'If I must tell the pure truth,' said the wizard, looking up at the arches of his windows, 'I can tell of only one to whom I ever have done good.'
'One will do; one is quite enough; be quick before the ground opens. The name of one—and this cross will save you. Lay your thumb on the end of it.'
'Nay, that I cannot do, great saint. The devil have mercy upon me.'
All this while the palace was sinking, and blackness coming over them.
'Thou hast all but done for thyself,' said the saint, with a glory burning round his head; 'by that last invocation. Yet give us the name of the one, my friend, if one there be; it will save thee, with the cross upon thy breast. All is crashing round us; dear brother, who is that one?'
'My own self,' cried the wretched wizard.
'Then there is no help for thee.' And with that the honest saint went upward, and the wizard, and all his palace, and even the crag that bore it, sank to the bowels of the earth; and over them was nothing left except a black bog fringed with reed, of the tint of the wizard's whiskers. The saint, however, was all right, after sleeping off the excitement; and he founded a chapel, some three miles westward; and there he lies with his holy relic and thither in after ages came (as we all come home at last) both my Lorna's Aunt Sabina, and her guardian Ensor Doone.
While yet I dwelled upon this strange story, wondering if it all were true, and why such things do not happen now, a man on horseback appeared as suddenly as if he had risen out of the earth, on the other side of the great black slough. At first I was a little scared, my mind being in the tune for wonders; but presently the white hair, whiter from the blackness of the bog between us, showed me that it was Uncle Reuben come to look for me, that way. Then I left my chair of rock, and waved my hat and shouted to him, and the sound of my voice among the crags and lonely corners frightened me.
Old Master Huckaback made no answer, but (so far as I could guess) beckoned me to come to him. There was just room between the fringe of reed and the belt of rock around it, for a man going very carefully to escape that horrible pit-hole. And so I went round to the other side, and there found open space enough, with stunted bushes, and starveling trees, and straggling tufts of rushes.
'You fool, you are frightened,' said Uncle Ben, as he looked at my face after shaking hands: 'I want a young man of steadfast courage, as well as of strength and silence. And after what I heard of the battle at Glen Doone, I thought I might trust you for courage.'