needn't look so important. We know you had your ear to the keyhole.
But you could join the assembly, the music was not playing for you, my
friend."

Maskull smiled rather bitterly. "At all events, I listen through no more
keyholes. I have finished with life. I belong to nobody and nothing any
more, from this time forward."

"Brave Words, brave words! We shall see. Perhaps Crystalman will make
one more attempt on you. There is still time for one more."

"Now I don't understand you."

"You think you are thoroughly disillusioned, don't you? Well, that may
prove to be the last and strongest illusion of all."

The conversation ceased. They reached the foot of the landslip an hour
later. Branchspell was steadily mounting the cloudless sky. It was
approaching Sarclash, and it was an open question whether or not it
would clear its peak. The heat was sweltering. The long, massive,
saucer-shaped ridge behind them, with its terrific precipices, was
glowing with bright morning colours. Adage, towering up many thousands
of feet higher still, guarded the end of it like a lonely Colossus. In
front of them, starting from where they stood, was a cool and enchanting
wilderness of little lakes and forests. The water of the lakes was dark
green; the forests were asleep, waiting for the rising of Alppain.

"Are we now in Barey?" asked Maskull.

"Yes--and there is one of the natives."

There was an ugly glint in his eye as he spoke the words, but Maskull
did not see it.

A man was leaning in the shade against one of the first trees,
apparently waiting for them to come up. He was small, dark, and
beardless, and was still in early manhood. He was clothed in a dark
blue, loosely flowing robe, and wore a broad-brimmed slouch hat. His
face, which was not disfigured by any special organs, was pale, earnest,
and grave, yet somehow remarkably pleasing.

Before a word was spoken, he warmly grasped Maskull's hand, but even
while he was in the act of doing so he threw a queer frown at Krag. The
latter responded with a scowling grin.

When he opened his mouth to speak, his voice was a vibrating baritone,
but it was at the same time strangely womanish in its modulations and
variety of tone.

"I've been waiting for you here since sunrise," he said. "Welcome
to Barey, Maskull! Let's hope you'll forget your sorrows here, you
over-tested man."

Maskull stared at him, not without friendliness. "What made you expect
me, and how do you know my