“I would, regardless of the consequences.”

“Even if you personally had nothing to hope for?”

“But I would have that to hope for.”

Leehallfae walked on in silence.

“A man is the half of Life,” ae broke out suddenly.  “A woman is the other half of life, but a phaen is the whole of life.  Moreover, when life becomes split into halves, something else has dropped out of it—­ something that belongs only to the whole.  Between your love and mine there is no comparison.  If even your sluggish blood is drawn to Faceny, without stopping to ask what will come of it, how do you suppose it is with me?”

“I don’t question the genuineness of your passion,” replied Maskull, “but it’s a pity you can’t see your way to carry it forward into the next world.”

Leehallfae gave a distorted grin, expressing heaven knows what emotion.  “Men think what they like, but phaens are so made that they can see the world only as it really is.”

That ended the conversation.

The sun was high in the sky, and they appeared to be approaching the head of the ravine.  Its walls had still further closed in and, except at those moments when Branchspell was directly behind them, they strode along all the time in deep shade; but still it was disagreeably hot and relaxing.  All life had ceased.  A beautiful, fantastic spectacle was presented by the cliff faces, the rocky ground, and the boulders that choked the entire width of the gorge.  They were a snow-white crystalline limestone, heavily scored by veins of bright, gleaming blue.  The rivulet was no longer green, but a clear, transparent crystal.  Its noise was musical, and altogether it looked most romantic and charming, but Leehallfae seemed to find something else in it—­aer features grew more and more set and tortured.

About half an hour after all the other life forms had vanished, another plant-animal was precipitated out of space, in front of their eyes.  It was as tall as Maskull himself, and had a brilliant and vigorous appearance, as befitted a creature just out of Nature’s mint.  It started to walk about; but hardly had it done so when it burst silently asunder.  Nothing remained of it—­the whole body disappeared instantaneously into the same invisible mist from which it had sprung.

“That bears out what you said,” commented Maskull, turning rather pale.

“Yes,” answered Leehallfae, “we have now come to the region of terrible life.”

“Then, since you’re right in this, I must believe all that you’ve been telling me.”

As he uttered the words, they were just turning a bend of the ravine.  There now loomed up straight ahead a perpendicular cliff about three hundred feet in height, composed of white, marbled rock.  It was the head of the valley, and beyond it they could not proceed.

“In return for my wisdom,” said the phaen, “you will now lend me your luck.”