“A little devil.”
He laughed. “You aren’t quite dead,” he said, and a briskness sprang into his manner. “We must go. Most of the Senatras have already gone to sleep. Come.”
He rapidly led us into the valley, meanwhile instructing us how to respond if greeted. The natives were not garrulous nor inquisitive, and we passed unnoticed, until the outskirts of the settlement were reached. There, in a dimly lighted hut, Mr. Vancouver was resting under guard, Beelo informed us. A barely visible figure challenged Beelo. The prompt response made the shape sink from view.
“We haven’t time to see Mr. Vancouver now,” said the lad to us.
A turn in a lane lined with huts brought us into a beautiful highway, broad and white, and picketed with odorous trees which arched overhead. The darkness would have been profound but for a diffused light which glowed ahead upon something white. We went rapidly toward it, and found it to be a high stone wall; the light was from two lamps on posts where the highway swung to the left and ran at the foot of the wall.
Instead of following the main road Beelo turned into a narrow way to the right. The overhead growth was so dense that the light from the lamps was soon lost, but Beelo knew the way. At last he stopped, and slipped a key into a lock. The heavy wooden door, plated and strapped with iron, suggested a postern in an archaic fortress. He led us within and secured the door.
The nearer approach of the storm brought lightning, which increased Beelo’s caution while revealing glimpses of our environment. In the region behind the wall the verdure was less dense and more orderly than in the park through which we had come. The lightning made the open spaces embarrassing to our guide, who hurried us across them to the shadows. Finely kept paths wound and intersected, but Beelo knew shorter routes. A rising wind assisted the stealth of our progress.
He brought us under the shadow of a low arcade, open on one side, and closed on the other with a long stone house. The pillars were massed in vines. Here the darkness was intense. The stone floor gave no sound under our tread.
Beelo stopped us, advanced a few paces, and rapped on a door. It was cautiously opened, but we could not see within as Beelo entered. A very faint light barely made him visible.
“Lentala!” he whispered, “they are here.”