Chapter 52

The sight which met Diana's eyes after yet another episode of her sudden collapse at the dining hall had the horror of a dream within a dream, with the reality of sensibility added.

The dim-lit chamber was as she had seen it last at the dark natives' cavern; except that the shadowy look had gone in the glare of the many lantern lights, and every piece of each oil lamp stood stark and solidly real in the niche of the chamber she was in.

By the empty mattress sat young Celestina, as Diana's eyes had last seen her, sitting bolt upright in the chair beside the bed. She had placed a pillow behind her so that her back might be erect, but her neck was tightened as that of one in a warrior trance. She was, to all pursuits and goals, turned into stone as she surveyed her.

There was no outstanding attitude on her face--no anxiety, no horridness; nothing such as might be anticipated of one in such a circumstance. "Celestina, where is Jenna? I haven't seen her in the dining hall."