“As long as it’s in my power I shall go on, and warn my sister against her criminal friends.”

Maskull again clutched at him, but this time with violence.  Instructed in his actions by some new and horrible instinct, he pressed the young man tightly to his body with all three arms.  A feeling of wild, sweet delight immediately passed through him.  Then for the first time he comprehended the triumphant joys of “absorbing.”  It satisfied the hunger of the will, exactly as food satisfies the hunger of the body.  Digrung proved feeble—­he made little opposition.  His personality passed slowly and evenly into Maskull’s.  The latter became strong and gorged.  The victim gradually became paler and limper, until Maskull held a corpse in his arms.  He dropped the body, and stood trembling.  He had committed his second crime.  He felt no immediate difference in his soul, but...

Tydomin shed a sad smile on him, like winter sunshine.  He half expected her to speak, but she said nothing.  Instead, she made a sign to him to pick up Crimtyphon’s corpse.  As he obeyed, he wondered why Digrung’s dead face did not wear the frightful Crystalman mask.

“Why hasn’t he altered?” he muttered to himself.

Tydomin heard him.  She kicked Digrung lightly with her little foot.  “He isn’t dead—­that’s why.  The expression you mean is waiting for your death.”

“Then is that my real character?”

She laughed softly.  “You came here to carve a strange world, and now it appears you are carved yourself.  Oh, there’s no doubt about it, Maskull.  You needn’t stand there gaping.  You belong to Shaping, like the rest of us.  You are not a king, or a god.”

“Since when have I belonged to him?”

“What does that matter?  Perhaps since you first breathed the air of Tormance, or perhaps since five minutes ago.”

Without waiting for his response, she set off through the copse, and strode on to the next island.  Maskull followed, physically distressed and looking very grave.

The journey continued for half an hour longer, without incident.  The character of the scenery slowly changed.  The mountaintops became loftier and more widely separated from one another.  The gaps were filled with rolling, white clouds, which bathed the shores of the peaks like a mysterious sea.  To pass from island to island was hard work, the intervening spaces were so wide—­Tydomin, however, knew the way.  The intense light, the violet-blue sky, the patches of vivid landscape, emerging from the white vapour-ocean, made a profound impression on Maskull’s mind.  The glow of Alppain was hidden by the huge mass of Disscourn, which loomed up straight in front of them.

The green snow on the top of the gigantic pyramid had by now completely melted away.  The black, gold, and crimson of its mighty cliffs stood out with terrific brilliance.  They were directly beneath the bulk of the mountain, which was not a mile away.  It did not appear dangerous to climb, but he was unaware on which side of it their destination lay.