A minute or two later they stood in the room where the girl lay. The coverlet was thrown back somewhat revealing the bare left arm and shoulder, and the delicately beautiful face upon the pillow. Her golden hair was spread out in riotous profusion. The other hand was just protruding from the coverlet, and displayed a faint red mark, showing where Hobart's bracelet had been fastened at the moment he disappeared.
Charlotte stepped over and laid her hand against the girl's cheek. “Isn't she wonderful!” she murmured.
But Dr. Higgins looked to Watson.
“Do you know her?”
The other nodded. He stooped over and listened to her breathing. His manner was that of reverence and admiration. He touched her hand.
“I see how it must have happened. Precisely what I experienced, only—” Then: “You call her Ariadne?”
“We had to call her something,” replied Charlotte. “And the name—it just came, I suppose.”
“Perhaps. Anyhow, it was a remarkably good guess. Her true name is the Aradna.”
“THE Aradna? Who—what is she?”
“Just that: the Aradna. She is one of the factors that may save us. And on earth we would call her queen.” Then, without waiting for the inevitable question, Watson said: