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Updated: June 2, 2025
Personally and as a man he was extremely attached to Bickley as a necessary and wrong-headed nuisance to which he had become accustomed. And I! What did I feel? I do not know; I cannot describe. An extraordinary attraction, a semi-spiritual exaltation, I think. That cave mouth might have been a magnet drawing my soul.
"Within a year, my dear fellow," said Bickley, "you will have your throat cut as a sacrifice, and probably ours also. It is a pity, too, as within that time I should have stamped out ophthalmia and some other diseases in the island." Here, leaving Bastin and his good work aside for a while, I will say a little about the country.
"So loving," he would say, "such a devoted wife! Why, my dear Humphrey, I can assure you that even in the midst of her death-struggle her last thoughts were of me," words that caused Bickley to snort with more than usual vigour, until I kicked him to silence beneath the table. Now I must tell of my own terrible sorrow, which turned my life to bitterness and my hopes to ashes.
Yes Bastin, pale and dishevelled and looking shrunk, with his hair touzled and his beard apparently growing all ways, but still Bastin alive, if very weak. Bickley ran at him and made a cursory examination with his fingers. "Nothing broken," he said triumphantly. "He's all right." "If you had hung over a towel for many hours in most violent weather you would not say that," groaned Bastin.
Bickley knelt down and smelt at the stone. "It is an odd thing, Humphrey," he said, "but there is a strange odour here, a very pleasant odour like that of sandal-wood or attar of roses." "I never heard of a rat that smelt like sandal-wood or attar of roses," said Bastin. "Look out that it isn't a snake."
Thinking that he referred to himself these children of Nature contemplated his angular form doubtfully and shook their heads. Then for the first time one of the men who was wearing a mask and a wicker crate on his head, spoke in a hollow voice, saying: "If you try Oro will eat you up." "Head priest!" said Bickley, nudging me.
The result of this, or so I supposed, was that the compressed air acted as a buffer, lessening our momentum, till at length the huge stone moved but very slowly. "Be ready to follow me," cried Yva again, and we rose to our feet, that is, Bickley and I did, but poor Bastin was semi-comatose. The stone stopped and Yva sprang from it to a rock platform level with which it lay.
Evidently they considered it a magical and religious ceremony; indeed ever afterwards they called Bickley the Great Priest, or sometimes the Great Healer in later days. This was a grievance to Bastin who considered that he had been robbed of his proper title, especially when he learned that among themselves he was only known as "the Bellower," because of the loud voice in which he addressed them.
"Ten years," said Bickley. "Well, of course, it is impossible, but perhaps " and he paused. "Ten tens," she went on with a deepening smile, "one hundred." "O!" said Bickley. "Ten hundreds, one thousand." "I say!" said Bickley. "Ten times ten thousand, one hundred thousand." Bickley became silent. "Twice one hundred thousand and half a hundred thousand, two hundred and fifty thousand years.
He is not sure; he thinks to himself, I will wait and find out whether or no these funny people cheat me." Bickley coloured and made some remark about things which were contrary to experience, also that Tommy in a general way was rather a greedy little dog. "I am glad to hear it," interrupted Bastin, "for Bickley wants a lot of cooking done, and I find it tedious."
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