High in the air ran that path, over the dim roofs of the city of Kaloon, over the river, yes, straight above us, over the mountains, and doubtless--though there we could not follow them--across the desert to that high eminence on its farther side where we had lain bathed in their radiance.

It was a wondrous and most impressive sight, one too that filled our companions with fear, for the steersmen in our boats and the drivers on the towing-path groaned aloud and began to utter prayers.

"What do they say ?" asked Leo of Simbri.
"They say, lord, that the Spirit of the Mountain is angry, and passes down yonder flying light that is called the Road of Hes to work some evil to our land.

Therefore they pray her not to destroy them." "Then does that light not always shine thus ?" he asked again.
"Nay, but seldom.

Once about three months ago, and now to-night, but before that not for years.