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Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"Ayesha, the Return of She"

Perchance she may
believe you, and be content to wait; or if she does not, at least no
more words. I must sleep or my brain will burst. Give me that medicine
which brings dreamless rest, for never did I need it more, who also feel
eyes upon me," and she glanced towards the door.
Then I left, and not too soon, for as I crept down the darksome passage,
I heard it open behind me.

CHAPTER VIII
THE DEATH-HOUNDS
It may have been ten o'clock on the following morning, or a little past
it, when the Shaman Simbri came into my room and asked me how I had
slept.
"Like a log," I answered, "like a log. A drugged man could not have
rested more soundly."
"Indeed, friend Holly, and yet you look fatigued."
"My dreams troubled me somewhat," I answered. "I suffer from such
things. But surely by your face, friend Simbri, you cannot have slept at
all, for never yet have I seen you with so weary an air."
"I am weary," he said, with a sigh. "Last night I spent up on my
business--watching at the Gates."
"What gates?" I asked. "Those by which we entered this kingdom, for, if
so, I would rather watch than travel them."
"The Gates of the Past and of the Future. Yes, those two which you
entered, if you will; for did you not travel out of a wondrous Past
towards a Future that you cannot _guess?_"
"But both of which interest you," I suggested.


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