But for once O'Keefe's confidence found no echo within me. Not lightly, as he, did I hold that dread mystery, the Dweller--and a vision passed before me, a vision of an Apocalypse undreamed by the Evangelist. A vision of the Shining One swirling into our world, a monstrous, glorious flaming pillar of incarnate, eternal Evil--of peoples passing through its radiant embrace into that hideous, unearthly life-in-death which I had seen enfold the sacrifices--of armies trembling into dancing atoms of diamond dust beneath the green ray's rhythmic death--of cities rushing out into space upon the wings of that other demoniac force which Olaf had watched at work--of a haunted world through which the assassins of the Dweller's court stole invisible, carrying with them every passion of hell--of the rallying to the Thing of every sinister soul and of the weak and the unbalanced, mystics and carnivores of humanity alike; for well I knew that, once loosed, not any nation could hold this devil-god for long and that swiftly its blight would spread! And then a world that was all colossal reek of cruelty and terror; a welter of lusts, of hatreds and of torment; a chaos of horror in which the Dweller waxing ever stronger, the ghastly hordes of those it had consumed growing ever greater, wreaked its inhuman will! At the last a ruined planet, a cosmic plague, spinning through the shuddering heavens; its verdant plains, its murmuring forests, its meadows and its mountains manned only by a countless crew of soulless, mindless dead-alive, their shells illumined with the Dweller's infernal glory--and flaming over this vampirized earth like a flare from some hell far, infinitely far, beyond the reach of man's farthest flung imagining--the Dweller! Rador jumped to his feet; walked to the whispering globe. He bent over its base; did something with its mechanism; beckoned to us. The globe swam rapidly, faster than ever I had seen it before. A low humming arose, changed into a murmur, and then from it I heard Lugur's voice clearly. "It is to be war then?" There was a chorus of assent--from the Council, I thought. "I will take the tall one named--_Larree_." It was the priestess's voice. "After the three _tal_, you may have him, Lugur, to do with as you will." "No!" it was Lugur's voice again, but with a rasp of anger. "All must die." "He shall die," again Yolara. "But I would that first he see Lakla pass--and that she know what is to happen to him." "No!" I started--for this was Marakinoff. "Now is no time, Yolara, for one's own desires. This is my counsel. At the end of the three _tal_ Lakla will come for our answer. Your men will be in ambush and they will slay her and her escort quickly with the _Keth_. But not till that is done must the three be slain--and then quickly. With Lakla dead we shall go forth to the Silent Ones--and I promise you that I will find the way to destroy them!" "It is well!" It was Lugur.