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Blisters formed on their skin, while all the water in their blood seemed to dry up. Maskull forgot his own tortures in his devil's delight at Tydomin's. "Sing me a song!" he called out presently. "A characteristic one." She turned her head and gave him a long, peculiar look; then, without any sort of expostulation, started singing. Her voice was low and weird.
"Wasn't she your lover?" asked Tydomin slowly. "You've made a terrible mistake," repeated Maskull. "I killed him because he was a wild beast. She was as innocent of his death as you are." Tydomin's face took on a hard look. "So you are guilty of two deaths." There was a dreadful silence. "Why couldn't you believe me?" asked Maskull, who was pale and sweating painfully.
Sullenbode listened, with half-closed eyes, nodding her head from time to time. only twice did she interrupt him. After his description of Tydomin's death, she said, speaking in a low voice "None of us women ought by right of nature to fall short of Tydomin in sacrifice. For that one act of hers, I almost love her, although she brought evil to your door."
Then suddenly there came before his eyes that ghastly closing scene at dusk on the Sant plateau Spadevil's crushed and bloody features and Tydomin's dying sighs.... He shuddered convulsively, and felt sick. The peculiar moral outlook that had dictated these brutal murders had departed from him during the night, and now he recognised what he had done!
Tydomin's words by this time were ringing in Maskull's head like an actual physical sound. There was no question of being able to ignore them; he had to make an open confession of his act, whatever the consequences might be. Quietly taking Oceaxe by the shoulder and putting her behind him, he said in a low, but perfectly distinct voice, "It was I that killed Crimtyphon."
The strange light had gone, the music had ceased, Dreamsinter had vanished. He fingered his beard, clotted with Tydomin's blood, and fell into a deep muse. "According to Panawe and Catice, this forest contains wise men. Perhaps Dreamsinter was one. Perhaps that vision I have just seen was a specimen of his wisdom.
If she asks you to do anything, refuse it outright." "The poor soul looks harmless enough." "Yes, she does but the poor soul is quite capable of swallowing up Krag himself.... Now, play the man." The murmur of their voices seemed to attract Tydomin's notice, for she now slowly turned her eyes toward them. "Who killed him?" she demanded.
By contrast with him, every object in the neighbourhood looked vague and blurred. Tydomin's person suddenly appeared faint, sketch-like, without significance, and Maskull realised that it was no better with himself. A queer, quickening fire began running through his veins. He turned to the woman. "If this man is going to Sant, I shall bear him company. We can now part.
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