ened?"

"I passed through torture to love," replied Maskull simply.

He stood up. Haunte gazed at him sombrely. "Will you not describe that
passage?"

Maskull answered slowly and thoughtfully. "When I was in Matterplay,
I saw heavy clouds discharge themselves and change to coloured, living
animals. In the same way, my black, chaotic pangs just now seemed to
consolidate themselves and spring together as a new sort of joy. The joy
would not have been possible without the preliminary nightmare. It is
not accidental; Nature intends it so. The truth has just flashed through
my brain.... You men of Lichstorm don't go far enough. You stop at the
pangs, Without realising that they are birth pangs."

"If this is true, you are a great pioneer," muttered Haunte.

"How does this sensation differ from common love?" interrogated Corpang.

"This was all that love is, multiplied by wildness."

Corpang fingered his chin awhile. "The Lichstorm men, however, will
never reach this stage, for they are too masculine."

Haunte turned pale. "Why should we alone suffer?"

"Nature is freakish and cruel, and doesn't act according to justice....
Follow us, Haunte, and escape from it all."

"I'll see," muttered Haunte. "Perhaps I will."

"Have we far to go, to Sullenbode?" inquired Maskull.

"No, her home's under the hanging cap of Sarclash."

"What is to happen tonight?" Maskull spoke to himself, but Haunte
answered him.

"Don't expect anything pleasant, in spite of what has just occurred. She
is not a woman, but a mass of pure sex. Your passion will draw her out
into human shape, but only for a moment. If the change were permanent,
you would have endowed her with a soul."

"Perhaps the change might be made permanent."

"To do that, it is not enough to desire her; she must desire you as
well. But why should she desire you?"

"Nothing turns out as one expects," said Maskull, shaking his head. "We
had better get on again."

They resumed the journey. The ledge still rose, but, on turning a corner
of the cliff, Haunte quitted it and began to climb a steep gully, which
mounted directly to the upper heights. Here they were compelled to use
both hands and feet. Maskull thought all the while of nothing but the
overwhelming sweetness he had just experienced.

The flat ground on top was dry and springy. There was no more snow, and
bright plants appeared. Haunte turned sharply to the left.

"This must be under the cap," said Maskull.