He to his third day on Tormance. His ached. He on his
side, looking at his surroundings. The was like night,
but that period of the night when the is about to and
objects to be at, than seen. Two or three amazing
shadowy shapes, as as houses, up out of the twilight. He
did not that they were trees, until he over on his back
and their upward. Far overhead, so high up that he dared
not the height, he saw their in the sunlight,
against a of sky.
Clouds of mist, over the of the forest, interrupting
his view. In their passage they were like among
the trees. The him were sodden, and of
moisture onto his from time to time.
He there, trying to the events of the
preceding day. His brain was and confused. Something terrible
had happened, but what it was he not for a long time recollect.
Then there came his that at
dusk on the Sant plateau—Spadevil’s and and
Tydomin’s sighs.... He convulsively, and sick.
The that had these had
departed from him the night, and now he what he had
done! During the whole of the previous day he to have been
labouring under a series of enchantments. First Oceaxe had
enslaved him, then Tydomin, then Spadevil, and Catice. They had
forced him to and violate; he had nothing, but had
imagined that he was as a free and stranger. What
was this for—and would it continue, in the same
way?...
The of the was so that he no except
the of blood through his arteries.
Putting his hand to his face, he that his had
disappeared and that he was in of three eyes. The third eye
was on his forehead, where the old had been. He not its
use. He still had his third arm, but it was nerveless.
Now he puzzled his for a long time, trying to recall
that name which had been the last word spoken by Catice.
He got up, with the of his journey. He had no toilet
to make, and no to prepare. The was tremendous. The nearest
tree appeared to him to have a of at least a hundred feet.
Other looked large. But what gave the its aspect
of was the tree from tree. It was like
some gigantic, in a life after death. The lowest
branches were fifty yards or more from the ground. There was no
underbrush; the was only by the dead, wet leaves. He
looked all around him, to his direction, but the of Sant,
which he had descended, were invisible—every way was like every other
way, he had no idea which to attack. He frightened, and
muttered to himself. Craning his back, he and tried
to the points of the from the direction of the
sunlight, but it was impossible.
While he was there, and hesitating, he the drum
taps. The from some off. The unseen
drummer to be through the forest, away from him.
“Surtur!” he said, under his breath. The next moment he at
himself for the name. That being had not been in his
thoughts, was there any him and the
drumming.
He to reflect—but in the meantime the were away.
Automatically he started walking in the same direction. The beats
had this peculiarity—though odd and mystical, there was nothing awe-
inspiring in them, but on the they him of some place
and some life with which he was perfectly familiar. Once again they
caused all his other to appear false.
The were intermittent. They would go on for a minute, or for five
minutes, and then for a of an hour. Maskull
followed them as well as he could. He walked hard among the huge,
indistinct trees, in the attempt to come up with the of the
noise, but the same always to them. The forest
from now descended. The was mostly gentle—about one foot
in ten—but in some places it was much steeper, and in other parts again
it was level ground for long stretches. There were
great marshes, through which Maskull was to splash. It
was a of to him how wet he became—if only he could
catch of that with the drum. Mile after mile was
covered, and still he was no nearer to doing so.
The of the settled upon his spirits. He felt
despondent, tired, and savage. He had not the for some
while, and was to the pursuit.
Passing around a great, tree trunk, he almost against
a man who was on the side. He was against the
trunk with one hand, in an of repose. His other hand was
resting on a staff. Maskull stopped and at him.
He was nearly naked, and of build. He over-topped Maskull by a
head. His and were phosphorescent. His eyes—three in
number—were green and luminous, like lamps. His skin was
hairless, but the of his was up in thick, black coils,
and like a woman’s. His were tranquil, but
a terrible, energy to just the surface.
Maskull him. “Did the come from you?”
The man his head.
“What is your name?”
He in a strange, strained, voice. Maskull that
the name he gave was “Dreamsinter.”
“What is that drumming?”
“Surtur,” said Dreamsinter.
“Is it for me to it?”
“Why?”
“Perhaps he me to. He me here from Earth.”
Dreamsinter of him, down, and into his face.
“Not you, but Nightspore.”
This was the time that Maskull had Nightspore’s name since
his on the planet. He was so that he no
more questions.
“Eat this,” said Dreamsinter. “Then we will the together.”
He something up from the ground and it to Maskull. He
could not see distinctly, but it like a hard, nut, of the
size of a fist.
“I can’t it.”
Dreamsinter took it his hands, and it into pieces. Maskull
then ate some of the pulpy interior, which was disagreeable.
“What am I doing in Tormance, then?” he asked.
“You came to Muspel-fire, to give a life to men—never
doubting if your that burning.”
Maskull the words.
“Muspel.... That’s the name I’ve been trying to since I
awoke.”
Dreamsinter his sideways, and appeared to listen
for something. He with his hand to Maskull to keep quiet.
“Is it the drumming?”
“Hush! They come.”
He was looking toward the upper forest. The now familiar was
heard—this time by the of feet.
Maskull saw, through the trees and toward them, three
men in single file from one another by only a or so. They
were hill at a pace, and looked neither to left
nor right. They were naked. Their were against the black
background of the with a pale, light—green and
ghostly. When they were of him, about twenty off, he
perceived who they were. The man was himself—Maskull. The second
was Krag. The third man was Nightspore. Their were and set.
The of the was out of sight. The appeared to come
from some point in of them. Maskull and Dreamsinter put themselves
in motion, to keep up with the moving marchers. At the same time
a low, music began.
Its with the beats, but, the latter, it did
not to from any particular of the forest. It
resembled the music in dreams, which the
dreamer everywhere, as a of natural atmosphere, all his
experiences emotional. It to issue from an orchestra,
and was troubled, and tragic. Maskull marched, and
listened; and as he listened, it louder and stormier. But the pulse
of the all the other sounds, like the beating
of reality.
His deepened. He not have said if minutes or hours were
passing. The on, a little way ahead, on a
path with his own and Dreamsinter’s. The music pulsated
violently. Krag his arm, and a long, murderous-looking
knife. He and, it over the Maskull’s
back, him twice, the knife in the the second time.
Maskull up his arms, and dead. Krag into the
forest and from sight. Nightspore on alone, and
unmoved.
The music rose to crescendo. The whole dim, was roaring
with sound. The came from all sides, from above, from the ground
under their feet. It was so that Maskull his
soul from its envelope.
He to Nightspore. A to in
front of them. It was not daylight, but a such as he had never
seen before, and such as he not have to be possible.
Nightspore moved toward it. Maskull his bursting.
The light higher. The of the music hard
one upon another, like the of a wild, magic ocean.... His was
incapable of such shocks, and all of a he over
in a that death.
