Will held out his hand. Thanks to his father's ointment, the raw surfaces were healing well, but they were still very tender. The bear sniffed at them. She went as often as she could to the little valley, to run errands for the woman or simply to chatter and listen, for the woman had wonderful tales to tell. Again and again she hoped for a glimpse of the sleeper, but it had only happened once, and; she accepted that it would probably never be allowed again. Will took the papers the man was holding out, and then held Lyra's arm and urged her away. So he shook her hand, finding it firm and cool and soft. She turned to the golden monkey, who had been sitting behind her all the time, and a look passed between them that Will couldn't interpret. His father's smile was full of pride and tenderness. "Well done, my boy. Well done indeed," he said. Metatron said, "Where is she? Where is your daughter?" "Not only that, but ordinary seeing at the same time. Try it now." Meanwhile, the Chevalier was busy, and after a few minutes he put his lodestone away and said, "I have told Lord Roke of our position, and they are sending a gyropter to bring us away as soon as you have spoken to your friend." The aged being gestured shakily at the intention craft, and cackled and muttered to himself, plucking incessantly at his beard, and then threw back his head and uttered a howl of such anguish that Mrs. Coulter had to cover her ears. "Make for the top of the cliff," said the dragonfly rider, "and give yourself up to the Africans. They're your best hope." "But what are you going to do?" she said. "Will she reveal anything willingly? Or will she need to be tortured?" said Lord Roke, watching her directly as he spoke. With that in mind he let himself stumble, and uttered little moans of pain, and pleaded once or twice for the other to stop, all the time watching closely, moving nearer, estimating how big the other was, how quickly he could move, which way he was looking. And after another hour of toil, he said to her: Atal, the zatif who was her particular friend, exclaimed with astonishment one day when Mary unfolded the knife and showed her all the parts, and explained as well as she could, with her limited language, what they were for. One attachment was a miniature magnifying glass, with which she began to burn a design onto a dry branch, and it was that which set her thinking about Shadows. Finally she heard the door closing in the other room and roused herself to stand up.