; and
afterwards the winter, that master-builder, would return as a king
from his exile. But no one thought of such catastrophe to-night. For
the moment it seemed that the reign of tyranny was ended and the
millennium had begun--chaos, which men mistake for millennium.

Granger stood above the bank repeating to himself over and over, "The
ice is going out! The ice is going out!" as if it were a fact
incredible. Every moment the air vibrated with a roar, and the earth
was shaken as some new horseman of the ice was overthrown and hurried
by in flight, only to halt presently, ranged side by side with some of
his fellows, to make yet another stand. Certainly it was a battle
which was being fought, and one which must be lost.

As far as sound could travel, from the west and from the north, he
could hear the cannonade, and what seemed like the clatter of hoofs,
and the clash of thrown-away swords. It was possible to imagine
anything when Nature was making a change so titanic. Now the water was
the black horse of Revelation, with a sable rider on his back who
carried "a balance in his hand,"--and he was in pursuit. And the ice
was the pale horse, and he that sat upon him, his name was Death, and
Hades followed with him,--and he was in flight. And now, when some
great floe jammed in its passage round the Point, and the ice piled
up, it became for Granger a magician's silver palace in Aragon, which
a dark-mailed knight of Christendom had travelled leagues to demolish.
Outside it shone resplendent and crystal in the starlight; but within
it was full of uncleanness, and by day it would vanish.

He amused himself with these fancies, and followed them to their
furthest length. He could see the faces of the beleaguered, now evil
with terror, peering out from the casements, and the stern old
enchanter in the turret, over whose ledges flowed down his snow-white
beard. He could hear the hoarse-throated clamour of the knight as he
led his company about the walls, and rammed in the castle's gateway,
shouting, "For Christ! For Christ!" The structure trembled and the
turret commenced to wave in the air, as it had been a banner. The
sorcerer looked out, his eyes were filled with dismay--he could not
withstand that name of 'Christ'; he plunged from the height, spreading
abroad his arms, and was lost in the blackness of the underground. The
dark host swept over the palace still shouting, "For Christ! For
Christ!" In the twinkling of an eye,