Thus we parted, but ah! little did we guess how and where the three of us would meet again.
We were weary and soon fell fast asleep beside our camp-fire, for, knowing that the whole army guarded us, we had no fear. I remember watching the bright stars which shone in the immense vault above me until they paled in the pure light of the risen moon, now somewhat past her full, and hearing Leo mutter drowsily from beneath his fur rug that Ayesha was quite right, and that it was pleasant to be in the open air again, as he was tired of caves.
After that I knew no more until I was awakened by the challenge of a sentry in the distance; then after a pause, a second challenge from the officer of our own guard. Another pause, and a priest stood bowing before us, the flickering light from the fire playing upon his shaven head and face, which I seemed to recognize.
“I”—and he gave a name that was familiar to me, but which I forget—“am sent, my lords, by Oros, who commands me to say that the Hesea would speak with you both and at once.”
Now Leo sat up yawning and asked what was the matter. I told him, whereon he said he wished that Ayesha could have waited till daylight, then added—“Well, there is no help for it. Come on, Horace,” and he rose to follow the messenger.
The priest bowed again and said—“The commands of the Hesea are that my lords should bring their weapons and their guard.”
“What,” grumbled Leo, “to protect us for a walk of a hundred yards through the heart of an army?”
“The Hesea,” explained the man, “has left her tent; she is in the gorge yonder, studying the line of advance.”
“How do you know that?” I asked.
“I do not know it,” he replied. “Oros told me so, that is all, and therefore the Hesea bade my lords bring their guard, for she is alone.”