off his saddle and bridle and hung them up, then threw down fodder from a saddle-bag, barred the entrance with a stout branch, and walked briskly up to the cave.
Galapas was not there, but that he had gone only recently was attested by the fact that the brazier which stood inside the cave mouth had been banked down to a glow. I stirred it till the flames leapt, then settled near it with a book. I had not come today by arrangement, but had plenty of time, so left the bats alone, and read peacefully for a while.
I don't know what made me, that day out of all the days I had been there alone, suddenly put the book aside, and walk back past the veiled mirror to look up at the cleft through which I had fled five years ago.
I told myself that I was only curious to see if it was as I had remembered it, or if the crystals, like the visions, were figments of my imagination; whatever the reason, I climbed quickly to the ledge, and dropping on my hands and knees by the gap, peered in.
The inner cave was dead and dark, no glimmer reaching it from the fire. I crawled forward cautiously, till my hands met the sharp crystals. They were all too real. Even now not admitting to myself why I hurried, with one eye on the mouth of the main cave and an ear open for Galapas' return, I slithered down from the ledge, snatched up the leather riding jerkin which I had discarded and, hurrying back, thrust it in front of me through the gap. Then I crawled after.
With the leather jerkin spread on the floor, the globe was comparatively comfortable. I lay still. The silence was complete. As my eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, I could see the faintest grey glimmer from the crystals, but of the magic that the light had brought there was no sign.
There must have been some crack open to the air, for even in that dark confine there was a slight current, a cold thread of a draught. And with it came the sound I was listening for, the footsteps of someone approaching over the frosty rock...
When Galapas came into the cave a few minutes later I was sitting by the fire, my jerkin rolled up beside me, poring over the book.
Half an hour before dusk we put our books aside. But still I made no move to go. The fire was blazing now, filling the cave with warmth and flickering light. We sat for a while in silence.
"Galapas, there's something I want to ask you."
"Yes?"
"Do you remember the first day I came here?"
"Very clearly."
"You knew I was coming. You were expecting me."
"Did I say so?"
"You know you did. How did you know I would be here?"
"I saw you in the crystal cave."
"Oh, that, yes. You moved the mirror so that the candlelight caught me, and you saw my shadow. But that's not what I was asking you. I meant, how did you know I was going to come up the valley that day?"
"That was the question I answered, Merlin. I knew you were coming up the valley that day, because, before you came, I saw you in the cave."
We looked at one another in silence. The flames glowed and muttered between us, flattened by the little draught that carried the smoke out of the cave. I don't think I answered him at first, I just nodded. It was something I had known. After a while I said, merely: "Will you show me?"
He regarded me for a moment more, then got to his feet. "It is time. Light the candle."
I obeyed him. The little light grew golden, reaching among the shadows cast by the flickering of the fire.
"Take the rug off the mirror."
I pulled at it and it fell off into my arms in a huddle of wool. I dropped it on his bed beside the wall.
"Now go up on the ledge, and lie down."
"On the ledge?"
"Yes. Lie on your belly, with your head towards the cleft, so that you can see in."
"Don't you want me to go right in?"
"And take your jerkin to lie on?"
I was halfway up to the ledge. I whipped round, to see him smiling.
"It's no use, Galapas, you know everything."
"Some day you will go where even with the Sight I cannot follow you. Now lie still, and watch."
I lay