his remark. After waiting for a few minutes,
to hear if she would speak again, he turned his back on her once more.
There was no more talk until they reached the island.

The air had grown chill and damp by the time they approached its shores.
Branchspell was on the point of touching the sea. The Island appeared
to be some three or four miles in length. There were first of all
broad sands, then low, dark cliffs, and behind these a wilderness
of insignificant, swelling hills, entirely devoid of vegetation. The
current bore them to within a hundred yards of the coast, when it made a
sharp angle, and proceeded to skirt the length of the land.

Gleameil jumped overboard, and began swimming to shore. Maskull followed
her example, and the raft, abandoned, was rapidly borne away by the
current. They soon touched ground, and were able to wade the rest of the
way. By the time they reached dry land, the sun had set.

Gleameil made straight for the hills; and Maskull, after casting a
single glance at the low, dim outline of the Wombflash Forest, followed
her. The cliffs were soon scrambled up. Then the ascent was gentle and
easy, while the rich, dry, brown mould was good to walk upon.

A little way off, on their left, something white was shining.

"You need not go to it," said the woman. "It can be nothing else than
one of those skeletons Polecrab talked about. And look--there is another
one over there!"

"This brings it home!" remarked Maskull, smiling.

"There is nothing comical in having died for beauty," said Gleameil,
bending her brows at him.

And when in the course of their walk he saw the innumerable human bones,
from gleaming white to dirty yellow, lying scattered about, as if it
were a naked graveyard among the hills, he agreed with her, and fell
into a sombre mood.

It was still light when they reached the highest point, and could set
eyes on the other side. The sea to the north of the island was in no way
different from that which they had crossed, but its lively colors were
fast becoming invisible.

"That is Matterplay," said the woman, pointing her finger toward some
low land on the horizon, which seemed to be even farther off than
Wombflash.

"I wonder how Digrung passed over," meditated Maskull.

Not far away, in a hollow enclosed by a circle of little hills, they
saw a small, circular lake, not more than half a mile in diameter. The
sunset colors of the sky were reflected in its waters.

"That must