The meal over, they re-entered the little carriage, and prepared to start for the wonderful cave. Standing under the stone portico, the Princess wished them farewell.
“I shall think of you to-night,” she said, with a smile of encouragement. “I hope the cure will work.”
“If God will,” was the nurse’s rejoinder. “I thank your Highness for the great help you have given me.”
But the Princess would not receive her gratitude.
“I will send the carriage for you at dawn,” she called out, as the coachman took up the reins; and then again wishing luck to the venture, she disappeared from view.
The cave, which was formed out of the limestone of which the mountain was composed, was reached shortly after leaving the hotel. A chapel had been built there to commemorate the place, but it had been done away with when the Jews came into possession, and now there existed nothing to distinguish it from other caves. Coming into it from the open air, it seemed to exhale an atmosphere of warm humidity, and the walls, when Anne felt them, were quite damp. Mustaph had brought with him a lamp, some warm blankets, and a small folding-chair, but in spite of these commodities, the place scarcely promised to be a comfortable one in which to spend the night. The shadows gathered as they made their preparations, and the nurse shivered, though scarcely with cold. Even Tom, who scarcely ever displayed an emotion of any kind, seemed frightened, and at first refused to lie down in the strange floor-bed allotted to him. At sunset Mustaph took off his shoes, spread his mat, and said his prayers in approved Mohammedan fashion, after which he took up his position on guard at the mouth of the cave. The lighted lamp brought with it a homely ray of comfort, but it was too small to adequately illumine the cavern, and the corners were dark and black. Amidst such eerie surroundings, Anne would not have been surprised at any apparition or supernatural manifestation, and as the time wore on, she worked herself up to an intense pitch of excitement. Tom lay awake for several hours with wide-open, frightened eyes, his hands clutching tightly at the counterpane, whilst in his own way he expressed his disapproval and fear. At last, however, his hands unclosed and his features relaxed, and closing his eyes wearily, he dropped off to sleep.
Anne heaved a trembling sigh as she sank on to her knees at his side. Who could tell what would have happened by the time he awoke again? Crossing her hands on her breast to still the rapid beating of her heart, she sent up a passionate entreaty to Heaven to grant her prayers for the boy. What would she not do to show her gratitude if only he were cured of his disease! How devoted her life would be to the Most High henceforth! She was not the first soul who has presumed to bribe the Almighty when in distress: it is a common human instinct to think that we can gain a divine benefaction by promising to do something great and magnanimous in return.
The silence was intense, but suddenly it was broken by a weird and melancholy sound. The nurse started in affright, wondering from whence it came, and listened with distended eyes. Moving towards the entrance, she called to Mustaph, who was endeavouring to rouse himself from sleep, whilst the sound continued, just like a cry of woe.
“A jackal,” the Arab replied imperturbably. “Malaish—never mind. I tell him imshi—be off! La! no. He not come here. Ma’am not be afraid. He only howl.”
Anne was thankful to hear the sound of a human voice.