Francis Worcester Doughty

“ Bitterly I cursed the strange influence which he had come to exercise over Maurice, but for my friend’s sake I struggled on, firm in the belief that we had started on a fruitless quest.
It was useless to try and talk, for only by shouting could we make ourselves heard. The fury of the wind seemed to increase every moment. The snow whirled against our faces with blinding intensity, yet in spite of it all we started down the mountain road by the way we had come. ”

“ Come! We are wasting time.”
“Impossible!” shouted Maurice, and even then I could scarcely hear him. “You nor no other man can see in a whirl like this.”
“Friends,” he answered. “I see by a vision of which you know nothing. Every moment is precious: for God’s sake come!”
I had gained Mausice’s side by this time, and with my mouth close to his ear begged him earnestly not to go—or at least to insist on the lantern. ”

“ Twenty paces brought us to the white boulder. We came upon it suddenly; almost before we knew it there it was rising before us amid the whirl of snow.
“Is there any one here?” shouted Mirrikh, flashing the lantern about.
Then for the first time I heard that voice which was to have such power to move me later on.
“Help! Oh help us! We are perishing!”
Though spoken with a very marked accent, the words were in our own language. It is hard to express the effect this produced on me, and I am sure with Maurice it was just the same.
“George! It is a woman! She is speaking English!” ”