THE TALE OF THE LOST LAND
CHAPTER 44: A POSTSCRIPT BY CLARENCE
Then such a delirium of silly laughter overtook him that he reeled
about like a drunken man, and presently fetched up against one
of our wires. His mouth is spread open yet; apparently he is still
laughing. I suppose the face will retain that petrified laugh until
the corpse turns to dust.
The Boss has never stirred--sleeps like a stone. If he does not
wake to-day we shall understand what kind of a sleep it is, and
his body will then be borne to a place in one of the remote recesses
of the cave where none will ever find it to desecrate it. As for
the rest of us--well, it is agreed that if any one of us ever
escapes alive from this place, he will write the fact here, and
loyally hide this Manuscript with The Boss, our dear good chief,
whose property it is, be he alive or dead.
THE END OF THE MANUSCRIPT