In the old days she would have asked him imperiously to tell her what was the matter with him; but she must not do that now--she dare not even rock her indignant arms; she could only walk silently by his side, longing fervently to shake him.
He had quite forgotten her presence; indeed, she was not really there, for a number of years had passed, and he was Corp Shiach, walking the Den alone.

To-morrow he was to bring his boy to show him the old Lair and other fondly remembered spots; to-night he must revisit them alone.

So he set out blithely, but, to his bewilderment, he could not find the Lair.

It had not been a tiny hollow where muddy water gathered; he remembered an impregnable fortress full of men whose armour rattled as they came and went; so this could not be the Lair.
He had taken the wrong way to it, for the way was across a lagoon, up a deep-flowing river, then by horse till the rocky ledge terrified all four-footed things; no, up a grassy slope had never been the way.

He came night after night, trying different ways; but he could not find the golden ladder, though all the time he knew that the Lair lay somewhere over there.