“I am not afraid.... Where is it?”
“I never heard of the place before. We’re to meet Selden at ‘Fool’s Acre.’”
“Where is it, Victor?”
“I don’t know. Selden says there are no roads,—not even a spotted trail. It’s a wilderness left practically blank by the Geological Survey. Only the contours are marked, and Selden tells me that the altitudes are erroneous and the unnamed lakes and water courses are all wrong. He says it is his absolute conviction that the Geological Survey never penetrated this wilderness at all, but merely skirted it and guessed at what lay inside, because the map he has from Washington is utterly misleading, and the entire region is left blank except for a few vague blue lines and spots indicating water, and a few heights marked ‘1800.’”
He turned and began to pace the sitting-room, frowning, perplexed, undecided.
“Selden tells me,” he said, “that the Yezidee, Arrak Sou-Sou, is in there and very busy doing something or other. He says that he can do nothing without you, and will explain why when we meet him.”
“Yes, Victor.”
Cleves turned on his heel and came over to where his wife stood beside the sunny window.
“I hate to ask you to go. I know that was the understanding. But this incessant danger—your constant peril——”
“That does not count when I think of my country’s peril,” she said in a quiet voice. “When are we to start? And what shall I pack in my trunk?”