reached the
reached the Caravanserai with the setting sun. Its lingering rays lit up the white stone walls of the oasis. The minarets gleamed for a moment; then, twilight overtook them as well. The gates of the Caravanserai swung wide; before long we had pulled up into the courtyard of the depot—and debarked. The last I saw of the Rebel and his companion was the wizard’s back and the dwarf’s little legs, twinkling under his great sack, as they vanished into the darkness.”
Barley ceased, and sat apart, silent and indistinct, with the poise of a mystic. For a time, no one moved, or spoke; then—
“We have lost the flow of ambition,” said the Director of Companies. “We are caught within the tides.” Another silence—then: “Curse the Rebel.”
I raised my head; the tranquil lagoon at the uttermost end of the earth lapped somber under an overcast night’s sky; the future was barred by a black bank of clouds.
Suddenly the native boy put his insolent head up through the hatch, and said in a tone of scathing contempt —“Missus Lang—she alive.” He held up a letter.
“What’s that?” demanded the Director, leaping to his feet. “Give me that, you savage!” He seized the envelope; tore it open. “A light! A light!” The accountant hastily lit a lamp; held it by the Director’s side—he began reading the letter.
“It’s from Mrs. Lang!” Never have I heard such joy in a human voice. “She’s alive. She—she’s coming back to me! She was in Ozar, found out where I am—she’s coming to see me!” He read on, as in a frenzy—suddenly, a great groan of anguish. “Oh God, no!” Never have I heard such despair in a human voice.
“What is it?” asked the lawyer. “She—she’s remarried,” whispered the Director. “She’s taken a new husband—how could she?—all these years I waited—the money I spent—” Then, a moment later, another great cry. “A mate! She’s taken a mate!—a great horrid savage from the Sssuj!” Never have I heard such outrage in a human voice. “And children! And grandchildren! She’s bringing the whole filthy brood here! Oh God!”
He tore the letter in half, clutching a piece in each hand; his eyes rolled wildly—his face gleamed in the lamplight, contorted like a demon. “No! No! I cannot!—instead—yes, I will!” Never have I heard such resolve in a human voice; he ate the letter; then—he was always a man of action—he flung himself headlong into the lagoon; the dark waters roiled for a moment beneath
Barley ceased, and sat apart, silent and indistinct, with the poise of a mystic. For a time, no one moved, or spoke; then—
“We have lost the flow of ambition,” said the Director of Companies. “We are caught within the tides.” Another silence—then: “Curse the Rebel.”
I raised my head; the tranquil lagoon at the uttermost end of the earth lapped somber under an overcast night’s sky; the future was barred by a black bank of clouds.
Suddenly the native boy put his insolent head up through the hatch, and said in a tone of scathing contempt —“Missus Lang—she alive.” He held up a letter.
“What’s that?” demanded the Director, leaping to his feet. “Give me that, you savage!” He seized the envelope; tore it open. “A light! A light!” The accountant hastily lit a lamp; held it by the Director’s side—he began reading the letter.
“It’s from Mrs. Lang!” Never have I heard such joy in a human voice. “She’s alive. She—she’s coming back to me! She was in Ozar, found out where I am—she’s coming to see me!” He read on, as in a frenzy—suddenly, a great groan of anguish. “Oh God, no!” Never have I heard such despair in a human voice.
“What is it?” asked the lawyer. “She—she’s remarried,” whispered the Director. “She’s taken a new husband—how could she?—all these years I waited—the money I spent—” Then, a moment later, another great cry. “A mate! She’s taken a mate!—a great horrid savage from the Sssuj!” Never have I heard such outrage in a human voice. “And children! And grandchildren! She’s bringing the whole filthy brood here! Oh God!”
He tore the letter in half, clutching a piece in each hand; his eyes rolled wildly—his face gleamed in the lamplight, contorted like a demon. “No! No! I cannot!—instead—yes, I will!” Never have I heard such resolve in a human voice; he ate the letter; then—he was always a man of action—he flung himself headlong into the lagoon; the dark waters roiled for a moment beneath