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Updated: June 12, 2025
The girl who, at the command of her father, had given Sorez the image was made an exile in consequence of this act by a decree of the priest. But the thread of love is universal. It is the strain out of which springs all idealism even the notion of God and as such is bounded by neither time nor place. It is in the beating hearts of all things human the definition perhaps of humanity.
As the Priest stooped, his long coat swayed within reach of the long-waiting fingers. Sorez gripped both laps and that grip was the grip of death. Before the Priest understood the situation, Sorez had bent his bound legs double beneath him and, gripping the tightly bound straw with his heels, shoved with all his strength towards the edge of the raft.
The man tottered to his feet, groping with his hand along the wall. "Here," said Wilson, overcoming a shrinking repugnance he now felt for the man, "take my arm." Sorez grabbed it and with this much help was able to get along. And so, with the girl he loved upon one arm and the man he hated upon the other, Wilson made his way along the slippery subterranean galleries.
He was full of illusions, excited by all the unusual happenings, and now, as he felt his way along the dark passage, he could have sworn that her fingers still rested upon his. It made him restless to get back to her. He should not have left her behind alone and unprotected. It was very possible that this swoon of Sorez' was but a ruse. He must hurry on about his investigation.
It seemed only humane to care for Sorez. On the first floor he found a divan and, with the help of the soldiers, arranged him upon this, where he, too, was soon fast asleep. Then he returned to the second floor and, lying down before her door, was soon unconscious himself. How long he lay so he could not tell, but he was aroused by the sound of shouting outside the house.
He had no doubt but that the Priest had killed Sorez and was now holding the girl a prisoner, perhaps even anticipating her death. It was his duty, his privilege, to set her free. He fitted the stock of the weapon into his armpit, and raised the barrel. His hand was weak; the gun trembled so that he dared not shoot.
It was possible she was held a prisoner possible that Sorez, failing to persuade her to go with him in any other way, might attempt to abduct her. Doubtless she had told him her story, and he knew that with only an indifferent housekeeper to look after the girl no great stir would be made over her disappearance. Like dozens of others, she would be accounted for as having gone to the city to work.
His eyes were very like those in the image. The girl shuddered. "Deeper deeper!" came the relentless command. Her voice came back muffled as though from a distance. "It is dark dark." She began to gasp. Then suddenly she placed her hand to her head. "I see no gold I see no gold!" Sorez sank to his knees before the girl. His face was chalk white. "Gone? Is it gone?"
Had it been done by the priest or by Sorez? Above all, what in the meanwhile had become of his comrade? When the visiting surgeon came in, Wilson told him quite simply that he must leave at once. "Better stay, boy. A day here now may save you a month." "A day here now might spoil my life." "A day outside might cost it." "I'm willing." "Well, we can't hold you against your will.
Or after the priest had gone did Sorez find him and take this way to rid himself of an influence that might destroy his power over the girl? This last would have been impossible of accomplishment if the girl herself knew of it. The other theories seemed improbable. At any rate, there was little use in sitting here speculating, when the problem still remained of how to locate the girl.
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