Rolfe had been convulsed with laughter throughout Earth's narrative, and now sunk down overpowered at the finale.
“Earth,” said he, “you are mistaken; what you saw was merely the gum which had exuded from the stump.”
“Gum!”—said Earth, with a contemptuous sneer, “you must think I am a damn——” then stopping, and looking in another direction, “look there, Rolfe,—look, look.”
He obeyed, and beheld a torch, borne by a human being.
“Can'st thou move?” said Earth.
“I can,” said Rolfe.
“Then nerve yourself for a contest, if necessary, and let us see who venture here at this hour of the night. Who knows but this may furnish some clue to the lost maiden.”
The above sentence infused strength into Rolfe; for it brought hope, and excitement, and but little time elapsed before he announced to his friend, that he was ready; and, moving forward, they began at once to reconnoitre the ground.
“There may be danger here,” said Rolfe, “we must be cautious, or we shall be offered as a sacrifice to the spirits of those who have been lately murdered.”
Then crouching down, they remained for some time silent, gazing at the light.