But, all the while he was drawing his silver robe, fold on fold, thicker and tighter about himself, and his figure grew dim.
One after another the distant islands in the lake sank out of sight, and the fires were merely a faint red glow on the one occupied by St.Luc.
Over the waters the vapors swept in great billows and columns.
Daganoweda drew a great breath.

The sun itself was fading.

Areskoui had shown his face long enough and now he meant to make the veil between himself and man impenetrable.

He became a mere shadow, the mists and vapors rolled up wave on wave, and he was gone entirely.

Then night came down over mountains, forest and Andiatarocte.