Corpang

: A Voyage To Arcturus

Maskull did not awaken till long after Blodsombre. Leehallfae was

standing by his side, looking down at him. It was doubtful whether ae

had slept at all.



"What time is it?" Maskull asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting up.



"The day is passing," was the vague reply.



Maskull got on to his feet, and gazed up at the cliff. "Now I'm going to

climb that. No need for both of us to risk ur necks, so you wait here,

and if I find anything on top I'll call you."



Ale phaen glanced at him strangely. "There's nothing up there except

a bare hillside. I've been there often. Have you anything special in

mind?"



"Heights often bring me inspiration. Sit down, and wait."



Refreshed by his sleep, Maskull immediately attacked the face of the

cliff, and took the first twenty feet at a single rush. Then it

grew precipitous, and the ascent demanded greater circumspection and

intelligence. There were few hand- or footholds: he had to reflect

before every step. On the other hand, it was sound rock, and he was no

novice at the sport. Branchspell glared full on the wall, so that it

half blinded him with its glittering whiteness.



After many doubts and pauses he drew near the top. He was hot, sweating

copiously, and rather dizzy. To reach a ledge he caught hold of two

projecting rocks, one with each hand, at the same time scrambling

upward, his legs between the rocks. The left-hand rock, which was the

larger of the two, became dislodged by his weight, and, flying like a

huge, dark shadow past his head, crashed down with a terrifying sound to

the foot of the precipice, followed by an avalanche of smaller stones.

Maskull steadied himself as well as he could, but it was some moments

before he dared to look down behind him.



At first he could not distinguish Leehallfae. Then he caught sight

of legs and hindquarters a few feet up the cliff from the bottom. He

perceived that the phaen had aer head in a cavity and was scrutinising

something, and waited for aer to reappear.



Ae emerged, looked up to Maskull, and called out in aer hornlike voice,

"The entrance is here!"



"I'm coming down!" roared Maskull. "Wait for me!"



He descended swiftly--without taking too much care, for he thought he

recognised his "luck" in this discovery--and within twenty minutes was

standing beside the phaen.



"What happened?"



"The rock you dislodged struck this other rock just above the spring. It

tore it out of its bed. See--now there's room for us to get in!"



"Don't get excited!" said Maskull. "It's a remarkable accident, but we

have plenty of time. Let me look."



He peered into the hole, which was large enough to admit a big man

without stooping. Contrasted with the daylight outside it was dark, yet

a peculiar glow pervaded the place, and he could see well enough. A rock

tunnel went straight forward into the bowels of the hill, out of sight.

The valley brook did not flow along the floor of this tunnel, as he had

expected, but came up as a spring just inside the entrance.



"Well Leehallfae, not much need to deliberate, eh? Still, observe that

your stream parts company with us here."



As he turned around for an answer he noticed that his companion was

trembling from head to foot.



"Why, what's the matter?"



Leehallfae pressed a hand to aer heart. "The stream leaves us, but what

makes the stream what it is continues with us. Faceny is there."



"But surely you don't expect to see him in person? Why are you shaking?"



"Perhaps it will be too much for me after all."



"Why? How is it affecting you?"



The phaen took him by the shoulder and held him at arm's length,

endeavouring to study him with aer unsteady eyes. "Faceny's thoughts are

obscure. I am his lover, you are a lover of women, yet he grants to you

what he denies to me."



"What does he grant to me?"



"To see him, and go on living. I shall die. But it's immaterial.

Tomorrow both of us will be dead."



Maskull impatiently shook himself free. "Your sensations may be reliable

in your own case, but how do you know I shall die?"



"Life is flaming up inside you," replied Leehallfae, shaking aer head.

"But after it has reached its climax--perhaps tonight--it will sink

rapidly and you'll die tomorrow. As for me, if I enter Threal I shan't

come out again. A smell of death is being wafted to me out of this

hole."



"You talk like a frightened man. I smell nothing."



"I am not frightened," said Leehallfae quietly--ae had been gradually

recovering aer tranquillity--"but when one has lived as long as I have,

it is a serious matter to die. Every year one puts out new roots."



"Decide what you're going to do," said Maskull with a touch of contempt,

"for I'm going in at once."



The phaen gave an odd, meditative stare down the ravine, and after that

walked into the cavern without another word. Maskull, scratching his

head, followed close at aer heels.



