The young chief nodded assent, but said nothing. He was evidently disturbed.
“The sacrifice which the gods most prize,” answered the old man, “is also that which is most prized by men. The most perfect offering which we can present to them is the most perfect creature they themselves have made. Sheep and oxen may suffice for common needs; but at such a time as this, when Britain itself is at stake, we must appease the gods with the blood of MAN.”
Martianus grew pale. “It is not possible,” he stammered.
“Not only possible, but necessary,” calmly returned the priest. “Our fathers were commonly content to offer those who had offended against the laws; but in times of special necessity they chose the noblest victims. Even our kings have given up their sons and their daughters. So it must be now.”
All this was absolutely horrible to Martianus. He did not believe indeed in Christianity, but it had influenced him as it had influenced all the world. Whether he was at heart much the better may be doubted. But he was softer, more refined; he shrank from visible horrors, from open cruelty—though he could be cruelly selfish on occasion—and from bloodshed, though he would not stretch out a finger to save a neighbour’s life. And what the priest said was as new and unexpected to him as it was hideous. He had no idea that this savage faith had survived in Britain.
“Father,” he said, “such a thing would ruin us. Such a deed would raise the whole country against us. A human sacrifice! It is monstrous!”
“You are right so far,” returned the priest, “the country must not know it. Britain is utterly corrupted by this new faith, a superstition fit only for women, and children, and slaves; and I don’t doubt but that it would lift up its hands in horror at this holy solemnity. But there is no need that it should know it. It must be done secretly—so much I concede.”
“Well, the days are passed when a Druid could lay his command on Britain’s noblest, and be obeyed without a murmur. The victim must be taken by force, and secretly.”
“And have you any such victim in your thoughts?”
The priest hesitated for a moment; but it was only for a moment. He resumed in a low voice, which it evidently cost him an effort to keep steady—