the "host of Heaven," and I
was no stern Israelitish prophet to prevail against them.

I must have lain for hours waiting in that spectral place, my eyes
riveted on the tower and its golden cap of moonshine. I remember that
my head felt void and light, as if my spirit were becoming disembodied
and leaving its dew-drenched sheath far below. But the most curious
sensation was of something drawing me to the tower, something mild and
kindly and rather feeble, for there was some other and stronger force
keeping me back. I yearned to move nearer, but I could not drag my
limbs an inch. There was a spell somewhere which I could not break. I
do not think I was in any way frightened now. The starry influence was
playing tricks with me, but my mind was half asleep. Only I never took
my eyes from the little tower. I think I could not, if I had wanted to.

Then suddenly from the shadows came Lawson. He was stark-naked, and he
wore, bound across his brow, the half-moon of alabaster. He had
something, too, in his hand,--something which glittered.

He ran round the tower, crooning to himself, and flinging wild arms to
the skies. Sometimes the crooning changed to a shrill cry of passion,
such as a manad may have uttered in the train of Bacchus. I could make
out no words, but the sound told its own tale. He was absorbed in some
infernal ecstasy. And as he ran, he drew his right hand across his
breast and arms, and I saw that it held a knife.

I grew sick with disgust,--not terror, but honest physical loathing.
Lawson, gashing his fat body, affected me with an overpowering
repugnance. I wanted to go forward and stop him, and I wanted, too, to
be a hundred miles away. And the result was that I stayed still. I
believe my own will held me there, but I doubt if in any case I could
have moved my legs.

The dance grew swifter and fiercer. I saw the blood dripping from
Lawson's body, and his face ghastly white above his scarred breast.
And then suddenly the horror left me; my head swam; and for one
second--one brief second--I seemed to peer into a new world. A strange
passion surged up in my heart. I seemed to see the earth peopled with
forms not human, scarcely divine, but more desirable than man or god.
The calm face of Nature broke up for me into wrinkles of wild
knowledge. I saw the things which brush against the soul in dreams,
and found them lovely. There seemed no cruelty in the knife or the
blood. It was a del