“Do you want to stay here?” demanded Oceaxe suspiciously.

“Yes, Oceaxe dear, I wish to be alone.”

“Then what is to become of us?”

“I thought that you and your lover—­what is his name?”

“Maskull.”

“I thought that perhaps you two would go to Disscourn, and spend Blodsombre at my home.”

Oceaxe called out aloud to Maskull, “Will you come with me now to Disscourn?”

“If you wish,” returned Maskull.

“Go first, Oceaxe.  I must question your friend about Crimtyphon’s death.  I won’t keep him.”

“Why don’t you question me, rather?” demanded Oceaxe, looking up sharply.

Tydomin gave the shadow of a smile.  “We know each other too well.”

“Play no tricks!” said Oceaxe, and she turned to go.

“Surely you must be dreaming,” said Tydomin.  “That’s the way—­ unless you want to walk over the cliffside.”

The path Oceaxe had chosen led across the isthmus.  The direction which Tydomin proposed for her was over the edge of the precipice, into empty space.

“Shaping!  I must be mad,” cried Oceaxe, with a laugh.  And she obediently followed the other’s finger.

She walked straight on toward the edge of the abyss, twenty paces away.  Maskull pulled his beard around, and wondered what she was doing.  Tydomin remained standing with outstretched finger, watching her.  Without hesitation, without slackening her step once, Oceaxe strolled on—­and when she had reached the extreme end of the land she still took one more step.

Maskull saw her limbs wrench as she stumbled over the edge.  Her body disappeared, and as it did so an awful shriek sounded.

Disillusionment had come to her an instant too late.  He tore himself out of his stupor, rushed to the edge of the cliff, threw himself on the ground recklessly, and looked over....  Oceaxe had vanished.

He continued staring wildly down for several minutes, and then began to sob.  Tydomin came up to him, and he got to his feet.

The blood kept rushing to his face and leaving it again.  It was some time before he could speak at all.  Then he brought out the words with difficulty.  “You shall pay for this, Tydomin.  But first I want to hear why you did it.”

“Hadn’t I cause?” she asked, standing with downcast eyes.

“Was it pure fiendishness?”

“It was for Crimtyphon’s sake.”

“She had nothing to do with that death.  I told you so.”

“You are loyal to her, and I’m loyal to him.”

“Loyal?  You’ve made a terrible blunder.  She wasn’t my mistress.  I killed Crimtyphon for quite another reason.  She had absolutely no part in it.”

“Wasn’t she your lover?” asked Tydomin slowly.

“You’ve made a terrible mistake,” repeated Maskull.  “I killed him because he was a wild beast.  She was as innocent of his death as you are.”