The moment they stepped across the bubbling spring, the atmosphere

altered. Without becoming stale or unpleasant, it grew cold, clear

and refined, and somehow suggested austere and tomblike thoughts.

The daylight disappeared at the first bend in the tunnel. After that,

Maskull could not say where the light came from. The air itself must

have been luminous, for though it was as light as full moon on Earth,

neither he nor Leehallfae cast a shadow. Another peculiarity of the

light was that both the walls of the tunnel and their own bodies

appeared colourless. Everything was black and white, like a lunar

landscape. This intensified the solemn, funereal feelings created by the

atmosphere.



After they had proceeded for about ten minutes, the tunnel began to

widen out. The roof was high above their heads, and six men could

have walked side by side. Leehallfae was visibly weakening. Ae dragged

aerself along slowly and painfully, with sunken head.



Maskull caught hold of aer. "You can't go on like that. Better let me

take you back."



The phaen smiled, and staggered. "I'm dying."



"Don't talk like that. It's only a passing indisposition. Let me take

you back to the daylight."



"No, help me forward. I wish to see Faceny."



"The sick must have their way," said Maskull. Lifting aer bodily in his

arms, he walked quickly along for another hundred yards or so. They then

emerged from the tunnel and faced a world the parallel of which he had

never set eyes upon before.



"Set me down!" directed Leehallfae feebly. "Here I'll die."



Maskull obeyed, and laid aer down at full length on the rocky ground.

The phaen raised aerself with difficulty on one arm, and stared with

fast-glazing eyes at the mystic landscape.



Maskull looked too, and what he saw was a vast, undulating plain,

lighted as if by the moon--but there was of course no moon, and there

were no shadows. He made out running streams in the distance. Beside

them were trees of a peculiar kind; they were rooted in the ground, but

the branches also were aerial roots, and there were no leaves. No other

plants could be seen. The soil was soft, porous rock, resembling pumice.

Beyond a mile or two in any direction the light merged into obscurity.

At their back a great rocky wall extended on either hand; but it was not

square like a wall, but full of bays and promontories like an indented

line of sea cliffs. The roof of this huge underworld was out of sight.

Here and there a mighty shaft of naked rock, fantastically weathered,

towered aloft into the gloom, doubtless serving to support the roof.

There were no colours--every detail of the landscape was black, white,

or grey. The scene appeared so still, so solemn and religious, that all

his feelings quieted down to absolute tranquillity.



Leehallfae fell back suddenly. Maskull dropped on his knees, and

helplessly watched the last flickerings of aer spirit, going out like a

candle in foul air. Death came.... He closed the eyes. The awful grin of

Crystalman immediately fastened upon the phaen's dead features.



While Maskull was still kneeling, he became conscious of someone

standing beside him. He looked up quickly and saw a man, but did not at

once rise.



"Another phaen dead," said the newcomer in a grave, toneless, and

intellectual voice.



Maskull got up.



The man was short and thickset but emaciated. His forehead was not

disfigured by any organs. He was middle-aged. The features were

energetic and rather coarse--yet it seemed to Maskull as though a pure,

hard life had done something toward refining them. His sanguine

eyes carried a twisted, puzzled look; some unanswerable problem was

apparently in the forefront of his brain. His face was hairless; the

hair of his head was short and manly; his brow was wide. He was clothed

in a black, sleeveless robe, and bore a long staff in his hand. There

was an air of cleanness and austerity about the whole man that was

attractive.



He went on speaking dispassionately to Maskull, and, while doing so,

kept passing his hand reflectively over his cheeks and chin. "They all

find their way here to die. They come from Matterplay. There they live

to an incredible age. Partly on that account, and partly because

of their spontaneous origin, they regard themselves as the favoured

children of Faceny. But when they come here to find him, they die at

once."



"I think this one is the last of the race. But whom do I speak to?"



"I am Corpang. Who are you, where do you come from, and what are you

doing here?"



"My name is Maskull. My home is on the other side of the universe. As

for what I am doing here--I accompanied Leehallfae, that phaen, from

Matterplay."



"But a man doesn't accompany a phaen out of friendship. What do you want

in Threal?"



"Then this is Threal?"



"Yes."



Maskull remained silent.



Corpang studied his face with rough, curious eyes. "Are you ignorant, or

merely reticent, Maskull?"



"I came here to ask questions, and not to answer them."



