I was sore tempted to go upon the
Road; for the ground was rough and the moss-bushes did catch my feet.
Yet did I stay among the bushes, though the Road was true and smooth, by
compare. And by this telling, you will perceive that I walked once more
upright, and had given over to crawl between the bushes. And, in truth,
this was so; for the Land did seem very quiet in all that part; and I
had less of fear, now that I stood beyond the horrid unease of the House
of Silence.
Now, after that I had journeyed twelve hours, I saw that I was come upon
the commencement of a great and mighty slope, as that the world did
slope downward always towards the North. And I went on again, after that
I had eat and drunk, as I did likewise before this at the sixth hour of
that day's journey.
And presently, I perceived the Road to cease; and surely this did
confound me; as that a man of this age had come to a part where the
world did end; for you shall know that the Road was that which had
seemed to go on for ever; and you shall mind the way of my life up till
that time, and so shall you the better conceive of my bewilderment, and
as it were a feeling of great strangeness unto one that was overprest,
as you would believe, with strange matters.
Yet, truly, was this all as the little book of metal had told unto me;
and so should I have been something prepared; yet are we ever thus
needing eye-proof; and perhaps it is more proper that it be so.
Yet, you shall perceive me adrift somewhat as to direction; for I had
steered before this time so that I should come to the North of the House
of Silence; and afterward had shaped my way by the Road. But now was I
adrift, as it might be set down, in the wilderness.
And so did I stand and consider, and presently did look unto the far
Pyramid, which was now a great way off in the night, and had seemed but
small by that which I knew it to be. And lo! as I did look, I perceived
that I could but see the high upper-point of the light of the Great
Pyramid, where did shine the Last Light; and I was confounded afresh;
yet in a moment I saw that the greatness of the slope did account for
this. But here I should tell to you that the slope was nowise steep; but
did seem as that it should never cease. And mayhaps this is clear unto
you.
And I perceived surely that the time was come when I should make an
utter parting from the Great Redoubt; and the thought came very heavy
upon me. And in the same time I
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