Catching sight of Godfrey, with a yell the brute tore away the napkin, revealing the severed head of Mr.Tafelett, whose surplice-draped body Godfrey now distinguished lying in the shadows on one side of the altar! "Here is the white medicine-man's magic wine," he screamed, pointing to the blood that ran down the broidered frontal.

"Come, drink! come, drink!" Godfrey ran forward up the church, his pistol in his hand.

When he reached the chancel he stopped and fired at the mouthing, bedizened devil who was dancing hideously in front of the altar.

The heavy service-revolver bullet struck him in some mortal place, for he leapt into the air, grabbed at the altar cloth and fell to the ground.

There he lay still, covered by the cloth, with the massive brass crucifix resting face downwards on his breast and the murdered man's head lying at his side--as though it were looking at him.
This was the last sight that Godfrey saw for many a day, for just then a spear pierced his breast, also something struck him on the temple.