They cleared the first line of precipices.  Still mounting, but this time with a forward motion, as could be seen by the vapours illuminated by the male stones through which they passed, they were soon altogether out of sight of solid ground.  Suddenly and quite unexpectedly the moon broke through.  In the upper atmosphere thick masses of fog were seen crawling hither and thither, broken in many places by thin rifts of sky, through one of which Teargeld was shining.  Below them, to their left, a gigantic peak, glittering with green ice, showed itself for a few seconds, and was then swallowed up again.  All the rest of the world was hidden by the mist.  The moon went in again.  Maskull had seen quite enough to make him long for the aerial voyage to end.

The light from the male stones presently illuminated the face of a new cliff.  It was grand, rugged, and perpendicular.  Upward, downward, and on both sides, it faded imperceptibly into the night.  After coasting it a little way, they observed a shelf of rock jutting out.  It was square, measuring about a dozen feet each way.  Green snow covered it to a depth of some inches.  Immediately behind it was a dark slit in the rock, which promised to be the mouth of a cave.

Haunte skilfully landed the boat on this platform.  Standing up, he raised the staff bearing the keel light and lowered the other; then removed both male stones, which he continued to hold in his hand.  His face was thrown into strong relief by the vivid, sparkling blue-white rays.  It looked rather surly.

“Do we get out?” inquired Maskull.

“Yes.  I live here.”

“Thanks for the successful end of a dangerous journey.”

“Yes, it has been touch-and-go.”

Corpang jumped onto the platform.  He was smiling coarsely.  “There has been no danger, for our destinies lie elsewhere.  You are merely a ferryman, Haunte.”

“Is that so?” returned Haunte, with a most unpleasant laugh.  “I thought I was carrying men, not gods.”

“Where are we?” asked Maskull.  As he spoke, he got out, but Haunte remained standing a minute in the boat.

“This is Sarclash—­the second highest mountain in the land.”

“Which is the highest, then?”

“Adage.  Between Sarclash and Adage there is a long ridge—­very difficult in places.  About halfway along the ridge, at the lowest point, lies the top of the Mornstab Pass, which goes through to Barey.  Now you know the lay of the land.”

“Does the woman Sullenbode live near here?”

“Near enough.”  Haunte grinned.

He leaped out of the boat and, pushing past the others without ceremony, walked straight into the cave.

Maskull followed, with Corpang at his heels.  A few stone steps led to a doorway, curtained by the skin of some large beast.  Their host pushed his way in, never offering to hold the skin aside for them.  Maskull made no comment, but grabbed it with his fist and tugged it away from its fastenings to the ground.  Haunte looked at the skin, and then stared hard at Maskull with his disagreeable smile, but neither said anything.