The speaker had evidently but just entered, for he spoke in a loud tone, demanding the whereabouts of one whom he had come in search of.
“Where are you, woman?” he cried. “Hooja has sent for you.”
And then a woman’s voice answered him:
“And what does Hooja want of me?”
The voice was Dian’s. I groped in the direction of the sounds, feeling for the hole.
“He wishes you brought to the Island of Trees,” replied the man; “for he is ready to take you as his mate.”
“I will not go,” said Dian. “I will die first.”
“I am sent to bring you, and bring you I shall.”
I could hear him crossing the cave toward her.
Frantically I clawed the wall of the cave in which I was in an effort to find the elusive aperture that would lead me to Dian’s side.