“Alan,” said Desmond suddenly. “I wonder whether your theory is correct. We’ve got Abiram and Dathan right enough, but what about Korah? He was the chief offender and yet there is no trace of his name.”
“I expect his name has been lost during the transit of time,” said Alan. “At any rate I am tired now, and I shan’t bother any more about it for the present. Let’s go to sleep,” and the two boys went into their inner chamber and were soon fast asleep.
There was no night in this terrible underworld; the purple lights never went out; morning and evening were unknown. The place was never plunged into entire darkness—true, the inhabitants went to sleep, but they pleased themselves as to when they slept and for how long. The whole world was never at rest at the same time—truly, indeed, it was an unholy place of unrest!
The two men were fast asleep, the purple light shining across their, faces, and Alan moved restlessly, for his dreams were troubled ones.
Suddenly the door opened gently and a figure appeared—it was Kaweeka. Softly she crept across their room, and halted by the side of their couches. A fierce light came into her eyes as she watched the rhythmic rise and fall of Alan’s chest as he breathed heavily. She bent over him, kissed his lips, and murmured savagely as she did so—
“So desired—so desirable—yet I so undesired!”
CHAPTER III
RELATING TO HISTORY
“How long have we been down here, Lanny?”
“Together do you mean?”
“Yes.”