“If there’s danger, he ought to be warned,” said Maskull.
“He who is always anxious to teach will learn nothing,” returned the woman coolly. She restrained Maskull by a pressure of the arm, and continued to watch.
The base of one of the columns touched the man. He remained unharmed, but turned sharply around, as if for the first time made aware of the proximity of these deadly waltzers. Then he raised himself to his full height, and stretched both arms aloft above his head, like a diver. He seemed to be addressing the columns.
While they looked on, the electric spouts discharged themselves, with a series of loud explosions. The stranger stood alone, uninjured. He dropped his arms. The next moment he caught sight of the two, and stood still, waiting for them to come up. The pictorial clarity of his person grew more and more noticeable as they approached; his body seemed to be composed of some substance heavier and denser than solid matter.
Tydomin looked perplexed.
“He must be a Sant man. I have seen no one quite like him before. This is a day of days for me.”
“He must be an individual of great importance,” murmured Maskull.
They now came up to him. He was tall, strong, and bearded, and was clothed in a shirt and breeches of skin. Since turning his back to the wind, the green deposit on his face and limbs had changed to streaming moisture, through which his natural colour was visible; it was that of pale iron. There was no third arm. His face was harsh and frowning, and a projecting chin pushed the beard forward. On his forehead there were two flat membranes, like rudimentary eyes, but no sorb. These membranes were expressionless, but in some strange way seemed to add vigour to the stern eyes underneath. When his glance rested on Maskull, the latter felt as though his brain were being thoroughly travelled through. The man was middle-aged.
His physical distinctness transcended nature. By contrast with him, every object in the neighbourhood looked vague and blurred. Tydomin’s person suddenly appeared faint, sketch-like, without significance, and Maskull realised that it was no better with himself. A queer, quickening fire began running through his veins.
He turned to the woman. “If this man is going to Sant, I shall bear him company. We can now part. No doubt you will think it high time.”