e glowing boxes in the
coffin. They were loose, being merely set in prepared cavities in the
crystal. Wrapping our handkerchiefs about his hand, he took them out
and placed them around the wakened patients, a proceeding of which the
Ancient nodded approval. Just then, too, Bastin returned with his first
load of firewood, and soon we had a merry blaze going just outside the
sepulchre. I saw that they observed the lighting of this fire by means
of a match with much interest.
Now they grew warm again, as indeed we did also--too warm. Then in my
turn I had an idea. I knew that by now the sun would be beating hotly
against the rock of the mount, and suggested to Bickley, that, if
possible, the best thing we could do would be to get them into its
life-giving rays. He agreed, if we could make them understand and they
were able to walk. So I tried. First I directed the Ancient's attention
to the mouth of the cave which at this distance showed as a white circle
of light. He looked at it and then at me with grave inquiry. I made
motions to suggest that he should proceed there, repeating the word
"Sun" in the Orofenan tongue. He understood at once, though whether
he read my mind rather than what I said I am not sure. Apparently the
Glittering Lady understood also and seemed to be most anxious to go.
Only she looked rather pitifully at her feet and shook her head. This
decided me.
I do not know if I have mentioned anywhere that I am a tall man and very
muscular. She was tall, also, but as I judged not so very heavy after
her long fast. At any rate I felt quite certain that I could carry her
for that distance. Stooping down, I lifted her up, signing to her to
put her arms round my neck, which she did. Then calling to Bickley and
Bastin to bring along the Ancient between them, with some difficulty I
struggled out of the sepulchre, and started down the cave. She was more
heavy than I thought, and yet I could have wished the journey longer. To
begin with she seemed quite trustful and happy in my arms, where she lay
with her head against my shoulder, smiling a little as a child might do,
especially when I had to stop and throw her long hair round my neck like
a muffler, to prevent it from trailing in the dust.
A bundle of lavender, or a truss of new-mown hay, could not have been
more sweet to carry and there was something electric about the touch of
her, which went through and through me. Very soon it was over, and we
were out of
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