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Updated: June 29, 2025
I took out also a small spectroscope, and a few other instruments for the analysis of certain light manifestations and the testing of metal and liquid. Finally, I put aside my emergency medical kit. I had hardly finished examining and adjusting these before O'Keefe and Huldricksson returned.
"I think we ought to take a look around," I replied in the same low tones. "We'll climb the wall here and take a flash about. The whole place ought to be plain as day from that height." Huldricksson, his blue eyes alert, nodded. With the greatest difficulty we clambered up the broken blocks.
"We go first to Ponape and from there to Metalanim Harbour to the Nan-Matal. You know the place?" Huldricksson bowed a white gleam as of ice showing in his blue eyes. "It is there?" he asked. "It is there that we must first search," I answered. "Good!" said Olaf Huldricksson. "It is good!"
"But if you could have seen yourself solemnly disclaiming the banshee" another twinkle showed in his eyes "and then with all this sunshine and this wide-open world" he shrugged his shoulders "it's hard to visualize anything such as you and Huldricksson have described." "I know how hard it is, Larry," I answered.
At the end he screamed horribly. There was a cracking sound, as of a stout stick snapped. Huldricksson stooped, silently. He picked up the limp body of the Voice, not yet dead, for the eyes rolled, the lips strove to speak; lifted it, walked to the parapet, swung it twice over his head, and cast it down to the red waters! The Coming of the Shining One The Norseman turned toward us.
I raised the glass again; his face sprang into the lens and never have I seen a visage lined and marked as though by ages of unsleeping misery as was that of Olaf Huldricksson! The Tonga boys had the boat alongside and were waiting at the oars. The little captain was dropping into it. "Wait!" I cried. I ran into my cabin, grasped my emergency medical kit and climbed down the rope ladder.
And at one bound he broke through the leashes I had buckled round him and faced us, his eyes glaring, his yellow hair almost erect with the force of the rage visibly surging through him. Da Costa shrunk behind me. O'Keefe, coolly watchful, took a quick step that brought him in front of me. "Where do you take me?" said Huldricksson, and his voice was like the growl of a beast. "Where is my boat?"
Took my Helma and my little Freda! The sparkling devil came down from the moon and took them!" He swayed; tears dripped down his cheeks. Da Costa moved toward him again and again Huldricksson watched him, alertly, wickedly, from his bloodshot eyes. I took a hypodermic from my case and filled it with morphine. I drew Da Costa to me. "Get to the side of him," I whispered, "talk to him."
Before me stood O'Keefe and a dozen feet in front of him, Huldricksson, with something clasped tightly in his arms. The Norseman's feet were at the verge of a shining, silvery lip of stone within whose oval lay a blue pool.
Half laughing, half irritated, and wholly happy in even the part promise of Larry O'Keefe's comradeship on my venture, I arranged a couple of pillows, stretched myself out on two chairs and took up my vigil beside Olaf Huldricksson. When I awakened the sun was streaming through the cabin porthole. Outside a fresh voice lilted. I lay on my two chairs and listened.
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