Besides, we neither of us knew what the
effects of the fire might be. The result upon _She_ had not been of an
encouraging nature, and of the exact causes that produced that result we
were, of course, ignorant.
"Well, my boy," I said, "we cannot stop here till we go the way of those
two," and I pointed to the little heap under the white garment and to
the stiffing corpse of poor Job. "If we are going we had better go. But,
by the way, I expect that the lamps have burnt out," and I took one up
and looked at it, and sure enough it had.
"There is some more oil in the vase," said Leo indifferently--"if it is
not broken, at least."
I examined the vessel in question--it was intact. With a trembling
hand I filled the lamps--luckily there was still some of the linen wick
unburnt. Then I lit them with one of our wax matches. While I did so
we heard the pillar of fire approaching once more as it went on its
never-ending journey, if, indeed, it was the same pillar that passed and
repassed in a circle.
Pages:
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547