"And where will you seek him, in this bare country?"
Spadevil struck off toward the north unhesitatingly.
"It is not so far," he said. "It is his custom to be in that part where Sant overhangs the Wombflash Forest. Perhaps he will be there, but I cannot say."
Maskull glanced toward Tydomin. Her sunken cheeks, and the dark circles beneath her eyes told of her extreme weariness.
"The woman is tired, Spadevil," he said.
She smiled, "It's but another step into the land of death. I can manage it. Give me your arm, Maskull."
He put his arm around her waist, and supported her along that way.
"The sun is now sinking," said Maskull. "Will we get there before dark?"
"Fear nothing, Maskull and Tydomin; this pain is eating up the evil in your nature. The road you are walking cannot remain unwalked. We shall arrive before dark."
The sun then disappeared behind the far-distant ridges that formed the western boundary of the Ifdawn Marest. The sky blazed up into more vivid colors. The wind grew colder.
They passed some pools of colourless gnawl water, round the banks of which were planted fruit trees. Maskull ate some of the fruit. It was hard, bitter, and astringent; he could not get rid of the taste, but he felt braced and invigorated by the downward-flowing juices. No other trees or shrubs were to be seen anywhere. No animals appeared, no birds or insects. It was a desolate land.
A mile or two passed, when they again approached the edge of the plateau. Far down, beneath their feet, the great Wombflash Forest began. But daylight had vanished there; Maskull's eyes rested only on a vague darkness. He faintly heard what sounded like the distant sighing of innumerable treetops.
In the rapidly darkening twilight, they came abruptly on a man. He was standing in a pool, on one leg. A pile of boulders had hidden him from their view. The water came as far up as his calf. A trifork, similar to the one Maskull had seen on Disscourn, but smaller, had been stuck in the mud close by his hand.
They stopped by the side of the pond, and waited. Immediately he became aware of their presence, the man set down his other leg, and waded out of the water toward them, picking up his trifork in doing so.
"This is not Maulger, but Catice," said Spadevil.
"Maulger is dead," said Catice, speaking the same tongue as Spadevil, but with an even harsher accent, so that the tympanum of Maskull's ear was affected painfully.
The latter saw before him a bowed, powerful individual, advanced in years. He wore nothing but a scanty loincloth. His trunk was long and heavy, but his legs were rather short. His face was beardless, lemon-coloured, and anxious-looking. It was disfigured by a number of longitudinal ruts, a quarter of an inch deep, the cavities of which seemed clogged with ancient dirt. The hair of his head was black and sparse. Instead of the twin membranous organs of Spadevil, he possessed but one; and this was in the centre of his brow.
Spadevil's dark, solid person stood out from the rest like a reality among dreams.
"Has the trifork passed to you?" he demanded.
"Yes. Why have you brought this woman to Sant?"
"I have brought another thing to Sant. I have brought the new faith."
Catice stood motionless, and looked troubled. "State it."
"Shall I speak with many words, or few words?"
"If you wish to say what is not, many words will not suffice. If you wish to say what is, a few words will be enough."
Spadevil frowned.
"To hate pleasure brings pride with it. Pride is a pleasure. To kill pleasure, we must attach ourselves to duty. While the mind is planning right action, it has no time to think of pleasure."
"Is that the whole?" asked Catice.
"The truth is simple, even for the simplest man."
"Do you destroy Hator, and all his generations, with a single word?"
"I destroy nature, and set up law."
A long silence followed.
"My probe is double," said Spadevil. "Suffer me to double yours, and you will see as I see."
"Come you here, you big man!" said Catice to Maskull. Maskull advanced a step closer.
"Do you follow Spadevil in his new faith?"
"As far as death," exclaimed Maskull.
Catice picked up a flint. "With this stone I strike out one of your two probes. When you have but one, you will see with me, and you will recollect with Spadevil. Choose you then the superior faith, and I shall obey your choice."
"Endure this little pain, Maskull, for the sake of future men," said Spadevil.
"The pain is nothing," replied Maskull, "but I fear the result."
"Permit me, although I am only a woman, to take his place, Catice,"
said Tydomin, stretching out her hand.
He struck at it violently with the flint, and gashed it from wrist to thumb; the pale carmine blood spouted up. "What brings this kiss-lover to Sant?" he said. "How does she presume to make the rules of life for the sons of Hator?"
She bit her lip, and stepped back. "Well then, Maskull, accept! I certainly should not have played false to Spadevil; but you hardly can."
"If he bids me, I must do it," said Maskull. "But who knows what will come of it?"
Spadevil spoke. "Of all the descendants of Hator, Catice is the most wholehearted and sincere. He will trample my truth underfoot, thinking me a demon sent by Shaping, to destroy the work of this land. But a seed will escape, and my blood and yours, Tydomin, will wash it. Then men will know that my destroying evil is their greatest good. But none here will live to see that."
Maskull now went quite close to Catice, and offered his head. Catice raised his hand, and after holding the flint poised for a moment, brought it down with adroitness and force upon the left-hand probe. Maskull cried out with the pain. The blood streamed down, and the function of the organ was destroyed.
There was a pause, while he walked to and fro, trying to staunch the blood.
"What now do you feel, Maskull? What do you see?" inquired Tydomin anxiously.
He stopped, and stared hard at her. "I now see straight," he said slowly.
"What does that mean?"
He continued to wipe the blood from his forehead. He looked troubled. "Henceforward, as long as I live, I shall fight with my nature, and refuse to feel pleasure. And I advise you to do the same."
Spadevil gazed at him sternly. "Do you renounce my teaching?"
Maskull, however, returned the gaze without dismay. Spadevil's image-like clearness of form had departed for him; his frowning face he knew to be the deceptive portico of a weak and confused intellect.
"It is false."
"Is it false to sacrifice oneself for another?" demanded Tydomin.
"I can't argue as yet," said Maskull. "At this moment the world with its sweetness seems to me a sort of charnel house. I feel a loathing for everything in it, including myself. I know no more."
"Is there no duty?" asked Spadevil, in a harsh tone.
"It appears to me but a cloak under which we share the pleasure of other people."
Tydomin pulled at Spadevil's arm. "Maskull has betrayed you, as he has so many others. Let us go."
He stood fast. "You have changed quickly, Maskull."
Maskull, without answering him, turned to Catice. "Why do men go on living in this soft, shameful world, when they can kill themselves?"
"Pain is the native air of Surtur's children. To what other air do you wish to escape?"
"Surtur's children? Is not Surtur Shaping?"
"It is the greatest of lies. It is Shaping's masterpiece."
"Answer, Maskull!" said Spadevil. "Do you repudiate right action?"
"Leave me alone. Go back! I am not thinking of you, and your ideas. I wish you no harm."
The darkness came on fast. There was another prolonged silence.
Catice threw away the flint, and picked up his staff. "The woman must return home," he said. "She was persuaded here, and did not come freely. You, Spadevil, must die - backslider as you are!"
Tydomin said quietly, "He has no power to enforce this. Are you going to allow the truth to fall to the ground, Spadevil?"