“Why, it's dawn,” he whispered. “Goodwin, you ought not to have let me sleep so long. I feel like a damned pig.”
“Never mind,” I said. “But watch the eunuch closely.”
I rolled myself up in his warm blanket; sank almost instantly into dreamless slumber.
CHAPTER XVIII. INTO THE PIT
High was the sun when I awakened; or so, I supposed, opening my eyes upon a flood of daylight. As I lay, lazily, recollection rushed upon me.
It was no sky into which I was gazing; it was the dome of Norhala's elfin home. And Drake had not aroused me. Why? And how long had I slept?
I jumped to my feet, stared about. Ruth nor Drake nor the black eunuch was there!
“Ruth!” I shouted. “Drake!”
There was no answer. I ran to the doorway. Peering up into the white vault of the heavens I set the time of day as close to seven; I had slept then three hours, more or less. Yet short as that time of slumber had been, I felt marvelously refreshed, reenergized; the effect, I was certain, of the extraordinarily tonic qualities of the atmosphere of this place. But where were the others? Where Yuruk?