all disappeared very quickly into the darkness the same way they had come.  Then there was a silence.  I should have spoken, but Amroth put a finger on his lips.  Presently there came a sound of falling stones, and after that there broke out among the rocks below a horrible crying, as of a man in sore straits and instant fear.  Amroth jumped quickly to his feet.  “This will not do,” he said.  “Stay here for me.”  And then leaping down the rock, he disappeared, shouting words of help—­“Hold on—­I am coming.”

He came back some little time afterwards, and I saw that he was not alone.  He had with him an old stumbling man, evidently in the last extremity of terror and pain, with beads of sweat on his brow and blood running down from his hands.  He seemed dazed and bewildered.  And Amroth too looked ruffled and almost weary, as I had never seen him look.  I came down the rock to meet them.  But Amroth said, “Wait here for me; it has been a troublesome business, and I must go and bestow this poor creature in a place of safety—­I will return.”  He led the old man away among the rocks, and I waited a long time, wondering very heavily what it was that I had seen.

When Amroth came back to the rock he was fresh and smiling again:  he swung himself up, and sat by me, with his hands clasped round his knees.  Then he looked at me, and said, “I daresay you are surprised?  You did not expect to see such terrors and dangers here?  And it is a great mystery.”

“You must be kind,” I said, “and explain to me what has happened.”

“Well,” said Amroth, “there is a large gang of men who infest this place, who have got up here by their agility, and can go no further, who make it their business to prevent all they can from coming up.  I confess that it is the hardest thing of all to understand why it is allowed; but if you expect all to be plain sailing up here, you are mistaken.  One needs to be wary and strong.  They do much harm here, and will continue to do it.”

“What would have happened if they had found us here?” I said.

“Nothing very much,” said Amroth; “a good deal of talk no doubt, and some blows perhaps.  But it was well I was with you, because I could have summoned help.  They are not as strong as they look either—­it is mostly fear that aids them.”

“Well, but who are they?” I said.

“They are the most troublesome crew of all,” said Amroth, “and come nearest to the old idea of fiends—­they are indeed the origin of that notion.  To speak plainly, they are men who have lived virtuous lives, and have done cruel things from good motives.  There are some kings and statesmen among them, but they are mostly priests and schoolmasters, I imagine—­people with high ideals, of course!  But they are not replenished so fast as they used to be, I think.  Their difficulty is that they can never see that they are wrong.  Their notion is that this is a bad place to come to, and that people