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Updated: June 28, 2025
"It is not a bad thing to hear voices," said Krag, "but you mustn't for a minute imagine that all is wise that comes to you out of the night world." When they had arrived at the open gateway of the tower, he immediately set foot on the bottom step of the spiral staircase and ran nimbly up, bearing the lantern.
At every frightful beat of sound, he quivered violently. The entrance was doorless. Krag jumped onto the rocky platform and pulled Nightspore after him. Once through the gateway, the light vanished. The rhythmical sound blows totally ceased. Nightspore dropped his hands.... All was dark and quiet as an opened tomb.
"Krag's chief," said Nightspore, turning his head away. "The riddle is too elaborate for me. I give up." "You are looking for mysteries," said Krag, "so naturally you are finding them. Try and simplify your ideas, my friend. The affair is plain and serious." Maskull stared hard at him and smoked rapidly. "Where have you come from now?" demanded Nightspore suddenly.
"Krag won't want any, and one must do something. I feel restless." "Let us take a look at the country." The cup, which was on its way to Maskull's lips, remained poised in the air. "Have you anything in view, Nightspore?" "Let us walk out to the Gap of Sorgie." "What's that?" "A showplace," answered Nightspore, biting his lip. Maskull finished off the cup, and rose to his feet.
"The journey has to be made," answered his friend in indistinct tones, "though I don't see what will come of it." Krag shot a penetrating glance at him. "More remarkable adventures than this would need to be arranged before we could excite Nightspore." "Yet he is coming." "But not con amore. He is coming merely to bear you company."
"As long as pleasure is worshiped, Krag will always be the devil." "Here we are, talking face to face, two men together.... What am I to believe of you?" "Believe your senses. The real devil is Crystalman." They continued descending the landslip. The sun's rays had grown insufferably hot. In front of them, down below in the far distance, Maskull saw water and land intermingled.
It may serve as a provisional sign. It's the best I can do, unfortunately. I am not a travelling magician.... Be very careful not to drop it. It's somewhat heavy." Maskull took the lens in his hand, struggled with it for a minute, and then looked at Krag in amazement. The little object weighed at least twenty pounds, though it was not much bigger than a crown piece.
The best of these Smilax had planned to make into a fort; not an elaborate affair, but a shoulder-high hollow square, around which was to be built another hollow square, a three foot space between their walls to be filled with sand. It was a good idea, and would stop a Krag or modern Springfield bullet with ease.
"We have discussed that, haven't we, Maskull? Maskull is anxious to behold that rare fruit in its native wilds." Maskull looked at Krag carefully, trying to analyse his own feelings toward him. He was distinctly repelled by the man's personality, yet side by side with this aversion a savage, living energy seemed to spring up in his heart that in some strange fashion was attributable to Krag.
"Krag has something for us. Let us go outside," replied Nightspore. He got up, and glanced over his shoulder. Maskull, following the direction of his eye, observed that the few remaining men were watching their little group attentively. The three men gathered in the street outside the house. The night was slightly frosty, but particularly clear, with an east wind blowing.
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