“I have a feeling,” said Maskull, “that we shall not only get there tonight, but that tonight will be the most important in my life.” And he sat down passively to rest. Chapter 18. HAUNTE While Maskull sat, Corpang walked restlessly to and fro, swinging his arms. He had lost his staff. His face was inflamed with suppressed impatience, which accentuated its natural coarseness. At last he stopped short in front of Maskull and looked down at him. “What do you intend to do?” Maskull glanced up and idly waved his hand toward the distant mountains. “Since we can’t walk, we must wait.” “For what?” “I don’t know... How’s this, though? Those peaks have changed colour, from red to green.” “Yes, the lich wind is travelling this way.” “The lich wind?” “It’s the atmosphere of Lichstorm. It always clings to the mountains, but when the wind blows from the north it comes as far as Threal.” “It’s a sort of fog, then?” “A peculiar sort, for they say it excites the sexual passions.” “So we are to have lovemaking,” said Maskull, laughing. “Perhaps you won’t find it so joyous,” replied Corpang a little grimly. “But tell me—these peaks, how do they preserve their balance?” Corpang gazed at the distant, overhanging summits, which were fast fading into obscurity. “Passion keeps them from falling.” Maskull laughed again; he was feeling a strange disturbance of spirit. “What, the love of rock for rock?” “It is comical, but true.” “We’ll take a closer peep at them presently. Beyond the mountains is Barey, is it not?” “Yes.” “And then the Ocean. But what is the name of that Ocean?” “That is told only to those who die beside it.” “Is the secret so precious, Corpang?” Branchspell was nearing the horizon in the west; there were more than two hours of daylight remaining. The air all around them became murky. It was a thin mist, neither damp nor cold. The Lichstorm Range now appeared only as a blur on the sky. The air was electric and tingling, and was exciting in its effect. Maskull felt a sort of emotional inflammation, as though a very slight external cause would serve to overturn his self-control. Corpang stood silent with a mouth like iron. Maskull kept looking toward a high pile of rocks in the vicinity. “That seems to me a good watchtower. Perhaps we shall see something from the top.” Without waiting for his companion’s opinion, he began to scramble up the tor, and in a few minutes was standing on the summit. Corpang joined him. From their viewpoint they saw the whole countryside sloping down to the sea, which appeared as a mere flash of far-off, glittering water. Leaving all that, however, Maskull’s eyes immediately fastened themselves on a small, boat-shaped object, about two miles away, which was travelling rapidly toward them, suspended only a few feet in the air. “What do you make of that?” he asked in a tone of astonishment. Corpang shook his head and said nothing.