The lady had whirled them so rapidly through this period of change in their fortunes that they had been able to ask no questions, and though she had talked almost incessantly, the monologue had conveyed little meaning. They found themselves continually bewildered by references, simple in themselves, and yet cryptic for lack of a key to them.
The conclusion of their late dinner, served in their own rooms, at least found them more comfortable than at any time since that fatal hour when the Cerberus was uncapped. If they were still under police surveillance, there was no evidence to show it. By common consent, however, they had abjured for the present any idea of escape. Precarious though their position might be, such an attempt in their state of ignorance was predoomed to failure.
The meal finished, and the servant having departed for the last time, Drayton asked a question which had been in the back of his head for two hours past.
"Miss Viola, what were you saying about Ulithia when Mercy interrupted? Before the pit was opened, I mean, while we stood beneath the Red Bell?"
"I remember. It was merely a notion of mine, Mr. Drayton."
"But tell it," urged her brother.
"When we meddled with that strange dust," the girl said softly, "I think we intruded upon that which was never meant for mortals. The White Weaver said it-she said we had no place in Ulithia. And she told us to go forward, go deeper, and that the door was open before us."
"Yes, she did," sighed Drayton.
"And so," continued the girl, "we escaped from Ulithia, but went forward. Just how far is what we have yet to discover."
"You mean," said the ex-lawyer slowly, "that some six hours ago by my watch-which has not been wound by the way, yet is still running-we practically stepped out of space and time as we know them into a realm where those words have no meaning? And that when we passed through the moon gate, we returned into space at almost the place from which we started, but into time at a point perhaps many years later?"