grassy hill went right across the ridge from
side to side, like a vast billow on the verge of breaking. It shut out
all further view beyond. The whole crest of this hill, from one end to
the other, was crowned by a long row of enormous stone posts, shining
brightly in the moonlight against a background of dark sky. There were
about thirty in all, and they were placed at such regular intervals that
there was little doubt that they had been set there by human hands. Some
were perpendicular, but others dipped so much that an aspect of extreme
antiquity was given to the entire colonnade. Corpang was seen climbing
the hill, not far from the top.

"He wishes to arrive," said Maskull, watching the energetic ascent with
a rather cynical smile.

"The heavens won't open for Corpang," returned Sullenbode. "He need not
be in such a hurry.... What do these pillars seem like to you?"

"They might be the entrance to some mighty temple. Who can have planted
them there?"

She did not answer. They watched Corpang gain the summit of the hill,
and disappear through the line of posts.

Maskull turned again to Sullenbode. "Now we two are alone in a lonely
world."

She regarded him steadily. "Our last night on this earth must be a grand
one. I am ready to go on."

"I don't think you are fit to go on. It will be better to go down the
pass a little, and find shelter."

She half smiled. "We won't study our poor bodies tonight. I mean you to
go to Adage, Maskull."

"Then at all events let us rest first, for it must be a long, terrible
climb, and who knows what hardships we shall meet?"

She walked a step or two forward, half turned, and held out her hand to
him. "Come, Maskull!"

When they had covered half the distance that separated them from the
foot of the hill, Maskull heard the drum taps. They came from behind the
hill, and were loud, sharp, almost explosive. He glanced at Sullenbode,
but she appeared to hear nothing. A minute later the whole sky behind
and above the long chain of stone posts on the crest of the hill began
to be illuminated by a strange radiance. The moonlight in that quarter
faded; the posts stood out black on a background of fire. It was the
light of Muspel. As the moments passed, it grew more and more vivid,
peculiar, and awful. It was of no colour, and resembled nothing--it was
supernatural and indescribable. Maskull's spirit swelled. He stood fast,
with expanded nostrils and terrible eyes.

Sullenbode t