Bible under the cushion of the sofa so that it was
all covered, brought out from the same place a mat of a wonderfully fine
texture, and heaped the herbs and leaves on sand in a tin pan. And then
he and Keola put on the necklaces and took their stand upon the opposite
corners of the mat.

"The time comes," said the warlock; "be not afraid."

With that he set flame to the herbs, and began to mutter and wave the
branch of palm. At first the light was dim because of the closed
shutters; but the herbs caught strongly afire, and the flames beat upon
Keola, and the room glowed with the burning: and next the smoke rose and
made his head swim and his eyes darken, and the sound of Kalamake
muttering ran in his ears. And suddenly, to the mat on which they were
standing came a snatch or twitch, that seemed to be more swift than
lightning. In the same wink the room was gone and the house, the breath
all beaten from Keola's body. Volumes of light rolled upon his eyes and
head, and he found himself transported to a beach of the sea, under a
strong sun, with a great surf roaring: he and the warlock standing there
on the same mat, speechless, gasping and grasping at one another, and
passing their hands before their eyes.

"What was this?" cried Keola, who came to himself the first, because he
was the younger. "The pang of it was like death."

"It matters not," panted Kalamake. "It is now done."

"And in the name of God where are we?" cried Keola.

"That is not the question," replied the sorcerer. "Being here, we have
matter in our hands, and that we must attend to. Go, while I recover my
breath, into the borders of the wood, and bring me the leaves of such
and such a herb, and such and such a tree, which you will find to grow
there plentifully--three handfuls of each. And be speedy. We must be
home again before the steamer comes; it would seem strange if we had
disappeared." And he sat on the sand and panted.

Keola went up the beach, which was of shining sand and coral, strewn
with singular shells; and he thought in his heart--

"How do I not know this beach? I will come here again and gather
shells."

In front of him was a line of palms against the sky; not like the palms
of the Eight Islands, but tall and fresh and beautiful, and hanging out
withered fans like gold among the green, and he thought in his heart--

"It is strange I should not have found this grove. I will come here
again, when it is warm, to sleep." And he