“You haven’t been idle, friend.”

Corpang fixed Haunte with his bold, heavy gaze.  “I thought it well to draw your teeth.”

Maskull burst out laughing.  “The toad’s come into the light to some purpose, Haunte.  Who would have expected it?”

Haunte, after staring hard at Corpang for two or three minutes, suddenly uttered a strange cry, like an evil spirit, and flung himself upon him.  The two men began to wrestle like wildcats.  They were as often on the floor as on their legs, and Maskull could not see who was getting the better of it.  He made no attempt to separate them.  A thought came into his head and, snatching up the two male stones, he ran with them, laughing, through the upper doorway, into the open night air.

The door overlooked an abyss on another face of the mountain.  A narrow ledge, sprinkled with green snow, wound along the cliff to the right; it was the only available path.  He pitched the pebbles over the edge of the chasm.  Although hard and heavy in his hand, they sank more like feathers than stones, and left a long trail of vapour behind.  While Maskull was still watching them disappear, Haunte came rushing out of the cavern, followed by Corpang.  He gripped Maskull’s arm excitedly.

“What in Krag’s name have you done?”

“Overboard they have gone,” replied Maskull, renewing his laughter.

“You accursed madman!”

Haunte’s luminous colour came and went, just as though his internal light were breathing.  Then he grew suddenly calm, by a supreme exertion of his will.

“You know this kills me?”

“Haven’t you been doing your best this last hour to make me ripe for Sullenbode?  Well then, cheer up, and join the pleasure party!”

“You say it as a joke, but it is the miserable truth.”

Haunte’s jeering malevolence had completely vanished.  He looked a sick man—­yet somehow his face had become nobler.

“I would be very sorry for you, Haunte, if it did not entail my being also very sorry for myself.  We are now all three together on the same errand—­which doesn’t appear to have struck you yet.”

“But why this errand at all?” asked Corpang quietly.  “Can’t you men exercise self-control till you have arrived out of danger?”

Haunte fixed him with wild eyes.  “No.  The phantoms come trooping in on me already.”

He sat down moodily, but the next minute was up again.

“And I cannot wait.... the game is started.”

Soon afterward, by silent consent, they began to walk the ledge, Haunte in front.  It was narrow, ascending, and slippery, so that extreme caution was demanded.  The way was lighted by the self-luminous snow and rocks.

When they had covered about half a mile, Maskull, who went second of the party, staggered, caught the cliff, and finally sat down.

“The drink works.  My old sensations are returning, but worse.”