And as the girl swirled within its sparkling mists another and another flew into its embrace, until, at last, the dais was an incredible vision; a mad star's Witches' Sabbath; an altar of white faces and bodies gleaming through living flame; transfused with rapture insupportable and horror that was hellish--and ever, radiant plumes and spirals expanding, the core of the Shining One waxed--growing greater--as it consumed, as it drew into and through itself the life-force of these lost ones! So they spun, interlaced--and there began to pulse from them life, vitality, as though the very essence of nature was filling us.

Dimly I recognized that what I was beholding was vampirism inconceivable! The banked tiers chanted.

The mighty sounds pealed forth! It was a Saturnalia of demigods! Then, whirling, bell-notes storming, the Shining One withdrew slowly from the dais down the ramp, still embracing, still interwoven with those who had thrown themselves into its spirals.

They drifted with it as though half-carried in dreadful dance; white faces sealed--forever--into that semblance of those who held within linked God and devil--I covered my eyes! I heard a gasp from O'Keefe; opened my eyes and sought his; saw the wildness vanish from them as he strained forward.

Olaf had leaned far out, and as he did so the dwarfs beside him caught him, and whether by design or through his own swift, involuntary movement, thrust him half into the Dweller's path.