an and horse seemed to be the only living things between the
horizons. From his point of vantage he looked out over the dim,
limitless marshes, north, south and west, and although the growing
darkness rendered the few features of the landscape even less
distinguishable than usual, his practiced eye passed from point to point
readily, for the flat map before him had been etched in upon his memory
by the slow-graving stylus of use.

The night promised to be clear and starlit, for the tsa had risen to a
gale, and a sudden frost succeeding the thaw had already thrust its iron
fingers deep into the land. The cold was intense, and a raw wind, that
had blown across a continent and a sea, came down obliquely upon
Rallywood through a dip in the mountains. On one side the lines of the
railway track ran up a curving incline into the Kofn Hills, where, five
miles away at the bleak Frontier station, officials, imposingly
uniformed, parade the platforms, examine the baggage, and demand
passports in a manner calculated to impress the traveller with an idea
of the immense resources of the State of Maasau. That is one part of
their duties. The other is slavish obedience. 'Do what you are ordered,
and the result will look after itself.' Such is the creed. The first
lesson taught them is that they must not hesitate, and they learn it
thoroughly. Westwards the line slipped away into the sweep of low ground
towards Alfau, the first stoppage on the way to Revonde.

Rallywood drew his riding-cloak around him and settled down squarely
into the saddle. The desolate plains with the crying wind held the
loneliness of the damned. Occasionally a wolf howled in the distance, or
a wandering snipe cried as it lost itself among the stiffening reeds
about the swampy levels, and through all he could hear the hoarse roar
of the Kofn in flood, as it rushed down from its rocky bed, swollen with
the melted snows of yesterday. Another interval passed while the gray
outlook changed to black. Then a red light appeared as it were over the
edge of the world. Its coming afforded a certain break in the naked
whimpering solitude of the plain.

Slowly it crept down the incline, for the engines of Maasau, like
Belgian pistols, are not made for rough usage. Rallywood rode forward to
meet it, the tufts of grass crackling under his horse's feet. But
instead of slackening pace the chain of lighted carriages swept past
him, and, gathering speed, wound away into the desol