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The People of the Mist by H. Rider (Henry Rider) Haggard
page 55 of 519 (10%)
hushed and expectant. It was the woman who broke this silence, speaking
in a low voice of awe and adoration and, as she spoke, sinking to her
knees.

"And hast thou come to claim me at the last," she said, addressing
Otter, "O thou whose name is Darkness, to whom I was given in marriage,
and from whom I fled when I was young? Do I see thee in the flesh, Lord
of the night, King of blood and terror, and is this thy priest? Or do
I but dream? Nay, I dream not; slay on, thou priest, and let my sin be
purged."

"Here it seems," said Otter, "that we have to do with one who is mad."

"Nay, Jal," the woman answered, "I am not mad, though madness has been
nigh to me of late."

"Neither am I named Jal or Darkness," answered the dwarf with
irritation; "cease to speak folly, and tell the White Lord whence you
come, for I weary of this talk."

"If you are not Jal, Black One, the thing is strange, for as Jal is so
you are. But perchance it does not please you, having put on the flesh,
to avow yourself before me. At the least be it as you will. If you are
not Jal, then I am safe from your vengeance, and if you are Jal I pray
you forget the sins of my youth and spare me."

"Who is Jal?" asked Leonard curiously.

"Nay, I know not," answered the woman, with a sudden change of manner.
"Hunger and weariness have turned my brain, and I spoke wandering words.
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