All the way to it we had met no one; on it we met no
one. After striking the highway we walked along it as fast as we dared. We
should have liked to run a mile or two, but we were careful to comport
ourselves as wayfarers and not act so as to appear fugitives. The night
was overcast and pitch dark. We must have walked fully four miles, which
is about one third of the way to Loria.
Then, being tired and with no reason whatever for going anywhere in
particular, we sat down to rest on the projecting base-course of a
pretentious tomb of great size but much neglected. It was so dilapidated,
in fact, that Agathemer, feeling about by where he sat, found an aperture
big enough for us to crawl into. It began to rain and we investigated the
opening. Apparently this huge tomb had been hastily built by dishonest
contractors, for here, low down, where the substructure should have been
as durable and solid as possible, they had cheapened the wall by inserting
some of those big earthenware jars which are universally built into the
upper parts of high walls to lighten the construction. A slab of the
external shell of gaudy marbles had fallen out, leaving an aperture nearly
as big as the neck of the great jar.
As the rain increased to a downpour we wriggled and squirmed through the
hole, barely squeezing ourselves in, and found the jar a bit dusty but dry
and comfortable.
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