Suddenly, a rending and rushing sound burst from the cave. Following it, Semitzin appeared at the entrance, dragging a heavy metal box, which she grasped by a handle at one end. Immediately in her steps broke forth a great volume of water, boiling up as if from a caldron. It filled the cave, and poured like a cataract into the gorge. The foundations of the great deep seemed to be let loose. Semitzin lifted from her face the woollen mask, or visor, which she had closed on entering the cave. She was panting from exertion, but neither her physical nor her mental faculties were abated. She spoke sharply and imperiously: “Bring up the mule, and help me fasten the chest upon him. We must reach higher ground before the waters overtake us. And now----” She turned to Freeman, who by this time was sitting up and regarding her with stupefaction. “Miriam!” was all he could utter. She shook her head, and smiled. “I am she who loves you, and whom you will love. I give you life, and fortune, and myself. But come: can you mount and ride?” “I can’t make this out,” he said, struggling, with her assistance, to his feet. “I have read fairy-tales, but this... Kamaiakan, too!” Semitzin, meanwhile, brought him to the mule, and half mechanically he scrambled into the saddle, the chest being made fast to the crupper. Semitzin seized the bridle, and started up the gorge, Kamaiakan bringing up the rear. The lower levels were already filling with water, which came pouring out through the archway in a full flood, seemingly inexhaustible. “I see how it is,” mumbled Freeman, half to himself. “The earthquake--I remember! I got hit somehow. They came from the ranch to hunt me up. But where are the general and Professor Meschines? How long ago was it? And how came Miriam... Could the mirage have had anything to do with it?--Here, let me walk,” he called out to her, “and you get up and ride.” She turned her head, smiling again, but hurried on without speaking. The roar of the torrent followed them. Once or twice the mule came near losing his footing. Freeman, whose head was swimming, and his brains buzzing like a hive of bees, had all he could do to maintain his equilibrium in the saddle. He was excruciatingly thirsty, and the gurgling of waters round about made him wish he might dismount and plunge into them. But he lacked power to form a decided purpose, and permitted the more energetic will to control him. It might have been minutes, or it might have been hours, for all he knew: at last they halted, near the base of the white pyramid. “Here we are safe,” said Semitzin, coming to his side. “Lean on me, my love, and I will lift you down.”