“Oh—oh,” she moaned with a shudder, “but I’d rather not! Oh I hate them so; they are all so horrid; they frighten me terribly, and I know they will act exactly like the others—”
“No they won’t,” I interrupted, with a grin, “they’ll get off the earth, if I say the word, for they know that I am the King!”
CHAPTER XXXVII
THE GODDESS
The pull was a long one, even in the cool of the night. I knew my way, by the stars, if necessary, but the moonlight made my steering easy.
For half an hour the goddess was silent, sighing now and again, and crying a bit, as if deliverance had broken down some barrier to all her emotions, letting floods of pent up feelings free at once.
“It doesn’t seem possible,” she told me finally.
“What doesn’t?” said I, though I knew very well what she meant.
“This boat,” she answered, “and you—a man—in this terrible place. It doesn’t seem really true that I have escaped from those awful creatures; I didn’t believe I should ever get away. Oh, how did you do it?”
“Perhaps you’d better tell me first how you got there,” I made answer. “How long have you been in the place?”
“I—don’t know,” she faltered. “It must be months and months. I lost all account, but it seems like an age. I didn’t seem to care about the dates, there have been such lots of awful things to think of all the while. What month is it now?”