Before him, some miles away, he saw a forest of towering
trees that stretched further than his eye could reach.
As he approached that forest heading for a certain
tall tree, why he knew not, the sunset dyed it red
as though it had been on fire, and he thought that
he discerned little shapes flitting to and fro amidst
the boles of trees. Then he entered the forest,
whereof the boughs arched above him like the endless
roof of a cathedral borne upon innumerable pillars.
There was deep gloom that grew presently to darkness
wherein here and there glow-worms shone faintly like
tapers dying before an altar, and winds sighed like
echoes of evening prayers. He could see to walk
no longer, sudden weariness overcame him, so according
to his custom he laid himself down to sleep at the
bole of a great tree.
A while had passed, he never knew how long, when Richard
was awakened from deep slumber by feeling many hands
fiercely at work upon him. These hands were small
like those of children; this he could tell from the
touch of them, although the darkness was so dense
that he was able to see nothing. Two of them
gripped him by the throat so as to prevent him from
crying out; others passed cords about his wrists,
ankles and middle until he could not stir a single
limb. Then he was dragged back a few paces and
lashed to the bole of a tree, as he guessed, that under
which he had been sleeping. The hands let go
of him, and his throat being free he called out for
help. But those vast forest aisles seemed to swallow
up his voice. It fell back on him from the canopy
of huge boughs above, it was lost in the immense silence.
Only from close at hand he heard little peals of thin
and mocking laughter. So he too grew silent,
for who was there to help him here? He struggled
to loose himself, for the impalpable power which had
guided him so far was now at work within him more strongly
than ever before. It called to him to come, it
drew him onward, it whispered to him that the goal
was near. But the more he writhed and twisted
the deeper did the cruel cords or creepers cut into
his flesh. Yet he fought on till, utterly exhausted,
his head fell forward, and he swooned away.
CHAPTER XXIV
THE END AND THE BEGINNING
On the day following that when she had summoned Eddo
to speak with her, Nya sat at the mouth of the cave.
It was late afternoon, and already the shadows gathered
so quickly that save for her white hair, her little
childlike shape, withered now almost to a skeleton,
was scarcely visible against the black rock.
Walking to and fro in her aimless fashion, as she
would do for hours at a time, Rachel accompanied by
Noie passed and repassed her, till at length the old
woman lifted her head and listened to something which
was quite inaudible to their ears. Then she beckoned
to Noie, who led Rachel to her.
“Maiden beloved,” she said in a feeble
voice, after they had sat down in front of her, “my
hour has come, I have sent for thee to bid thee farewell
till we meet again in a country where thou hast travelled
for a little while. Before the sun sets I pass
within the Fence.”