The stillness of the place was almost oppressive. Not a breeze stirred,

and not a sound came through the air. Their voices had been lowered, as

though they were in a cathedral.



"Then do you want my society, or not?" asked Corpang.



"Yes, if you can fit in with my mood, which is--not to talk about

myself."



"But you must at least tell me where you want to go to."



"I want to see what is to be seen here, and then go on to Lichstorm."



"I can guide you through, if that's all you want. Come, let us start."



"First let's do our duty and bury the dead, if possible."



"Turn around," directed Corpang.



Maskull looked around quickly. Leehallfae's body had disappeared.



"What does this mean--what has happened?"



"The body has returned to whence it came. There was nowhere here for it

to be, so it has vanished. No burial will be required."



"Was the phaen an illusion, then?"



"In no sense."



"Well, explain quickly, then, what has taken place. I seem to be going

mad."



"There's nothing unintelligible in it, if you'll only listen calmly. The

phaen belonged, body and soul, to the outside, visible world--to

Faceny. This underworld is not Faceny's world, but Thire's, and Faceny's

creatures cannot breathe its atmosphere. As this applies not only to

whole bodies, but even to the last particles of bodies, the phaen has

dissolved into Nothingness."



"But don't you and I belong to the outside world too?"



"We belong to all three worlds."



"What three worlds--what do you mean?"



"There are three worlds," said Corpang composedly. "The first is

Faceny's, the second is Amfuse's, the third is Thire's. From him Threal

gets it name."



"But this is mere nomenclature. In what sense are there three worlds?"



Corpang passed his hand over his forehead. "All this we can discuss as

we go along. It's a torment to me to be standing still."



Maskull stared again at the spot where Leehallfae's body had lain, quite

bewildered at the extraordinary disappearance. He could scarcely tear

himself away from the place, so mysterious was it. Not until Corpang

called to him a second time did he make up his mind to follow him.



They set off from the rock wall straight across the airlit plain,

directing their course toward the nearest trees. The subdued light, the

absence of shadows, the massive shafts, springing grey-white out of the

jetlike ground, the fantastic trees, the absence of a sky, the deathly

silence, the knowledge that he was underground--the combination of all

these things predisposed Maskull's mind to mysticism, and he prepared

himself with some anxiety to hear Corpang's explanation of the land and

its wonders. He already began to grasp that the reality of the outside

world and the reality of this world were two quite different things.



"In what sense are there three worlds?" he demanded, repeating his

former question.



Corpang smote the end of his staff on the ground. "First of all,

Maskull, what is your motive for asking? If it's mere intellectual

curiosity, tell me, for we mustn't play with awful matters."



"No, it isn't that," said Maskull slowly. "I'm not a student. My journey

is no holiday tour."



"Isn't there blood on your soul?" asked Corpang, eying him intently.



The blood rose steadily to Maskull's face, but in that light it caused

it to appear black.



"Unfortunately there is, and not a little."



The other's face was all wrinkles, but he made no comment.



"And so you see," went on Maskull, with a short laugh, "I'm in the very

best condition for receiving your instruction."



Corpang still paused. "Underneath your crimes I see a man," he said,

after a few minutes. "On that account, and because we are commanded to

help one another, I won't leave you at present, though I little thought

to be walking with a murderer.... Now to your question.... Whatever a

man sees with his eyes, Maskull, he sees in three ways--length, breadth,

depth. Length is existence, breadth is relation, depth is feeling."



"Something of the sort was told me by Earthrid, the musician, who came

from Threal."



"I don't know him. What else did he tell you?"



"He went on to apply it to music. Continue, and pardon the

interruption."



"These three states of perception are the three worlds. Existence is

Faceny's world, relation is Amfuse's world, feeling is Thire's world."



"Can't we come down to hard facts?" said Maskull, frowning. "I

understand no more than I did before what you mean by three worlds."



"There are no harder facts than the ones I am giving you. The first

world is visible, tangible Nature. It was created by Faceny out of

nothingness, and therefore we call it Existence."



"That I understand."



"The second world is Love--by which I don't mean lust. Without love,

every individual would be entirely self-centred and unable deliberately

to act on others. Without love, there would be no sympathy--not even

hatred, anger, or revenge would be possible. These are all imperfect and

distorted forms of pure love. Interpenetrating Faceny's world of Nature,

therefore, we have Amfuse's world of Love, or Relation."



"What grounds have you for assuming that this so-called second world is

not contained in the first?"



