halting…. Through the open gateway the shadows appeared less dense: noiselessly on my hands and knees, keeping my shoulder close to the wall, I crawled towards the opening.
The men had put their heavy burden on the floor: they did not speak, hardly did I hear them breathing. My fear was lest they should detect me before I had reached the gate, but they seemed not to have noticed me, and now, one by one, they turned and filed out. I was close to the opening, leaning against the wall, ready to crawl out in the last man's wake…. From the inside of my prison the same unknown scent of some highly aromatic herb was wafted in great clouds towards my nostrils … the fumes were overpowering, and I was tired and sleepy from my long, anxious wait.… The men had all slipped noiselessly through the opening … the cloak of the last one had caught in a projecting bit of carving … he stooped quietly to disentangle it … I could see his outline very clearly against the lighted corridor beyond…. My lids fell heavily over my eyes … I tried to shake off my torpor, for the last effort for freedom … but I was too sleepy.… I could not move. A great whiff of that enervating, burning herb made me long for rest and sleep! … I was too tired … I would slip out by-and-by…. Now I must have sleep.
The man with the cloak had slipped out … I think the gate swung to, and I crouched once more with my chin between my knees…. I wondered what the herb was…. I must find out … it would do instead of ether in cases of minor operations … it was sweet and pleasant, but overpowering.
From the sanctuary a sudden brilliant ray of light struck for an instant through the aperture … some
