Cynthia leaned forward, her face strained and intense as he went on.
"The Romans hated and feared them. There was a terrible, bloody battle and the Druids no longer danced in their groves of oak, in slow procession to a weird dirge-like chanting. They vanished from Earth and almost from the memory of man."
Ned took a deep breath.
"Man fears the unknown, and knowledge is a source of danger. Maybe the Druids were never really native to Earth. What if this were their home planet—"
"Ned, you can't really believe—"
"Listen!" Ned said.
The sound was clearly audible through the thin walls of the rocket-ship. It was a steady, dull droning—an eerie, terrifying sound.
Ned got up and walked to the viewport. He stared out—
He could see the Sweeney's dwelling clearly. It was bathed in an unearthly green light, and around it in a circle robed figures moved through shadows the color of blood. Around and around in ever widening circles, their tall gaunt bodies strangely bent.
For a full minute he stared out. When his wife joined him he stretched out a hand and let it rest lightly on her shoulder.