"They are contradictory. A natural man lives for himself; a lover lives

for others."



"It may be so. It's rather mystical. But go on--who is Thire?"



"Length and breadth together without depth give flatness. Life and love

without feeling produce shallow, superficial natures. Feeling is the

need of men to stretch out toward their creator."



"You mean prayer and worship?"



"I mean intimacy with Thire. This feeling is not to be found in either

the first or second world, therefore it is a third world. Just as depth

is the line between object and subject, feeling is the line between

Thire and man."



"But what is Thire himself?"



"Thire is the afterworld."



"I still don't understand," said Maskull. "Do you believe in three

separate gods, or are these merely three ways of regarding one God?"



"There are three gods, for they are mutually antagonistic. Yet they are

somehow united."



Maskull reflected a while. "How have you arrived at these conclusions?"



"None other are possible in Threal, Maskull."



"Why in Threal--what is there peculiar here?"



"I will show you presently."



They walked on for above a mile in silence, while Maskull digested what

had been said. When they came to the first trees, which grew along the

banks of a small stream of transparent water, Corpang halted.



"That bandage around your forehead has long been unnecessary," he

remarked.



Maskull removed it. He found that the line of his brow was smooth and

uninterrupted, as it had never yet been since his arrival in Tormance.



"How has this come about--and how did you know it?"



"They were Faceny's organs. They have vanished, just as the phaen's body

vanished."



Maskull kept rubbing his forehead. "I feel more human without them. But

why isn't the rest of my body affected?"



"Because its living will contains the element of Thire."



"Why are we stopping here?"



Corpang broke off the tip of one of the aerial roots of a tree, and

proffered it to him. "Eat this, Maskull."



"For food, or something else?"



"Food for body and soul."



Maskull bit into the root. It was white and hard; its white sap was

bleeding. It had no taste, but after eating it, he experienced a change

of perception. The landscape, without alteration of light or outline,

became several degrees more stern and sacred. When he looked at Corpang

he was impressed by his aspect of Gothic awfulness, but the perplexed

expression was still in his eyes.



"Do you spend all your time here, Corpang?"



"Occasionally I go above, but not often."



"What fastens you to this gloomy world?"



"The search for Thire."



"Then it's still a search?"



"Let us walk on."



As they resumed their journey across the dim, gradually rising plain,

the conversation became even more earnest in character than before.

"Although I was not born here," proceeded Corpang, "I've lived here for

twenty-five years, and during all that time I have been drawing nearer

to Thire, as I hope. But there is this peculiarity about it--the first

stages are richer in fruit and more promising than the later ones. The

longer a man seeks Thire, the more he seems to absent himself. In the

beginning he is felt and known, sometimes as a shape, sometimes as a

voice, sometimes an overpowering emotion. Later on all is dry, dark, and

harsh in the soul. Then you would think that Thire was a million miles

off."



"How do you explain that?"



"When everything is darkest, he may be nearest, Maskull."



"But this is troubling you?"



"My days are spent in torture."



"You still persist, though? This day darkness can't be the ultimate

state?"



"My questions will be answered."



A silence ensued.



"What do you propose to show me?" asked Maskull.



"The land is about to grow wilder. I am taking you to the Three Figures,

which were carved and erected by an earlier race of men. There, we will

pray."



"And what then?"



"If you are truehearted, you will see things you will not easily

forget."



They had been walking slightly uphill in a sort of trough between two

parallel, gently sloping downs. The trough now deepened, while the hills

on either side grew steeper. They were in an ascending valley and, as

it curved this way and that, the landscape was shut off from view.

They came to a little spring, bubbling up from the ground. It formed

a trickling brook, which was unlike all other brooks in that it was

flowing up the valley instead of down. Before long it was joined by

other miniature rivulets, so that in the end it became a fair-sized

stream. Maskull kept looking at it, and puckering his forehead.



"Nature has other laws here, it seems?"



"Nothing can exist here that is not a compound of the three worlds."



"Yet the water is flowing somewhere."



"I can't explain it, but there are three wills in it."



"Is there no such thing as pure Thire-matter?"



"Thire cannot exist without Amfuse, and Amfuse cannot exist without

Faceny."



Maskull thought this over for some minutes. "That must be so," he said

at last. "Without life there can be no love, and without love there can

be no religious feeling."



