as if the lord’s loving hand were holding me up,” she exclaimed.

“you saw the hand stretched forth to save; i saw the hand upraised to strike.”

oscar had no sooner uttered the unguarded words than he wished them unsaid. the party were passing under the deep shadow of the dark trees; the torches were some way in front. oscar could not see on his wife’s face the effect of the sentence which had escaped from him in a moment of anguish; still less could he know its effect on her mind, for io uttered not another word until mouang was reached. the exclamation of oscar had been to her like a fearful revelation—a sudden gleam on a dark subject, but such a gleam as a flash of forked lightning might give.

“oscar not pray—at such a moment of peril not be able to pray!” so ran io’s troubled current of thought. “he—the noble, the good, the pious—he could only see our loving father’s hand upraised to strike! what fearful mystery lies beneath this? we have long seen my husband’s sadness, and made guesses—oh, what wrong guesses!—as to its cause. what could so shut out a christian from communion with god but sin? my beloved one’s life is as pure as mortal’s can be; there can be nothing in the present to weigh so heavily on his conscience as to crush out the spirit of prayer. can it be possible that there has been something in the past which to one so sensitive to the least touch of evil, one who so abhors the smallest error, may appear to be a very serious sin? oh that oscar would confide all to his wife, to one who would not love him less whatever he might have done!”

then io’s thoughts fell naturally into the channel of prayer. she had very often before pleaded for her husband—she had wrestled in intercession at the time of his illness, and again and again after her marriage—but never with more intense, agonized earnestness than she did now, with her litter for an oratory, and the black, sombre night as a curtain around her. her head bowed on her clasped hands, and the tears wetting her pale cheeks, io prayed in the gloomy forest. then suddenly the litter emerged into moonlight, and the calm holy brightness around seemed like an earnest of answer to prayer.

“we are going for the third time to mouang,” thought io as she leant back in her litter and closed her eyes, oscar thought in sleep. “it seems as if some invisible cord drew us to a spot of which yesterday we knew not even the name. may it be that some strange blessing awaits us there. may it be that the guiding hand which is leading us on in this land of strangers is taking us to a place where my oscar’s darkness will pass away, and where he will see and know that goodness and mercy have followed, and will follow him still, all the days of his life.”