also--therefore soon must end. Now
upon the other hand--"

"How now? What babbling folly is here?"

"As I say, most potent lord, upon the other hand--as the mind, being
altogether thing transcendental, is also thing incorruptible, so is it
also a thing infinite, and being a thing infinite so are its sensations
infinite also--therefore everlasting."

"Ha, there's reason in thy folly, methinks. What more?"

"Bethink thee, lord, there be divers rogues who, having provoked thy
potent anger, do lie even now awaiting thy lordly pleasure. E'en now
irons be heating for them, moreover they are, by thy will, to suffer
the grievous torment of the pulleys and the wheel, and these, as I do
know, be sharp punishments and apt to cause prodigious outcry. Now, to
hear one cry out beneath the torture is an evil thing for youthful
ears--and one not soon forgot."

"Aye, aye, forsooth, I begin to see thy meaning, good Fool--yet say
on."

"Let this thy prisoner be set within the cell above the torture
chamber, so, lying within the dark he must needs hear them cry below,
and in his mind shall he suffer as they suffer, every pang of racking
wheel and searing iron. And, because the mind is thing infinite--"

"Enough--enough! O most excellent Beda, 'tis well bethought. O, rare
Fool, so shall it be."

Forthwith Sir Pertolepe summoned certain of his guard, and,
incontinent, Beltane was dragged a-down the winding stair and
thereafter fast shut within a place of gloom, a narrow cell breathing
an air close and heavy, and void of all light. Therefore Beltane sat
him down on the floor, his back to the wall, staring upon the dark,
chin on fist. Long he sat thus, stirring not, and in his heart a black
void, deeper and more awful than the fetid gloom of any dungeon--a void
wherein a new Beltane came into being.

Now presently, as he sat thus, upon the silence stole a sound, low and
murmurous, that rose and fell yet never quite died away. And Beltane,
knowing what sound this was, clenched his hands and bowed his face upon
his knees. As he listened, this drone grew to a sudden squealing cry
that rang and echoed from wall to wall, whiles Beltane, crouched in
that place of horror, felt the sweat start out upon him, yet shivered
as with deadly cold, and ever the cries thrilled within the dark or
sank to whimpering moans and stifled supplications. And ever Beltane
hearkened to these fell sounds, staring blindly into the gloom, and
ever the new Belt