Amer had taken off his helmet and shield, so that the darts, which we small, found easy access, and pierced him though he was scarcely conscious of them; every now and then one sharper than the others would make him start and tremble, but so enamoured was he with his surroundings that instead of rousing himself to don his armour afresh, he would turn the more readily to Self to devise some means by which to make him forget the pain they caused. He was rudely awakened by a rasping voice that he recognised at once as that belonging to Chisleu. "What now! What now!" he exclaimed, "resting among the roses? Why, friend, you scarcely look like a pilgrim to the Radiant City. Get up with you lad, this is not your home." "It is no business of yours what I do," said Amer at the suggestion of Temper, who had been watching the lad from a distance, and had been biding his time, and now exulted in his opportunity of worrying his former companion; "if I care to rest on my journey in the land of Achshaph, what is that to you?" "What is it to me, Sir?" repeated Chisleu, "why it is a great deal to me. We are brothers, and I can't see my brother a prey to the enemy without doing my best to help him. You are young, and do not know the dangers of the land through which we are passing." "I am well pleased with it for a time," said Amer, "and I beg you will leave me alone." "That I certainly will not do," said Chisleu with some heat, "leave a brother in the hands of the enemy! That is not my way." "What's wrong with the land?" "What's wrong? Why, it is a death trap. I was warned before I entered it of its dangers. Pray, my lad, have you eaten any of its fruits?" "Yes," said Amer, "and though it was delicious at the time, it leaves an uncomfortable taste in the mouth." "Ah! just so, just so," said Chisleu, and all the time he was speaking he was perpetually looking down at his feet to make sure that his shoes were still there. "I can do no good without my shoes," he murmured. "But," said Amer, "I cannot think what my affairs have to do with you. And, besides, we are not all made alike, what might do you harm need not necessarily hurt me. Every man must judge for himself." "Every man must go by the Guide Book," answered Chisleu hastily, "we are there told that we are not to lean to our own understanding. And also, young man," he added, "we are told 'Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall.' You are on dangerous ground my friend." Amer looked up at the man who was giving him such good advice. His face was red and agitated, but the lad could not but be conscious that a real concern for his welfare was the cause of his excitement. However, Amer was in no mood to listen to him, and the man's excitability and somewhat dictatorial manner irritated him; had Chisleu been calmer and less emotional he would have had far greater influence over the one he longed to help.