From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up. She regarded him coldly, as though wondering whether he had anything further to say. “Perhaps,” he queried, “you wish to avoid being seen about with any one—er— connected with the profession, under present circumstances. To win the contest meant you would be chosen to apprentice in magic as a priest under her tutelage. A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look. On a pallet in one corner lay a pale emaciated female. Come to take leave.
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