John Pride opened his eyes as a moan escaped his lips. The hazecleared and he found himself lying upon a cool stone floor looking upinto the concerned face of the younger man. "What happened?" JohnPride asked feebly. He tried to refocus.
"I don't know except that the heat of that fire was upon us with suchswiftness that we were almost incapacitated. I picked you up andstarted walking. Fortunately I moved in the direction of the door.Otherwise we would have been doomed."
"I am in your debt."
"No more so than I in yours."
"Did you extinguish the fire?"
"It burned out of its own accord. But only after the cave wascompletely gutted. There is nothing left in there but the bare rockwalls."
John Pride sat up with quick concern. "The book!"
"It is gone." The young man looked ruefully down at his own nakedbody. "Gone--together with my precious robe."
"That can easily be replaced along with other raiment but the book--Iwas supposed to deliver it--"
"--to the cavern. You did that, my friend. It was not through you thatthe fire consumed it. You have dispatched your obligation. Let yourmind be at ease."
John Pride got to his feet. He shook his head in the negative. "No. Aportion of my obligation still exists. Fortunately I did not bringforth the second and last item I was to place in the cavern."
"The second item?"
"Yes, and I believe the most important."
* * * * *
With that, Pride took from his pocket a small box wrapped in heavymaterial and sealed and resealed with a sort of rubberized wax.
"This," he said. "I know not what is in the box nor I think, did myfather, my grandfather, nor my great grandfather before me. We havebeen given to understand that its delivery to the cavern was the mostimportant single duty of the trust. So I now place it in your hands,praying that this act fulfills the long-standing obligation of myfamily."
The younger man had salvaged a portion of his robe, a length ofmaterial that went over his shoulders and draped skimpily down thesides of his body. This did nothing whatever in the way of coveringhis nudity but rather accentuated and added to it.
He took the box and was scanning it with great interest when theexcitement and strenuous action of the preceding few minutes againtook grip upon John Pride's comparatively less rugged physique.
His eyes closed and he began sinking again to the floor whereupon theyounger man slipped the box hastily in the pocket that had not burnedaway from his robe and caught John Pride in his arms.
He lifted the elder man and carried him up from the mansion cavernsand into the great hall that swept forward to the main entrance. As hewalked, bearing the heavy burden as though it were but a mere feather,he was of two minds.
One mind entertained concern for his new-found friend and the otherwas occupied with interest in these new and strange surroundings.
Dawn had broken over the forest and in a brooding light within thegreat hall, he saw the withered body of the dead man on the floor. Hepaused for a moment and then went out across the flagstone porch andinto the open air.
He marveled at the green expanse of forest that reared in majestyabout him. He drew in deep gusts of the cool air and found it good. Hesmiled.
Then John Pride stirred in his arms and showed signs of returningconsciousness. The young man laid the financier on the soft grass andwatched until his eyes opened.
"Are you feeling better? Is there anything I can do?"
John Pride smiled feebly as he raised himself with the younger man'said. "I'm afraid this has been more strenuous than I bargained for. IfI'd known what would transpire I would have kept myself in bettercondition."
"But you feel better now?"
"Yes. If you will be so good as to help me to my car, I'll be allright."
"Certainly. Your car--?"
"A means of conveyance that will take me back to the city. It standsbut a few yards down the road beyond the gate."
A short time later, the two men stood at the place that was to be theparting of their ways. Both sensed this and Pride held out his hand.The younger man grasped it firmly.
"Godspeed to you, my friend," John Pride said. "I fear I can help youno further but if there is ever a time when my services are needed, Iwill be waiting for your command."
"Thank you. Whatever befalls me I will always remember you as thefirst friend I ever set eyes upon in this world."
With that, John Pride turned his car and drove off down the windingroad. As he left, the younger man realized the older man had saidnothing of the dead ancient in the great hall but realized it wasbecause of the strain Pride had suffered. The man was still somewhatdazed from the shock of the fire.
* * * * *
He turned and walked slowly back toward the mansion until he stoodagain in the great front yard. There he stopped and stood looking upat the sun as it topped the hill east of the mansion.
"Who am I?" he asked himself. "Why was I given knowledge but not allthe knowledge necessary to intelligently pursue my destiny? In myheart there is a certainty that I am an educated man. I am aware ofthe fact that there are different groups of people who speak differentlanguages and I know I will be able to converse with any I meet.
"I know that there are planets and stars and moons and I know what isto be known of the universe. But where is the exact personal knowledgethat would help me in my dealings with the future? Why was I left herecarefully tended and provided for these hundred years only to behurled suddenly upon my own?"
