im in a steady, unbroken stream, but in
great, rough gushes, succeeding intervals of quiescence. When these
gushes came, the whole lake broke out in an eruption of spouts.

He realised that the ideas passing from him did not arise in his
intellect, but had their source in the fathomless depths of his will.
He could not decide what character they should have, but he was able to
force them out, or retard them, by the exercise of his volition.

At first nothing changed around him. Then the moon grew dimmer, and a
strange, new radiance began to illuminate the landscape. It increased
so imperceptibly that it was some time before he recognised it as the
Muspel-light which he had seen in the Wombflash Forest. He could not
give it a colour, or a name, but it filled him with a sort of stern and
sacred awe. He called up the resources of his powerful will. The
spouts thickened like a forest, and many of them were twenty feet high.
Teargeld looked faint and pale; the radiance became intense; but it cast
no shadows. The wind got up, but where Maskull was sitting, it was calm.
Shortly afterward it began to shriek and whistle, like a full gale. He
saw no shapes, and redoubled his efforts.

His ideas were now rushing out onto the lake so furiously that his whole
soul was possessed by exhilaration and defiance. But still he did not
know their nature. A huge spout shot up and at the same moment the hills
began to crack and break. Great masses of loose soil were erupted from
their bowels, and in the next period of quietness, he saw that the
landscape had altered. Still the mysterious light intensified. The moon
disappeared entirely. The noise of the unseen tempest was terrifying,
but Maskull played heroically on, trying to urge out ideas which would
take shape. The hillsides were cleft with chasms. The water escaping
from the tops of the spouts, swamped the land; but where he was, it was
dry.

The radiance grew terrible. It was everywhere, but Maskull fancied that
it was far brighter in one particular quarter. He thought that it was
becoming localised, preparatory to contracting into a solid form. He
strained and strained....

Immediately afterward the bottom of the lake subsided. Its waters fell
through, and his instrument was broken.

The Muspel-light vanished. The moon shone out again, but Maskull could
not see it. After that unearthly shining, he seemed to himself to be in
total blackness. The screaming wind ceased; there was a