e later on, in a narrow copse crowning a miniature,
insulated peak, they fell in with a man. He was resting himself against
a tree, and looked tired, overheated, and despondent. He was young. His
beardless expression bore an expression of unusual sincerity, and in
other respects he seemed a hardy, hardworking youth, of an intellectual
type. His hair was thick, short, and flaxen. He possessed neither a
sorb nor a third arm--so presumably he was not a native of Ifdawn.
His forehead, however, was disfigured by what looked like a haphazard
assortment of eyes, eight in number, of different sizes and shapes.
They went in pairs, and whenever two were in use, it was indicated by
a peculiar shining--the rest remained dull, until their turn came. In
addition to the upper eyes he had the two lower ones, but they were
vacant and lifeless. This extraordinary battery of eyes, alternatively
alive and dead, gave the young man an appearance of almost alarming
mental activity. He was wearing nothing but a sort of skin kilt. Maskull
seemed somehow to recognise the face, though he had certainly never set
eyes on it before.

Tydomin suggested to him to set down the corpse, and both sat down to
rest in the shade.

"Question him, Maskull," she said, rather carelessly, jerking her head
toward the stranger.

Maskull sighed and asked aloud, from his seat on the ground, "What's
your name, and where do you come from?"

The man studied him for a few moments, first with one pair of eyes,
then with another, then with a third. He next turned his attention to
Tydomin, who occupied him a still longer time. He replied at last, in
a dry, manly, nervous voice. "I am Digrung. I have arrived here from
Matterplay." His colour kept changing, and Maskull suddenly realised of
whom he reminded him. It was of Joiwind.

"Perhaps you're going to Poolingdred, Digrung?" he inquired, interested.

"As a matter of fact I am--if I can find my way out of this accursed
country."

"Possibly you are acquainted with Joiwind there?"

"She's my sister. I'm on my way to see her now. Why, do you know her?"

"I met her yesterday."

"What is your name, then?"

"Maskull."

"I shall tell her I met you. This will be our first meeting for four
years. Is she well, and happy?"

"Both, as far as I could judge. You know Panawe?"

"Her husband--yes. But where do you come from? I've seen nothing like
you before."

"From another world. Where is Matterplay?"

"It's the fir