In the half light of the land, the tops of the hills containing the

valley presently attained such a height that they could not be seen. The

sides were steep and craggy, while the bed of the valley grew narrower

at every step. Not a living organism was visible. All was unnatural and

sepulchral.



Maskull said, "I feel as if I were dead, and walking in another world."



"I still do not know what you are doing here," answered Corpang.



"Why should I go on making a mystery of it? I came to find Surtur."



"That name I've heard--but under what circumstances?"



"You forget?"



Corpang walked along, his eyes fixed on the ground, obviously troubled.

"Who is Surtur?"



Maskull shook his head, and said nothing.



The valley shortly afterward narrowed, so that the two men, touching

fingertips in the middle, could have placed their free hands on the rock

walls on either side. It threatened to terminate in a cul-de-sac, but

just when the road seemed least promising, and they were shut in by

cliffs on all sides, a hitherto unperceived bend brought them suddenly

into the open. They emerged through a mere crack in the line of

precipices.



A sort of huge natural corridor was running along at right angles to the

way they had come; both ends faded into obscurity after a few hundred

yards. Right down the centre of this corridor ran a chasm with

perpendicular sides; its width varied from thirty to a hundred feet,

but its bottom could not be seen. On both sides of the chasm, facing one

another, were platforms of rock, twenty feet or so in width; they too

proceeded in both directions out of sight. Maskull and Corpang emerged

onto one of these platforms. The shelf opposite was a few feet higher

than that on which they stood. The platforms were backed by a double

line of lofty and unclimbable cliffs, whose tops were invisible.



The stream, which had accompanied them through the gap, went straight

forward, but, instead of descending the wall of the chasm as a

waterfall, it crossed from side to side like a liquid bridge. It then

disappeared through a cleft in the cliffs on the opposite side.



To Maskull's mind, however, even more wonderful than this unnatural

phenomenon was the absence of shadows, which was more noticeable here

than on the open plain. It made the place look like a hall of phantoms.



Corpang, without delay, led the way along the shelf to the left. When

they had walked about a mile, the gulf widened to two hundred feet.

Three large rocks loomed up on the ledge opposite; they resembled three

upright giants, standing motionless side by side on the extreme edge of

the chasm. Corpang and Maskull drew nearer, and then Maskull saw that

they were statues. Each was about thirty feet high, and the workmanship

was of the rudest. They represented naked men, but the limbs and

trunks had been barely chipped into shape--the faces alone had had care

bestowed on them, and even these faces were merely generalised. It was

obviously the work of primitive artists. The statues stood erect with

knees closed and arms hanging straight down their sides. All three were

exactly alike.



As soon as they were directly opposite, Corpang halted.



"Is this a representation of your three Beings?" asked Maskull, awed by

the spectacle in spite of his constitutional audacity.



"Ask no questions, but kneel," replied Corpang. He dropped onto his own

knees, but Maskull remained standing.



Corpang covered his eyes with one hand, and prayed silently. After a

few minutes the light sensibly faded. Then Maskull knelt as well, but he

continued looking.



It grew darker and darker, until all was like the blackest night. Sight

and sound no longer existed; he was alone with his own spirit.



Then one of the three Colossi came slowly into sight again. But it had

ceased to be a statue--it was a living person. Out of the blackness of

space a gigantic head and chest emerged, illuminated by a mystic, rosy

glow, like a mountain peak bathed by the rising sun. As the light grew

stronger Maskull saw that the flesh was translucent and that the glow

came from within. The limbs of the apparition were wreathed in mist.



Before long the features of the face stood out distinctly. It was that

of a beardless youth of twenty years. It possessed the beauty of a girl

and the daring force of a man; it bore a mocking, cryptic smile. Maskull

felt the fresh, mysterious thrill of mingled pain and rapture of one

who awakes from a deep sleep in midwinter and sees the gleaming, dark,

delicate colours of the half-dawn. The vision smiled, kept still, and

looked beyond him. He began to shudder, with delight--and many emotions.

As he gazed, his poetic sensibility acquired such a nervous and

indefinable character that he could endure it no more; he burst into

tears.



When he looked up again the image had nearly disappeared, and in a few

moments more he was plunged back into total darkness.



Shortly afterward a second statue reappeared. It too was transfigured

into a living form, but Maskull was unable to see the details of its

face and body, because of the brightness of the light that radiated from

them. This light, which started as pale gold, ended as flaming golden

fire. It illumined the whole underground landscape. The rock ledges,

the cliffs, himself and Corpang on their knees, the two unlighted

statues--all appeared as if in sunlight, and the shadows were black and

strongly defined. The light carried heat with it, but a singular heat.

