“I am glad,” she said, “that he dreamed no other dreams, since had he done so and babbled of them it would have been ill-omened, and I do not wish that one who has travelled far to visit us should be hurled to the death-dogs for burial; one, moreover, who although old and hideous, still has the air of a wise and silent man.”

Now while I shivered at these unpleasant hints—­though what the “death-dogs” in which people were buried might be, I could not conceive—­to my intense joy I heard the foot of the Guardian on the stairs, heard him too enter the room and saw him bow before the lady.

“How go these sick men, niece?"[*] he said in his cold voice.

     [*] I found later that the Khania, Atene, was not Simbri’s
     niece but his great-niece, on the mother’s side.—­L.  H. H.

“They swoon, both of them,” she answered.

“Indeed, is it so?  I thought otherwise.  I thought they woke.”

“What have you heard, Shaman (i.e. wizard)?” she asked angrily.

“I?  Oh!  I heard the grating of a dagger in its sheath and the distant baying of the death-hounds.”

“And what have you seen, Shaman?” she asked again, “looking through the Gate you guard?”

“Strange sight, Khania, my niece.  But—­men awake from swoons.”

“Aye,” she answered, “so while this one sleeps, bear him to another chamber, for he needs change, and the lord yonder needs more space and untainted air.”

The Guardian, whom she called “Shaman” or Magician, held a lamp in his hand, and by its light it was easy to see his face, which I watched out of the corner of my eye.  I thought that it wore a very strange expression, one moreover that alarmed me somewhat.  From the beginning I had misdoubted me of this old man, whose cast of countenance was vindictive as it was able; now I was afraid of him.

“To which chamber, Khania?” he said with meaning.

“I think,” she answered slowly, “to one that is healthful, where he will recover.  The man has wisdom,” she added as though in explanation, “moreover, having the word from the Mountain, to harm him would be dangerous.  But why do you ask?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“I tell you I heard the death-hounds bay, that is all.  Yes, with you I think that he has wisdom, and the bee which seeks honey should suck the flower—­before it fades!  Also, as you say, there are commands with which it is ill to trifle, even if we cannot guess their meaning.”

Then going to the door he blew upon his whistle, and instantly I heard the feet of his servants upon the stairs.  He gave them an order, and gently enough they lifted the mattress on which I lay and followed him down sundry passages and past some stairs into another chamber shaped like that we had left, but not so large, where they placed me upon a bed.

The Guardian watched me awhile to see that I did not wake.  Next he stretched out his hand and felt my heart and pulse; an examination the results of which seemed to puzzle him, for he uttered a little exclamation and shook his head.  After this he left the room, and I heard him bolt the door behind him.  Then, being still very weak, I fell asleep in earnest.