Dropping his eyes and with trembling lips, feeling a little ashamed
at being conquered at last, he whispered "Mother."

She raised him in her arms and pressed him to her bosom, wrapping
her hair like a warm mantle round him; and in less than one minute,
overcome by fatigue, he fell fast asleep in her arms.




CHAPTER XII


THE LITTLE PEOPLE UNDERGROUND

When he awoke Martin found himself lying on a soft downy bed in a
dim stone chamber, and feeling silky hair over his cheek and neck
and arms, he knew that he was still with his new strange mother, the
beautiful Lady of the Mountain. She, seeing him awake, took him up
in her arms, and holding him against her bosom, carried him through
a long winding stone passage, and out into the bright morning
sunlight. There by a small spring of clearest water that gushed from
the rock she washed his scratched and bruised skin, and rubbed it
with sweet-smelling unguents, and gave him food and drink. The great
spotted beast sat by them all the time, purring like a cat, and at
intervals he tried to entice Martin to leave the woman's lap and
play with him. But she would not let him out of her arms: all day
she nursed and fondled him as if he had been a helpless babe instead
of the sturdy little run-away and adventurer he had proved himself