Maskull was unaware of any rise in temperature, but he felt his heart

melting to womanish softness. His male arrogance and egotism faded

imperceptibly away; his personality seemed to disappear. What was left

behind was not freedom of spirit or lightheartedness, but a passionate

and nearly savage mental state of pity and distress. He felt a

tormenting desire to serve. All this came from the heat of the statue,

and was without an object. He glanced anxiously around him, and fastened

his eyes on Corpang. He put a hand on his shoulder and aroused him from

his praying.



"You must know what I am feeling, Corpang."



Corpang smiled sweetly, but said nothing.



"I care nothing for my own affairs any more. How can I help you?"



"So much the better for you, Maskull, if you respond so quickly to the

invisible worlds."



As soon as he had spoken, the figure began to vanish, and the light to

die away from the landscape. Maskull's emotion slowly subsided, but

it was not until he was once more in complete darkness that he became

master of himself again. Then he felt ashamed of his boyish exhibition

of enthusiasm, and thought ruefully that there must be something wanting

in his character. He got up onto his feet.



The very moment that he arose, a man's voice sounded, not a yard from

his ear. It was hardly raised above a whisper, but he could distinguish

that it was not Corpang's. As he listened he was unable to prevent

himself from physically trembling.



"Maskull, you are to die," said the unseen speaker.



"Who is speaking?"



"You have only a few hours of life left. Don't trifle the time away."



Maskull could bring nothing out.



"You have despised life," went on the low-toned voice. "Do you really

imagine that this mighty world has no meaning, and that life is a joke?"



"What must I do?"



"Repent your murders, commit no fresh ones, pay honour to..."



The voice died away. Maskull waited in silence for it to speak again.

All remained still, however, and the speaker appeared to have taken

his departure. Supernatural horror seized him; he fell into a sort of

catalepsy.



At that moment he saw one of the statues fading away, from a pale, white

glow to darkness. He had not previously seen it shining.



In a few more minutes the normal light of the land returned. Corpang got

up, and shook him out of his trance.



Maskull looked around, but saw no third person. "Whose statue was the

last?" he demanded.



"Did you hear me speaking?"



"I heard your voice, but no one else's."



"I've just had my death foretold, so I suppose I have not long to live.

Leehallfae prophesied the same thing."



Corpang shook his head. "What value do you set on life?" he asked.



"Very little. But it's a fearful thing all the same."



"Your death is?"



"No, but this warning."



They stopped talking. A profound silence reigned. Neither of the two men

seemed to know what to do next, or where to go. Then both of them heard

the sound of drumming. It was slow, emphatic, and impressive, a long way

off and not loud, but against the background of quietness, very marked.

It appeared to come from some point out of sight, to the left of where

they were standing, but on the same rock shelf. Maskull's heart beat

quickly.



"What can that sound be?" asked Corpang, peering into the obscurity.



"It is Surtur."



"Once again, who is Surtur?"



Maskull clutched his arm and pressed him to silence. A strange radiance

was in the air, in the direction of the drumming. It increased in

intensity and gradually occupied the whole scene. Things were no longer

seen by Thire's light, but by this new light. It cast no shadows.



Corpang's nostrils swelled, and he held himself more proudly. "What fire

is that?"



"It is Muspel-light."



They both glanced instinctively at the three statues. In the strange

glow they had undergone a change. The face of each figure was clothed in

the sordid and horrible Crystalman mask.



Corpang cried out and put his hand over his eyes. "What can this mean?"

he asked a minute later.



"It must mean that life is wrong, and the creator of life too, whether

he is one person or three."



Corpang looked again, like a man trying to accustom himself to a

shocking sight. "Dare we believe this?"



"You must," replied Maskull. "You have always served the highest, and

you must continue to do so. It has simply turned out that Thire is not

the highest."



Corpang's face became swollen with a kind of coarse anger. "Life is

clearly false--I have been seeking Thire for a lifetime, and now I

find--this."



"You have nothing to reproach yourself with. Crystalman has had eternity

to practice his cunning in, so it's no wonder if a man can't see

straight, even with the best intentions. What have you decided to do?"



"The drumming seems to be moving away. Will you follow it, Maskull?"



"Yes."



