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Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"She"


It was early morning--that we could tell by the feel of the sweet air
and the look of the blessed sky, which we had never hoped to see again.
It was, so near as we knew, an hour after sunset when we entered the
tunnel, so it followed that it had taken us the entire night to crawl
through that dreadful place.
"One more effort, Leo," I gasped, "and we shall reach the slope where
Billali is, if he hasn't gone. Come, don't give way," for he had cast
himself upon his face. He rose, and, leaning on each other, we got down
that fifty feet or so of cliff--somehow, I have not the least notion
how. I only remember that we found ourselves lying in a heap at the
bottom, and then once more began to drag ourselves along on our hands
and knees towards the grove where _She_ had told Billali to wait her
re-arrival, for we could not walk another foot. We had not gone fifty
yards in this fashion when suddenly one of the mutes emerged from
the trees on our left, through which, I presume, he had been taking a
morning stroll, and came running up to see what sort of strange animals
we were.


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