“Nothing.  But I would like to see you by sunlight.”

“Perhaps you never will.”

“Your life must be most solitary.”

She explored his features with her black, slow-gleaming eyes.  “Why do you fear to speak your feelings, Maskull?”

“Things seem to open up before me like a sunrise, but what it means I can’t say.”

Sullenbode laughed outright.  “It assuredly does not mean the approach of night.”

Corpang, who had been staring steadily along the ridge, here abruptly broke in.  “The road is plain now, Maskull.  If you wish it, I’ll go on alone.”

“No, we’ll go on together.  Sullenbode will accompany us.”

“A little way,” said the woman, “but not to Adage, to pit my strength against unseen powers.  That light is not for me.  I know how to renounce love, but I will never be a traitor to it.”

“Who knows what we shall find on Adage, or what will happen?  Corpang is as ignorant as myself.”

Corpang looked him full in the face.  “Maskull, you are quite well aware that you never dare approach that awful fire in the society of a beautiful woman.”

Maskull gave an uneasy laugh.  “What Corpang doesn’t tell you, Sullenbode, is that I am far better acquainted with Muspel-light than he, and that, but for a chance meeting with me, he would still be saying his prayers in Threal.”

“Still, what he says must be true,” she replied, looking from one to the other.

“And so I am not to be allowed to—­”

“So long as I am with you, I shall urge you onward, and not backward, Maskull.”

“We need not quarrel yet,” he remarked, with a forced smile.  “No doubt things will straighten themselves out.”

Sullenbode began kicking the snow about with her foot.  “I picked up another piece of wisdom in my sleep, Corpang.”

“Tell it to me, then.”

“Men who live by laws and rules are parasites.  Others shed their strength to bring these laws out of nothing into the light of day, but the law-abiders live at their ease—­they have conquered nothing for themselves.”

“It is given to some to discover, and to others to preserve and perfect.  You cannot condemn me for wishing Maskull well.”

“No, but a child cannot lead a thunderstorm.”

They started walking again along the centre of the ridge.  All three were abreast, Sullenbode in the middle.

The road descended by an easy gradient, and was for a long distance comparatively smooth.  The freezing point seemed higher than on Earth, for the few inches of snow through which they trudged felt almost warm to their naked feet.  Maskull’s soles were by now like tough hides.  The moonlit snow was green and dazzling.  Their slanting, abbreviated shadows were sharply defined, and red-black in colour.  Maskull, who walked on Sullenbode’s right hand, looked constantly to the left, toward the galaxy of glorious distant peaks.