she did not know! I said as much, and in no very pleasant manner either, but she did not seem to understand even yet.
“Of all that happened in that vault I remember nothing,” she said. “They have done something to me—what is it? My head don’t seem to be right.”
I questioned her further. To me it seemed incredible that she should forget her mad rush toward Maurice, her earnest pleading that he should not take the fatal step.
But she assured me that she did not remember, nor could she account for her time between our arrival at the lamasery and the moment I saw her in the corner of the underground chamber. Her mind seemed to be in a most extraordinary condition. The more I questioned her, the more confused she became.
Then suddenly she broke out with a low, wailing cry and began lamenting Maurice.
She seemed to think they had killed him, that they had offered him up as a sacrifice. In this strange mood she showed an intensity of passion of which I had not believed her capable, and confessed her love for Maurice in the most emphatic terms.
Altogether our interview was a most peculiar one, and decidedly painful for me, for I was utterly at a loss to make her comprehend the situation.
“Kill me! Kill me, Mr. Wylde! Let me go to him!” she wailed. “I loved him! Oh, how I loved him! He did not know it! His eyes were never for me; but you—oh, how I hated you! I—ah God! What is this?”
Suddenly clapping both hands about her head Walla stood before me reeling like a person intoxicated; her eyes closed, the lids began to twitch violently, her face grew whiter still.
Suddenly this paroxysm seemed to pass, and her hands fell to her sides, and for some minutes, she remained as white and rigid as a standing corpse.
Now it need scarcely be said that I was much disturbed by all this, but when I tried to speak, something seemed to have palsied my tongue.
Suddenly the expression of her face changed, and to my amazement I felt rushing upon me all that love for this strange creature which I had previously experienced. I could have caught her in my arms, but she waved me back and spoke in tones wholly unlike her own.
