It was by this time past three o’clock. Feeling hungry, for they had
eaten nothing since early morning, Maskull to forage,
but without much of anything in the shape of food. In a
safe in the he a of oatmeal, which was
untouchable, a quantity of good tea in an caddy, and an
unopened can of ox tongue. Best of all, in the dining-room he
came across an bottle of first-class Scotch whisky. He at once
made for a meal.
A pump in the ran clear after a good of hard at it,
and he out and the kettle. For firewood, one of
the chairs was up with a chopper. The light, wood
made a good in the grate, the was boiled, and cups were
procured and washed. Ten minutes later the friends were in the
library.
Nightspore ate and little, but Maskull sat with good
appetite. There being no milk, took the place of it; the nearly
black tea was mixed with an equal quantity of the spirit. Of this
concoction Maskull cup after cup, and long after the had
disappeared he was still imbibing.
Nightspore looked at him queerly. “Do you to the bottle
before Krag comes?”
“Krag won’t want any, and one must do something. I restless.”
“Let us take a look at the country.”
The cup, which was on its way to Maskull’s lips, in the
air. “Have you anything in view, Nightspore?”
“Let us walk out to the Gap of Sorgie.”
“What’s that?”
“A showplace,” answered Nightspore, his lip.
Maskull off the cup, and rose to his feet. “Walking is better
than at any time, and on a day like this.... How far
is it?”
“Three or four miles each way.”
“You something,” said Maskull, “for I’m to
regard you as a second Krag. But if so, so much the better. I am growing
nervous, and need incidents.”
They left the house by the door, which they left ajar, and immediately
found themselves again on the road that had them from
Haillar. This time they along it, past the tower.
Maskull, as they by, the with puzzled interest.
“What is that tower, Nightspore?”
“We sail from the on the top.”
“Tonight?”—throwing him a quick look.
“Yes.”
Maskull smiled, but his were grave. “Then we are looking at the
gateway of Arcturus, and Krag is now north to it.”
“You no longer think it impossible, I fancy,” Nightspore.
After a mile or two, the road from the sea and swerved
sharply inland, across the hills. With Nightspore as guide, they left it
and took to the grass. A sheep path marked the way along the cliff
edge for some distance, but at the end of another mile it vanished. The
two men then had some walking up and and across
deep gullies. The sun the hills, and twilight
imperceptibly came on. They soon a spot where progress
appeared impossible. The of a at a steep
angle to the very of the cliff, an of
slippery grass. Maskull halted, his beard, and what the
next step was to be.
“There’s a little here,” said Nightspore. “We are used
to climbing, and there is not much in it.”
He a narrow ledge, along the of the a
few yards where they were standing. It from fifteen to
thirty in width. Without waiting for Maskull’s to the
undertaking, he himself and started walking along
this at a pace. Maskull, that there was no help for
it, him. The did not for above a of a
mile, but its passage was unnerving; there was a to
the sea, four hundred below. In a places they had to sidle
along without one another. The of the breakers
came up to them in a low, roar.
Upon a corner, the out into a fair-sized
platform of and came to a end. A narrow of the sea
separated them from the of the beyond.
“As we can’t any further,” said Maskull, “I this is your Gap
of Sorgie?”
“Yes,” answered his friend, on his and then lying
at full length, downward. He his and over the
edge and to at the water.
“What is there there, Nightspore?”
Receiving no reply, however, he his friend’s example, and the
next minute was looking for himself. Nothing was to be seen; the gloom
had deepened, and the sea was nearly invisible. But, while he was
ineffectually gazing, he what like the of a drum
on the narrow of below. It was very faint, but quite
distinct. The were in four-four time, with the third slightly
accented. He now to the noise all the time he was lying
there. The were in no way by the louder of the
surf, but somehow to to a different world....
When they were on their again, he questioned Nightspore. “We came
here to that?”
Nightspore one of his odd looks at him. “It’s called ‘The
Drum Taps of Sorgie.’ You will not that name again, but you
will the again.”
“And if I do, what will it imply?” Maskull in amazement.
“It its own message. Only try always to it more and more
distinctly.... Now it’s dark, and we must back.”
Maskull out his watch automatically, and looked at the time. It
was past six.... But he was of Nightspore’s words, and not of
the time.
*****
Night had already by the time they the tower. The black
sky was with liquid stars. Arcturus was a little way above the
sea, directly opposite them, in the east. As they were the base
of the tower, Maskull with a that the gate was
open. He of Nightspore’s arm violently. “Look! Krag is
back.”
“Yes, we must make to the house.”
“And why not the tower? He’s in there, since the gate is open.
I’m going up to look.”
Nightspore grunted, but no opposition.
All was pitch-black the gate. Maskull a match, and the
flickering light the end of a of stone
steps. “Are you up?” he asked.
“No, I’ll wait here.”
Maskull the ascent. Hardly had he a dozen
steps, however, he was to pause, to breath. He
seemed to be not one Maskull, but three. As he
proceeded, the of weight, so from diminishing,
grew and worse. It was nearly physically to go on; his
lungs not take in oxygen, while his like a
ship’s engine. Sweat his face. At the step he
completed the of the tower and came to with
the window, which was set in a high embrasure.
Realising that he go no higher, he another match, and
climbed into the embrasure, in order that he might at all events see
something from the tower. The died, and he through the
window at the stars. Then, to his astonishment, he that it
was not a window at all but a lens.... The sky was not a wide of
space a of stars, but a darkness, focused
only in one part, where two very stars, like small in size,
appeared in close conjunction; and near them a more minute planetary
object, as as Venus and with an disk. One of the
suns with a white light; the other was a and awful
blue. Their light, though almost in intensity, did not illuminate
the of the tower.
Maskull at once that the of at which he was gazing
was what is to as the star Arcturus.... He had the
sight before, through Krag’s glass, but then the had been smaller,
the colors of the had not appeared in their reality....
These colors to him most marvellous, as if, in them
through earth eyes, he was not them correctly.... But it was at
Tormance that he the and the most earnestly. On that
mysterious and terrible earth, millions of miles distant, it
had been promised him that he would set foot, though he might leave
his there. The that he was to and touch
were already living, at this very moment.
A low, in his ear, from not more than a yard
away. “Don’t you understand, Maskull, that you are only an instrument,
to be used and then broken? Nightspore is asleep now, but when he wakes
you must die. You will go, but he will return.”
Maskull another match, with fingers. No one was
in sight, and all was as the tomb.
The voice did not again. After waiting a minutes, he
redescended to the of the tower. On the open air, his
sensation of weight was removed, but he and
palpitating, like a man who has a too load.
Nightspore’s dark came forward. “Was Krag there?”
“If he was, I didn’t see him. But I someone speak.”
“Was it Krag?”
“It was not Krag—but a voice me against you.”
“Yes, you will these voices too,” said Nightspore enigmatically.
