The ninth vibration and other stories by L. Adams (Lily Moresby Adams) Beck
page 11 of 266 (04%)
page 11 of 266 (04%)
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We cast back and could see no trail forking from the one we were on. There was nothing for it but to trust to luck and push on. But I began to be uneasy and so was the man. I had stupidly forgotten to unpack my revolver, and worse, we had no food, and the mountain air is an appetiser, and at night the woods have their dangers, apart from being absolutely trackless. We had not met a living being since we left the road and there seemed no likelihood of asking for directions. I stopped no longer for views but went steadily on, Ali Khan keeping up a running fire of low-voiced invocations and lamentations. And now it was dusk and the position decidely unpleasant. It was at that moment I saw a woman before us walking lightly and steadily under the pines. She must have struck into the trail from the side for she never could have kept before us all the way. A native woman, but wearing the all-concealing boorka, more like a town dweller than a woman of the hills. I put on speed and Ali Khan, now very tired, toiled on behind me as I came up with her and courteously asked the way. Her face was entirely hidden, but the answering voice was clear and sweet. I made up my mind she was young, for it had the bird-like thrill of youth. "If the Presence continues to follow this path he will arrive. It is not far. They wait for him." That was all. It left me with a desire to see the veiled face. We passed on and Ali Khan looked fearfully back. "Ajaib! (Wonderful!) A strange place to meet one of the |
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