erent world....

When they were on their feet again, he questioned Nightspore. "We came
here solely to hear that?"

Nightspore cast one of his odd looks at him. "It's called locally 'The
Drum Taps of Sorgie.' You will not hear that name again, but perhaps you
will hear the sound again."

"And if I do, what will it imply?" demanded Maskull in amazement.

"It bears its own message. Only try always to hear it more and more
distinctly.... Now it's growing dark, and we must get back."

Maskull pulled out his watch automatically, and looked at the time. It
was past six.... But he was thinking of Nightspore's words, and not of
the time.

Night had already fallen by the time they regained the tower. The black
sky was glorious with liquid stars. Arcturus was a little way above the
sea, directly opposite them, in the east. As they were passing the base
of the tower, Maskull observed with a sudden shock that the gate was
open. He caught hold of Nightspore's arm violently. "Look! Krag is
back."

"Yes, we must make haste to the house."

"And why not the tower? He's probably in there, since the gate is open.
I'm going up to look."

Nightspore grunted, but made no opposition.

All was pitch-black inside the gate. Maskull struck a match, and the
flickering light disclosed the lower end of a circular flight of stone
steps. "Are you coming up?" he asked.

"No, I'll wait here."

Maskull immediately began the ascent. Hardly had he mounted half a dozen
steps, however, before he was compelled to pause, to gain breath.
He seemed to be carrying upstairs not one Maskull, but three. As he
proceeded, the sensation of crushing weight, so far from diminishing,
grew worse and worse. It was nearly physically impossible to go on; his
lungs could not take in enough oxygen, while his heart thumped like a
ship's engine. Sweat coursed down his face. At the twentieth step he
completed the first revolution of the tower and came face to face with
the first window, which was set in a high embrasure.

Realising that he could go no higher, he struck another match, and
climbed into the embrasure, in order that he might at all events see
something from the tower. The flame died, and he stared through the
window at the stars. Then, to his astonishment, he discovered that it
was not a window at all but a lens.... The sky was not a wide expanse of
space containing a multitude of stars, but a blurred darkness, focused
only in one part, where two very