“Perchance thou wilt seek another helper, Maiden, and perchance thou shall find another to guard and comfort thee. Follow thy heart, obey thy heart, and remember the last words of Nya—that no harm shall come to thee. Nay—if I know it, I may tell thee no more, thou who couldst not hear what the drums said to me but now. Farewell,” and turning round she made a sign to certain dwarf-mutes who were gathered behind her as though they awaited her commands. “Hast thou no last word for me, Mother?” asked Noie. “Aye, Child,” she answered. “Thy heart is very bold, and thou also must follow it. Though thy sin should be great, perchance thy greater love may pay its price. At least thou art but an arrow set upon the string, and that which must be, will be. I think that we shall meet again ere long. Come hither and kneel at my side.” Noie obeyed, and for a little space Nya whispered in her ear, while as she listened Rachel saw strange lights shining in Noie’s eyes, lights of terror and of pride, lights of hope and of despair. “What did she say to you, Noie?” asked Rachel presently. “I may not tell, Zoola,” she answered. “Question me no more.” Now the mutes brought forward a slight litter woven of boughs on which the withered leaves still hung, boughs from Nya’s fallen tree. In this litter they placed her, for she could no longer walk, and lifted it on to their shoulders. For one moment she bade them halt, and calling Rachel and Noie to her, kissed them upon the brow, holding up her thin child-like hands over them in blessing. Then followed by them both, the bearers went forward with their burden, taking the road that ran up the hill towards the sacred tree. As the sun set they passed within the Fence, and laying down the litter without a word by the bole of the tree, turned and departed. The darkness fell, and through it Rachel and Noie heard Nya singing for a little while. The song ceased, and they descended the hill to the cave, for there they feared to stay lest the Tree should draw them also. They ate a little food whilst the two women mutes who had sat on each side of Nya when she showed her magic, stared, now at them, and now into the bowls of dew that were set before them, wherein they seemed to find something that interested them much. Noie prayed Rachel to sleep, and she tried to do so, and could not. For hour after hour she tossed and turned, and at length sat up, saying to Noie: “I have fought against it, and I can stay here no longer. Noie, I am being drawn from this place out into the forest, and I must go.” “What draws thee, Sister?” asked Noie. “Is it Eddo?” “No, I think not, nothing to do with Eddo. Oh! Noie, Noie, it is the spirit of Richard Darrien. He is dead, but for days and weeks his spirit has been with my spirit, and now it draws me into the forest to die and find him.” “Then that is an evil journey thou wouldst take, Zoola?”