He walked slowly into the great hall and knelt beside the still figureon the floor. A feeling of compassion stirred him but there was nowarmth of recognition, no personal sorrow as a result of the ancient'sdeath.
"Have I ever seen you before?" he asked softly. "Were you--Portox?"
The dead one did not answer and the young man lifted him and took himfrom the hall and buried him. He could find no tools to dig the soilbut located a hole that had once been a shallow well. He dropped thebody therein and followed it with stones until the hole was filled. Hedid this with no sense of callousness but rather with an impersonalreverence he instinctively felt but could not analyze.
The cryptic verse had become a visual symbol in Bram'smind.]
Returning slowly to the front yard, he pondered the dimension oftime. How, he wondered, could John Pride's line have gone throughthree sires to John Pride, the last of the males, while he himself layfor one hundred years to emerge in his obvious prime? Or perhaps evenon the near side of his prime.
* * * * *
He pondered this and other points until his mind grew weary fromunanswered questions and turned to things of the moment.
"I know not what my destiny is but at least I am able to have a name.What shall it be?"
He remembered the one Portox had used--C. D. Bram. "Bram," he said."That I like." But the C. D. meant nothing to him and Bram seemedsomehow incomplete.
"John Price had a name of two parts," he said, "so why should I nothave the same?"
He looked about him and a breeze in the green branches above seemed towhisper the answer. He heard and considered, then smiled to himself,raised his voice.
"I christen myself Bram Forest, to be known from this moment on bythat name."
Suddenly his smile deepened, then laughter welled from his greatchest; a laughter arising from the sheer joy of this new thing calledliving into which he had stepped.
Now he stretched his arms over his head, palms upward as thoughsupplicating to some far-off deity. He leaped high in the air testinghis muscles and finding them good.
Then he was running, naked and golden off across the open hill. He ranuntil his huge chest pounded with delicious pain as his lungs laboredfor air. Finally he dropped to the ground and lay spread-eagledlooking up at the sky.
He laughed long and joyously.
He lay for a long time thus, then suddenly remembered the box JohnPride had given him. But the scanty garment had dropped from hisshoulders so he sprang to his feet and ran back until he discoveredit.
The box was still there. He examined it curiously turning it over andover in his hands. The seal was stubborn but it finally gave and hepeeled off the heavy wrapping. A small white box came to light.
This he opened to stand frowning at what it contained. An oddinstrument of some sort--a flat disc about two inches in diameter andpossibly a quarter of an inch thick. Both faces were of shining,crystalline metal reflecting back anything that was imaged upon them.
Two short metal straps appended from opposite sides of the queerinstrument, one of which held a buckle at its end. He held the shiningdisc to his ear but there was no sound that he could detect.
Frustrated he looked again into the box. It appeared to be empty. Butno. As he was about to fling it away, he noted that what appeared tobe its inner bottom was in reality a second flat package that fittedperfectly into the receptacle. He shook it free and found it to bemerely a flat rectangle wrapped tightly in white paper.
* * * * *
He was about to rip the paper with his thumbnail when his attentionswitched suddenly to the shining disc. He had envisioned a use for it;or at least a place for which it seemed constructed.
He tested his theory and found the straps fit snugly and perfectlyaround his wrist. He pondered which wrist to place it on and decidedthe right one would be appropriate. Quickly, he snapped the buckleinto its hasp and then held forth his arm to admire the brightness ofthe queer device.
If he had expected anything to happen, he was disappointed and hestood there wondering what use was to be found from such a seeminglyuseless device.
After a while he unbuckled the disc and moved it to his left wrist.Perhaps it would look better there. Again he raised his arm to admireit and had stood thus for some moments when he became conscious of anodd sickness in the pit of his stomach.
He did not associate this with the disc at all and immediately forgotthe thing, giving his whole attention to the uncomfortable feelingthat had come upon him.
The sickness increased in intensity and he bent down, doubling overhis abdomen as the nausea became a pain. As he sank to his knees, henoted the disc had changed, had taken on an odd, transparent glow.
There had to be a connection between his illness and the abominabledevice and he clawed at the buckle, seeking to loosen it and hurl thething away.
But there was no time. The pain sharpened and a black cloud dimmed hissight. He clawed feebly at the buckle and then his numbed fingersweakened, fell away from it.
The darkness increased and seemed to lift him from the ground uponwhich he lay. It clawed at his throat, entered his nostrils like amalignant force.
As his consciousness faded a single thought was in his mind: _Born butto live a few brief moments and die again. What sense is there to sucha farce as this? Born--but--to die--again. Portox! Help me! It can'tbe--There must be some help!_