You sleep first, for two hours, and I'll watch--"
"You first, my friend--" Suppressing a mighty yawn.
"It is easier for me to keep awake. Lie down on that horrible bed. I do
not so much mind waiting a little longer."
Adan lifted his nose at the bunk covered with a bearskin, then flung
himself upon it, and was asleep in three minutes. Roldan sat with his
eyes applied to a rift between the hide-door and the wall. It commanded
a view of the opposite wall of the canon, over which wound a zig-zag
horse trail.
The sun, which had hung directly above the canon when Hill and Rafael
departed, had slid toward the west, leaving the canon cold and dark
again, and Roldan was about to call Adan, when he sprang to his feet,
and stood rigid, cold with fear.
On the brow of the wall opposite, three hundred feet above his head,
stood a powerful brown horse. On him was a huge figure clad in a brown
cassock, the hood drawn well over the face. It was impossible to
distinguish features at that distance, but Roldan fancied that those
terrible eyes were holding his own. He recovered himself and dragged
Adan out of bed.
"The priest!" he said. "Help me to wash these dishes--quick.
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