Misrath rose. “Oh my Rorka, thy wisdom is sound, thy judgment just. May I ask but one favour for the guilty Arrack? During his time of sorrows, should he perform two noble deeds wouldst thou reconsider thy verdict and allow him freedom?” “Yes, Misrath. Should he perform two noble deeds, deeds that mark him as a true son of Keemar, then publicly shall his punishment be remitted him, and once more shall he take his place among the people he has wronged. I have spoken.” The Rorka rose from his seat of justice, and with another fanfare of trumpets took his place in his state bhor and drove to the palace. Alan waited to see the end. The wretched Arrack was led from his place, and taken through a side entrance out on to the highway. There a rope was twisted round his waist, a rope that had six ends. Six men took hold of each end, and dragging it taut, led him through the streets. On he went, a misery to himself, and to those that saw him. An air bird was made ready for the journey to Fyjipo. Alan begged that he might accompany it. He wanted to see for himself what the Hall of Sorrows was really like. He had no conception of it. Was it like a Pentonville or Portland in England, or did it possess some horror that no ordinary human mind could conceive? “Go then,” said the Rorka to Alan. “Swift be thy journey there, and as swift return. Just time shalt thou have before the day arrives when Misrath shall make my child and thee—one. One on earth and one in Heaven.” “Farewell,” said Chlorie, when Alan told her of the journey he was to make. “’Tis customary in Keemar for a bride to withdraw herself from all for twelve Kymos before her wedding day. During that time she thinks and meditates on her future state. I go into silence to-morrow, Alan, and my prayers will be all for you. May you return to me in safety. Farewell.” CHAPTER XIV THE HALL OF SORROWS The air struck cold and Alan was glad of the heavy cloaks that the Rorka insisted on his taking for the journey. They had passed through glorious scenery, but now it was changing. No longer was the air sweet and balmy; no longer were the fields below covered with beautiful flowers. Great stretches of bare and rocky country took the place of the fields, and snow-topped hills looked down on the desolation. Then Fyjipo hove in sight. One great building dominated the scene. Of a dark grey stone it looked gloomy and forbidding. Kulmervan, still in the state of serquor, had been brought in a coffin of glass, and Alan felt the awful loneliness of the place, when he saw the coffin being unshipped, preparatory to being placed in the Hall of that dreadful abode. The Waz, who was in command of the journey held the only key to the heavy gates, and as he unfastened them, a drear wailing rose from within.