At midday we ate, or, so far as I was concerned, pretended to eat, for anxiety took away my appetite. A little while afterwards, to my intense relief, the captain of our prison-warders, for that is what they were, appeared and said that he was commanded to conduct us to the canoe which was to paddle us to inspect what remained of the island, I replied that we would graciously consent to go. So taking all our small possessions with us, including a bundle containing our spare clothes and the twigs from the Tree of Illusions, we departed and were escorted to the quay by our guards, of whose faces I was heartily tired. Here we found a small canoe awaiting us, manned by four secret-faced men, strong fellows all of them, who raised their paddles in salute. Apparently the place had been cleared of loiterers, since there was only one other person present, a woman wrapped in a long cloak that hid her face. As we were about to enter the canoe this woman approached us and lifted her hood. She was Dramana. “Lord,” she said, “I have been sent by my sister, the new Walloo, to tell you that you will find the iron tubes which spit out fire and all that belongs to them under a mat in the prow of the canoe. Also she bids me wish you a prosperous journey to the island that aforetime was named Holy, which island she wishes never to see again.” I thanked her and bade her convey my greeting to the Walloo, my bride to be, adding in a loud voice, that I hoped ere long to be able to do this in person when her “veil fell down.” Then I turned to enter the canoe. “Lord,” said Dramana with a convulsive movement of her hands, “I make a prayer to you. It is that you will take me with you to look my last upon that isle where I dwelt so long a slave, which I desire to see once more—now that I am free.” Instinctively I felt that a crisis had arisen which demanded firm and even brutal treatment. “Nay, Dramana,” I answered, “it is always unlucky for an escaped slave to revisit his prison, lest once more its bars should close about that slave.” “Lord,” she said, “the loosed prisoner is sometimes dazed by freedom, so that the heart cries again for its captivity. Lord, I am a good slave and a loving. Will you not take me with you?” “Nay, Dramana,” I answered as I sprang into the canoe. “This boat is fully loaded. It would not be for your welfare or for mine. Farewell!”