The Temple of Truth
Our preparations did not take us very long. We put a change of clothing apiece and some spare boots into my Gladstone bag, also we took our revolvers and an express rifle each, together with a good supply of ammunition, a precaution to which, under Providence, we subsequently owed our lives over and over again. The rest of our gear, together with our heavy rifles, we left behind us.
A few minutes before the appointed time we once more attended in Ayesha’s boudoir, and found her also ready, her dark cloak thrown over her winding-sheetlike wrappings. “Are ye prepared for the great venture?” she said. “We are,” I answered, “though for my part, Ayesha, I have no faith in it.” “Ah, my Holly,” she said, “thou art of a truth like those old Jews—of whom the memory vexes me s
