Somat interpreted this to the others. Some laughed; others looked pityingly at her. Somat explained:
"It is nothing, stranger. Be not afraid. We forgot that ye might know nothing of this 'magic.'" He considered deeply, apparently trying to put himself in her place. "Know ye not fire?" Of course, she did not know what he meant. "Then," with an inspiration, "perchance ye have see the flower, the red flower, ye might call—"
"Aye!" eagerly. "Doth it grow here?"
Somat smiled with satisfaction, and beckoned for her to follow him. He led the way through a small door into another room, evidently used as a kitchen. There he pointed to a large range, remarkably like the up-to- date article known on the earth.
"The flower 'groweth' here," said he, and lifted a lid from the stove.
Up shot the flame.
"Great Mownoth!" shouted Rolla, forgetting all about her hunger. "I have found it—the precious flower itself!"
Somat humored her childlike view-point. "We have the seed of the flower, too," said he. He secured a box of matches from a shelf, and showed her the "little sticks."
"Exactly what the angel showed me!" jubilated Holla. "I have come to the right place!"
Back she went to her food, her face radiant, and all her lurking suspicion of the twelve completely gone. From that time on she had absolute and unquestioning confidence in all that was told her. In her eyes, the twelve were simply angels or gods who had seen fit to clothe themselves queerly and act human.
Supper over, she felt immensely tired. All the strain of the past three weeks had to have its reaction. Like a very tired, sleepy child, she was led to a room in another part of the building, where she was shown an ordinary sleeping-cot. She promptly pulled the mattress onto the floor, where she considered it belonged, and fell fast asleep.