Then I started giving him the herbs--" "That you 've gathered around at night ?" "Yes--where the dead sleep.

I get the red berries most.

That's the blood of the dead, come to life again." The quaking, crazy voice from below caused Fairchild to shiver with a sudden cold that no warmth could eradicate.

Still, however, he lay there listening, fearful that every move from below might bring a cessation of their conversation.

But Rodaine talked on.
"Of course, I know.