Then I recalled that by the evening of the approaching
day, according to all forseen probabilities, we should come to
Bar-Wul-Yann, and I should part from the captain and his sailors. And I
had liked the man because he had given me of his yellow wine that was
set apart among his sacred things, and many a story he had told me
about his fair Belzoond between the Acrotian hills and the Hian Min.
And I had liked the ways that his sailors had, and the prayers that
they prayed at evening side by side, grudging not one another their
alien gods. And I had a liking too for the tender way in which they
often spoke of Durl and Duz, for it is good that men should love their
native cities and the little hills that hold those cities up.
And I had come to know who would meet them when they returned to their
homes, and where they thought the meetings would take place, some in a
valley of the Acrotian hills where the road comes up from Yann, others
in the gateway of one or another of the three cities, and others by
the fireside in the home. And I thought of the danger that had menaced
us all alike outside Perdondaris, a danger that, as things have
happened, was very real.
And I thought too of the helmsman's cheery song in the cold and lonely
night, and how he had held our lives in his careful hands. And as I
thought of this the helmsman ceased to sing, and I looked up and saw a
pale light had appeared in the sky, and the lonely night had passed;
and the dawn widened, and the sailors awoke.
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