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"What a place for languishing eyes and necks of ivory, Maskull!" rasped Krag mockingly. "Why isn't Sullenbode here?" Maskull gripped him roughly and flung him against the nearest tree. Krag recovered himself, and burst into a roaring laugh, seeming not a whit discomposed. "Still what I said was it true or untrue?" Maskull gazed at him sternly. "You seem to regard yourself as a necessary evil.
"What is he talking about, Nightspore?... Do you mean the star of that name?" he went on, to Krag. "Which you have in front of you at this very minute," said Krag, pointing a thick finger toward the brightest star in the south-eastern sky. "There you see Arcturus, and Tormance is its one inhabited planet." Maskull looked at the heavy, gleaning star, and again at Krag.
"There is the drumming," he exclaimed. "Do you understand it, or have you forgotten?" "I half understand it, but I'm all confused." "It's evident Crystalman has dug his claws into you pretty deeply," said Krag. "The sound comes from Muspel, but the rhythm is caused by its travelling through Crystalman's atmosphere.
He had joined us very late and we could not get him a Krag carbine; so I had given him my Winchester, which carried the government cartridge; and when he was mustered out he carried it home in triumph, to the envy of his fellows, who themselves had to surrender their beloved rifles. For the first few days there was great confusion and some want even after we got to Montauk.
"I can't drive you away, Krag but I can make you the unwelcome third." Krag threw back his head, and gave a loud, grating laugh. "That bargain suits me all right. As long as I have the substance, you may have the shadow, and much good may it do you."
"What stuff can this be, Krag?" "Look through it, my good friend. That's what I gave it to you for." Maskull held it up with difficulty, directed it toward the gleaming Arcturus, and snatched as long and as steady a glance at the star as the muscles of his arm would permit. What he saw was this.
"Shall I remember?" he muttered. "Yes, you'll remember." "Accompany me, Krag, or I shall be lost." "There is nothing for me to do in there. I shall wait outside for you." "You are returning to the struggle?" demanded Nightspore, gnawing his fingertips. "Yes." "I dare not." The thunderous clangor of the rhythmical beats struck on his head like actual blows.
Maskull got up, with a beating heart. Krag appeared on the threshold of the door, bearing in his hand a feebly glimmering lantern. A hat was on his head, and he looked stern and forbidding. After scrutinising the two friends for a moment or so, he strode into the room and thrust the lantern on the table. Its light hardly served to illuminate the walls. "You have got here, then, Maskull?"
They were being effeminated and corrupted that is to say, absorbed in the foul, sickly enveloping forms. Nightspore felt a sickening shame in his soul as he looked on at that spectacle. His exaltation had long since vanished. He bit his nails, and understood why Krag was waiting for him below. He mounted slowly to the fifth window.
"Change the subject.... The world's hard and cruel, and I am thankful to be leaving it." "On one point, though, you both agree," said Krag, smiling evilly. "Pleasure is good, and the cessation of pleasure is bad." Gangnet glanced at him coldly. "We know your peculiar theories, Krag. You are very fond of them, but they are unworkable. The world could not go on being, without pleasure."
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