for my name. I said "Adam More." She repeated this, and it
sounded like "A-tam-or." But as she spoke this slowly her smile died
away. She looked anxious and troubled, and once more that expression
of wondering sadness came over her face. She repeated my name over and
over in this way with a mournful intonation that thrilled through me,
and excited forebodings of evil. "Atamor, Atamor!" And always after
that she called me "Atamor."
But now she sat for some time, looking at me with a face full of pity
and distress. At this I was greatly astonished; for but a moment
before she had been full of smiles, and it was as though something in
my name had excited sorrowful thoughts. Yet how could that be, since
she could never by any possibility have heard my name before? The
beautiful Almah seemed to be not altogether happy, or why should she
be so quick to sadness? There was a mystery about all this which was
quite unaccountable.
It was a singular situation, and one which excited within me feelings
of unutterable delight. This light and splendor, this warmth and
peace--what a contrast it offered to the scenes through which I had
but lately passed! Those scenes of horror, of ice and snow, of storm
and tempest, of cold and hunger, of riven cliff and furious ocean
stream, and, above all, that crowning agony in the bleak iron-land of
the cannibals--from all these I had escaped. I had been drawn down
under the earth to experience the terrors of that unspeakable passage,
and had at last emerged to light and life, to joy and hope. In this
grotto I had found the culmination of all happiness. It was like a
fairy realm; and here was one whose very look was enough to inspire
the most despairing soul with hope and peace and happiness. The only
thing that was now left to trouble me was this mournful face of Almah.
Why did she look at me with such sad interest and such melancholy
meaning? Did she know of any evil fate in store for me? Yet how could
there be any evil fate to be feared from people who had received me
with such unparalleled generosity? No, it could not be; so I resolved
to try to bring back again the smile that had faded out of her face.
I pointed to her, and said, "Almah."
She said, "Atam-or."
And the smile did not come back, but the sadness remained in her face.
My eager desire now was to learn her language, and I resolved at once
to acquire as many words and phrases as possible. I began by asking
the names of thin
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