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"Thanks, Joiwind!" said Maskull simply. The colors chased each other rapidly beneath her skin. "Oh, why do you say that? What pleasure is greater than loving-kindness? I rejoiced at the opportunity.... But now we must exchange blood." "What is this?" he demanded, rather puzzled. "It must be so. Your blood is far too thick and heavy for our world.
Beneath its coating of mud, her face bore the vulgar, ghastly Crystalman grin, but Maskull saw nothing of it. She had never appeared so beautiful to him as at that moment. He remained beside her for a long time, on his knees. He wept but, between his fits of weeping, he raised his head from time to time, and listened to the distant drum beats. An hour passed two hours.
"I shall not forget," said Corpang. Maskull gazed down at the boat. "Are we to get in?" "Gently, my friend. It's only canework and skin." "First of all, you might enlighten me as to how you have contrived to dispense with the laws of gravitation." Haunte smiled sarcastically. "A secret in your ear, Maskull. All laws are female. A true male is an outlaw outside the law." "I don't understand."
The room, which was a kitchen, was in an indescribably filthy and neglected condition. The furniture scarcely held together, broken utensils and rubbish lay on the floor instead of on the dust heap, everything was covered with a deep deposit of dust. The atmosphere was so foul that Maskull judged that no fresh air had passed into the room for several months. Insects were crawling on the walls.
Maskull had no opportunity of examining through the crystal walls the rapidly changing panorama of the heavens. An extreme drowsiness oppressed him. He opened his eyes violently a dozen times, but on the thirteenth attempt he failed. From that time forward he slept heavily. The bored, hungry expression never left Nightspore's face.
I am about to produce the phenomenon; if anyone can explain it to me afterward, I shall be very grateful.... That is all I have to say." He resumed his seat, half turning his back on the assembly, and paused for a moment before beginning his task. It was precisely at this minute that the manservant opened the door and announced in a subdued but distinct voice: "Mr. Maskull, Mr. Nightspore."
The naked blood alone was visible, flowing this way and that like a fiery, liquid skeleton, in the shape of the monster. Then this blood began to change too. Instead of a continuous liquid stream, Maskull perceived that it was composed of a million individual points.
He tossed off the draught, and then felt much better. The second cupful he proffered to Corpang. The latter took a single sip, swallowed it, and then passed the cup back without a word. He refused to drink again, as long as they were in the cave. Maskull finished the cup, and began to throw off care.
The boy shrieked and ran behind the couch, trying to get away.... His opposition suddenly collapsed. Maskull stumbled forward, recovered himself, and then vaulted clear over the high pile of mosses, to get at his antagonist. He fell on top of him with all his bulk. Grasping his throat, he pulled his little head completely around, so that the neck was broken. Crimtyphon immediately died.
The awful harmonies of the music followed hard one upon another, like the waves of a wild, magic ocean.... His body was incapable of enduring such shocks, and all of a sudden he tumbled over in a faint that resembled death. The morning slowly passed. Maskull made some convulsive movements, and opened his eyes. He sat up, blinking. All was night-like and silent in the forest.
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