Ansell stood up. “I don’t know. It’s no use talking now. We’ve got to get her back to the inn.”
I picked her up again. “Do you think she’ll stand the journey?”
“Don’t worry, man. I tell you there’s nothing the matter with her. She’s in a hypnotic trance. She’ll wake up in a few hours.”
I looked at him searchingly, saw the worried look in his eyes and I felt a chill of despair. “I hope you’re right,” I said and gave her to him to hold while I mounted.
The journey across the plateau was hard going. The beat cut into us and I found Myra’s weight exhausting, but we made it at last.
Myra was still unconscious when we reached the inn.
Bogle said uneasily: “I don’t like seeing her like that even though she’s a sour puss. It don’t seem natural.”
While he was helping me dismount, Ansell went on in and called the innkeeper. He came out in a few minutes. “They’re getting a room ready for her,” he said. “Bring her up. I’ll show you where it is.”
The innkeeper’s wife was waiting in a small, quiet room which was cool and shady and flowers stood on a table by the window.
I put Myra gently on the bed. “Look after her,” I said to the woman. “Get her to bed.”