"But where will it take us?"



"Perhaps out of Threal altogether."



"It sounds to me more real than reality," said Corpang. "Tell me, who is

Surtur?"



"Surtur's world, or Muspel, we are told, is the original of which this

world is a distorted copy. Crystalman is life, but Surtur is other than

life."



"How do you know this?"



"It has sprung together somehow--from inspiration, from experience, from

conversation with the wise men of your planet. Every hour it grows truer

for me and takes a more definite shape."



Corpang stood up squarely, facing the three Figures with a harsh,

energetic countenance, stamped all over with resolution. "I believe

you, Maskull. No better proof is required than that. Thire is not the

highest; he is even in a certain sense the lowest. Nothing but the

thoroughly false and base could stoop to such deceits.... I am coming

with you--but don't play the traitor. These signs may be for you, and

not for me at all, and if you leave me--"



"I make no promises. I don't ask you to come with me. If you prefer to

stay in your little world, or if you have any doubts about it, you had

better not come."



"Don't talk like that. I shall never forget your service to me... Let us

make haste, or we shall lose the sound."



Corpang started off more eagerly than Maskull. They walked fast in the

direction of the drumming. For upward of two miles the path went along

the ledge without any change of level. The mysterious radiance gradually

departed, and was replaced by the normal light of Threal. The rhythmical

beats continued, but a very long way ahead--neither was able to diminish

the distance.



"What kind of man are you?" Corpang suddenly broke out.



"In what respect?"



"How do you come to be on such terms with the Invisible? How is it

that I've never had this experience before I met you, in spite of my

never-ending prayers and mortifications? In what way are you superior to

me?"



"To hear voices perhaps can't be made a profession," replied Maskull.

"I have a simple and unoccupied mind--that may be why I sometimes hear

things that up to the present you have not been able to."



Corpang darkened, and kept silent; and then Maskull saw through to his

pride.



The ledge presently began to rise. They were high above the platform

on the opposite side of the gulf. The road then curved sharply to

the right, and they passed over the abyss and the other ledge as by a

bridge, coming out upon the top of the opposite cliffs. A new line of

precipices immediately confronted them. They followed the drumming along

the base of these heights, but as they were passing the mouth of a

large cave the sound came from its recesses, and they turned their steps

inward.



"This leads to the outer world," remarked Corpang. "I've occasionally

been there by this passage."



"Then that's where it is taking us, no doubt. I confess I shan't be

sorry to see sunlight once more."



"Can you find time to think of sunlight?" asked Corpang with a rough

smile.



"I love the sun, and perhaps I'm rather lacking in the spirit of a

zealot."



"Yet, for all that, you may get there before me."



"Don't be bitter," said Maskull. "I'll tell you another thing. Muspel

can't be willed, for the simple reason that Muspel does not concern the

will. To will is a property of this world."



"Then what is your journey for?"



"It's one thing to walk to a destination, and to linger over the walk,

and quite another to run there at top speed."



"Perhaps I'm not so easily deceived as you think," said Corpang with

another smile.



The light persisted in the cave. The path narrowed and became a steep

ascent. Then the angle became one of forty-five degrees, and they had

to climb. The tunnel grew so confined that Maskull was reminded of the

confined dreams of his childhood.



Not long afterward, daylight appeared. They hastened to complete the

last stage. Maskull rushed out first into the world of colours and,

all dirty and bleeding from numerous scratches, stood blinking on a

hillside, bathed in the brilliant late-afternoon sunshine. Corpang

followed closely at his heels, He was obliged to shield his eyes with

his hands for a few minutes, so unaccustomed was he to Branchspell's

blinding rays.



"The drum beats have stopped!" he exclaimed suddenly.



"You can't expect music all the time," answered Maskull dryly. "We

mustn't be luxurious."



"But now we have no guide. We're no better off than before."



"Well, Tormance is a big place. But I have an infallible rule, Corpang.

As I come from the south, I always go due north."



"That will take us to Lichstorm."



Maskull gazed at the fantastically piled rocks all around them. "I saw

these rocks from Matterplay. The mountains look as far off now as they

did them, and there's not much of the day left. How far is Lichstorm

from here?"



Corpang looked away to the distant range. "I don't know, but unless a

miracle happens we shan't get there tonight."



"I have a feeling," said Maskull, "that we shall not only get there

tonight, but that tonight will be the most important in my life."



And he sat down passively to rest.