He saw Lakla, sprang to her, gripped her in his arms.
"Lakla!" he cried.

"Mavourneen!" She slipped from his embrace, blushing, glancing at the Three shyly, half-fearfully.

And again I saw the tenderness creep into the inky, flame-shot orbs of the woman being; and a tenderness in the others too--as though they regarded some well-beloved child.
"You lay in the arms of Death, Larry," she said.

"And the Silent Ones drew you from him.

Do homage to the Silent Ones, Larry, for they are good and they are mighty!" She turned his head with one of the long, white hands--and he looked into the faces of the Three; looked long, was shaken even as had been Olaf and myself; was swept by that same wave of power and of--of--what can I call it ?--_holiness_ that streamed from them.
Then for the first time I saw real awe mount into his face.