hope and simple
tender nothings, such as any woman might croon over her sick boy.

"Come, boy, come then, come, boy, come," he whispered, and clapped
his moist hands together over the placid face to call it back to
itself.

And while he did so, sure enough Sunlocks moved, his lips parted,
his cheeks quivered, and he sighed. And seeing these signs of
consciousness, Jason began to cry, for the great rude fellow who had
not flinched before death was touched at the sight of life in that
deep place where the strongest man is as a child.

But just then he heard once more the sound of horses' hoofs on the
lava ground, and, looking up, he saw that there could be no error
this time, and that the guards were surely coming. Ten or twelve of
them there seemed to be, mounted on as many ponies, and they were
driving on at a furious gallop over the stones. There was a dog
racing in front of them, another dog was running at their heels, and
with the barking of the dogs, the loud whoops of the men to urge the
ponies along, and to the clatter of the ponies' hoofs, the plain rang
and echoed.

Jason saw that the guards were coming on in their direction. In three
minutes more they would be upon them. They were taking the line
followed by the Thing-men. Would they pass them by unseen as the
Thing-men had passed them? That was not to be expected, for they were
there to look for them. What was to be done? Jason looked behind him.
Nothing was there but an implacable wall of stone, rising sheer up
into the sky, with never a bough, or tussock of grass to cling to
that a man might climb. He looked around. The ground was covered with
cracked domes like the arches of buried cities, but the caverns that
lay beneath them were guarded by spiked jaws which only a man's foot
could slip through. Not a gap, not a hole to creep into; not a stone
to crouch under; not a bush to hide behind; nothing in sight on any
side but the bare, hard face of the wide sea of stone.

There was not a moment to lose. Jason lifted Sunlocks to his shoulder
and crept along, bent nearly double, as silently and swiftly as he
could go. And still behind him was the whoop of the men, the barking
of the dogs and the clatter of hoofs.

On and on he went, minute after precious minute. The ground became
heavier at every stride with huge stones that tore his stockinged
legs and mangled his feet in his thin skin shoes. But he recked
nothing of this, or rejoiced in it, for the way