Yes, that was it—plated. Plated with some metallic substance that was itself a reservoir of luminosity and from which, it came to me, pulsed the force that lighted the winking ions. But who could have done such a thing? For what purpose? How?
And the meticulousness, the perfection of these smoothed cliffs struck over my nerves as no rasp could, stirring a vague resentment, an irritated desire for human inharmonies, human disorder.
Absorbed in my examination I had forgotten those who must share with me my doubts and dangers. I felt a grip on my arm.
“If we get close enough and I can get my feet loose from this damned thing I'll jump,” Drake said.
“What?” I gasped, blankly, startled out of my preoccupation. “Jump where?”
I followed his pointing finger. We were rapidly closing upon the other cube; it was now a scant twenty paces ahead; it seemed to be stopping. Ventnor was leaning forward, quivering with eagerness.
“Ruth!” he called. “Ruth—are you all right?”
Slowly she turned to us—my heart gave a great leap, then seemed to stop. For her sweet face was touched with that same unearthly tranquillity which was Norhala's; in her brown eyes was a shadow of that passionless spirit brooding in Norhala's own; her voice as she answered held within it more than echo of Norhala's faint, far-off golden chiming.
“Yes,” she sighed; “yes, Martin—have no fear for me—”
And turned from us, gazing forward once more with the woman and as silent as she.