LAMP OF HEAVEN The white men peered from among the oil-jars, like two of the Forty Thieves.

They could detect no movement, friendly or hostile: the black head lodged there without stirring.

The watcher, whether he had seen them or not, was in no hurry; for with chin propped among the weeds, he held a pose at once alert and peaceful, mischievous and leisurely, as though he were master of that hollow, and might lie all night drowsing or waking, as the humor prompted.
Wutzler pressed his face against the earth, and shivered in the stifling heat.

The uncertainty grew, with Rudolph, into an acute distress.

His legs ached and twitched, the bones of his neck were stretched as if to break, and a corner of broken clay bored sharply between his ribs.