nd behold! the side of the
black cliff plain and smooth and shining as if it had been done by the
hand of men or giants, and on this smooth space was carven in the
living rock the image of a warrior in mail and helm of ancient fashion,
and holding a sword in his right hand. From head to heel he seemed
some sixty feet high, and the rock was so hard, that he was all clean
and clear to see; and they deemed of him that his face was keen and
stern of aspect.

So there they stood in an awful bight of the mountain, made by that
ness, and the main wall from which it thrust out. But after they had
gazed awhile and their hearts were in their mouths, the Sage turned on
those twain and said: "Here then is the end of my journey with you; and
ye wot all that I can tell you, and I can say no word more save to bid
you cast all fear aside and thrive. Ye have yet for this day's journey
certain hours of such daylight as the mountain pass will give you,
which at the best is little better than twilight; therefore redeem ye
the time."

But Ralph got off his horse, and Ursula did in likewise, and they both
kissed and embraced the old man, for their hearts were full and fain.
But he drew himself away from them, and turned about with no word more,
and went his ways, and presently was hidden from their eyes by the
rocky maze which lay about the mountain's foot. Then the twain mounted
their horses again and set forth silently on the road, as they had been
bidden.

In a little while the rocks of the pass closed about them, leaving but
a way so narrow that they could see a glimmer of the stars above them
as they rode the twilight; no sight they had of the measureless stony
desert, yet in their hearts they saw it. They seemed to be wending a
straight-walled prison without an end, so that they were glad when the
dark night came on them.

Ralph found some shelter in the cleft of a rock above a mound where was
little grass for the horses. He drew Ursula into it, and they sat down
there on the stones together. So long they sat silent that a great
gloom settled upon Ralph, and he scarce knew whether he were asleep or
waking, alive or dead. But amidst of it fell a sweet voice on his
ears, and familiar words asking him of what like were the fields of
Upmeads, and the flowers; and of the fish of its water, and of the
fashion of the building of his father's house; and of his brethren, and
the mother that bore him. Then was it to him at first as