... There were places in the bracken where....
The rumbling clatter of a railway van disturbed the picture. His mind
followed the noise instead. Thought flashed along the street to a
station. He saw trains...
'Come at once! You're wanted here--some one calls you!' sounded a
breathless merry voice beside him. 'Come quickly; aussi schnell que
moglich!'
There was a great gulp of happiness in him; his spirit plunged in joy.
He turned and looked about him swiftly. That singing voice, with its
impudent mingling of languages was unmistakable.
'From the Pleiades. Look sharp! You've been further off than ever
lately, and further is further than farther--much! Over the forests
and into the cave, that is the way we must all behave---!'
He opened an eye.
Between him and a great gold sunset ran the wind. It was a slender
violet wind. The sunset, however, was in the act of disappearing for
the Scaffolding of Dusk was passing through the air--he saw the slung
trellis-work about him, the tracery of a million lines, the guy-ropes,
uprights, and the feathery threads of ebony that trailed the Night
behind them like a mighty cloth. There was a fluttering as of
innumerable wings.
'You needn't tug like that,' he gasped. 'I'm coming all right. I'm
out!'
'But you're so slow and sticky,' she insisted.
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