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Updated: June 14, 2025
"You seem to be in a very combative frame of mind," the other answered, sitting down and looking at his watch. "If you cannot revive him, he ought to be brought to more comfortable quarters for the night." "In his present condition of course," said Keyork with a sneer. "Do you think he would be in danger on the way?" "I never think I know," snarled the sage.
Everything was in its usual position, except the body of the African. She was quite sure that when she had head that unearthly cry, the dead faces had all been turned towards her. "It is no matter," replied Keyork in a tone of indifference which was genuine. "I wish somebody would take my collection off my hands. I should have room to walk about without elbowing a failure at every step."
"I did not offer to see for you. I did not offer you a dream." "Would you show me that which I already see, waking and sleeping? Would you bring to my hearing the sound of a voice which I can hear even now? I need no help for that." "I can do more than that for you." "And why for me?" he asked with some curiosity. "Because because you are Keyork Arabian's friend."
How can you be expected to care for the great problem of problems, for the mighty question of prolonging life?" Keyork laughed again, with a meaning in his laughter which escaped his companion altogether. "How can you be expected to care?" he repeated. "And yet men used to say that it was the duty of strong youth to support the trembling weakness of feeble old age."
If Unorna could be said to know the meaning of the word fear in any degree whatsoever, it was in relation to Keyork Arabian, the man who during the last few years had been her helper and associate in the great experiment.
Not I!" laughed Keyork in his deepest voice. "My collection is complete enough." She seized him suddenly by both arms, and brought her face near to his. "If you dare to speak of death " She grew intensely white, with a fear she had not before known in her life. Keyork laughed again, and tried to shake himself free of her grip. "You seem a little nervous," he observed calmly.
But to give it a fair trial he wished to apply it at the precise point when, according to all previous experience, the moment of death was past the moment when the physician usually puts his watch in his pocket and looks about for his hat. Possibly if Kafka, being left without any assistance, had shown no further signs of sinking, Keyork would have helped him to sink a little lower.
But since Keyork had been with her a doubt had assailed her which painfully disturbed her thoughts, so that her brow contracted with anxiety and from time to time she drew a quick hard breath. Keyork had taken it for granted that the Wanderer's sleep was not natural.
His face, too, was changed and ennobled, his gestures larger, even his small stature ceased, for once, to seem dwarfish and gnome-like. "Keyork Arabian, is it possible that you love me?" she cried, in her wonder. "Possible? True? There is neither truth nor possibility in anything else for me, in anything, in any one, but you, Unorna.
"I saw something like a knife in his hand, as we shut him in," said the Wanderer with the same indifference as before. "Then I will take the Individual," Keyork answered promptly. "A man's bare hands must be strong and clever to take a man's life in a scuffle, and few men can use a pistol to any purpose. But a knife is a weapon of precision. I will take the Individual, decidedly."
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