h my different feelings. I must take what precautions I
can, and chance the rest." He bent down, and, taking hold of the phaen's
thin and ragged robe, tore off a broad strip, which he proceeded to
swathe in folds around his forehead. "I'm not forgetting your advice,
Leehallfae. I would not like to start the walk as Maskull and finish it
as Digrung."

The phaen gave a twisted grin, and they began to move upstream. The road
was difficult. They had to stride from boulder to boulder, and found it
warm work. Occasionally a worse obstacle presented itself, which they
could surmount only by climbing. There was no more conversation for a
long time. Maskull, as far as possible, adopted his companion's counsel
to avoid the water, but here and there he was forced to set foot in it.
The second or third time he did so, he felt a sudden agony in his arm,
where it had been wounded by Krag. His eyes grew joyful; his fears
vanished; and he began deliberately to tread the stream.

Leehallfae stroked aer chin and watched him with screwed-up eyes, trying
to comprehend what had happened. "Is your luck speaking to you, Maskull,
or what is the matter?"

"Listen. You are a being of antique experience, and ought to know, if
anyone does. What is Muspel?"

The phaen's face was blank. "I don't know the name."

"It is another world of some sort."

"That cannot be. There is only this one world--Faceny's."

Maskull came up to aer, linked arms, and began to talk. "I'm glad I fell
in with you, Leehallfae, for this valley and everything connected with
it need a lot of explaining. For example, in this spot there are hardly
any organic forms left--why have they all disappeared? You call this
brook a 'life stream,' yet the nearer its source we get, the less
life it produces. A mile or two lower down we had those spontaneous
plant-animals appearing out of nowhere, while right down by the sea,
plants and animals were tumbling over one another. Now, if all this is
connected in some mysterious way or other with your Faceny, it seems
to me he must have a most paradoxical nature. His essence doesn't start
creating shapes until it has become thoroughly weakened and watered....
But perhaps both of us are talking nonsense."

Leehallfae shook aer head. "Everything hangs together. The stream is
life, and it is throwing off sparks of life all the time. When these
sparks are caught and imprisoned by matter, they become living shapes.
The nearer the stream is t