," replied Maskull, "but I fear the result."

"Permit me, although I am only a woman, to take his place, Catice," said
Tydomin, stretching out her hand.

He struck at it violently with the flint, and gashed it from wrist to
thumb; the pale carmine blood spouted up. "What brings this kiss-lover
to Sant?" he said. "How does she presume to make the rules of life for
the sons of Hator?"

She bit her lip, and stepped back. "Well then, Maskull, accept! I
certainly should not have played false to Spadevil; but you hardly can."

"If he bids me, I must do it," said Maskull. "But who knows what will
come of it?"

Spadevil spoke. "Of all the descendants of Hator, Catice is the most
wholehearted and sincere. He will trample my truth underfoot, thinking
me a demon sent by Shaping, to destroy the work of this land. But a seed
will escape, and my blood and yours, Tydomin, will wash it. Then men
will know that my destroying evil is their greatest good. But none here
will live to see that."

Maskull now went quite close to Catice, and offered his head. Catice
raised his hand, and after holding the flint poised for a moment,
brought it down with adroitness and force upon the left-hand probe.
Maskull cried out with the pain. The blood streamed down, and the
function of the organ was destroyed.

There was a pause, while he walked to and fro, trying to staunch the
blood.

"What now do you feel, Maskull? What do you see?" inquired Tydomin
anxiously.

He stopped, and stared hard at her. "I now see straight," he said
slowly.

"What does that mean?"

He continued to wipe the blood from his forehead. He looked troubled.
"Henceforward, as long as I live, I shall fight with my nature, and
refuse to feel pleasure. And I advise you to do the same."

Spadevil gazed at him sternly. "Do you renounce my teaching?"

Maskull, however, returned the gaze without dismay. Spadevil's
image-like clearness of form had departed for him; his frowning face he
knew to be the deceptive portico of a weak and confused intellect.

"It is false."

"Is it false to sacrifice oneself for another?" demanded Tydomin.

"I can't argue as yet," said Maskull. "At this moment the world with
its sweetness seems to me a sort of charnel house. I feel a loathing for
everything in it, including myself. I know no more."

"Is there no duty?" asked Spadevil, in a harsh tone.

"It appears to me but a cloak under which we share the pleasure of other
people."

Tydom