THE SWEET-SCENTED NAME
On the shore of the forest stream you left long since the mangled body of Timaride. The Beast has sated himself with the fine blood of your friend—he has devoured the flesh which should have tasted earthly happiness; the wonderful human form has been destroyed, and that in it which was more than human has perished, all to give a moment's satisfaction to the ever insatiable Beast. The blood, the marvellous blood, godly wine of joy, the wine of more than human blessing—where is it now? Alas! the eternally thirsting Beast has been made drunk for a moment by it. You have left the mangled body of Timaride by the side of the forest stream, have forgotten the promise given to your splendid friend, and the word of the ancient oracle has not driven fear from your heart. Think you then, that saving yourself you can escape the Beast and that he will not find you?"
The voice and the words were stern. The grey ones had stopped in their dancing to listen. Gurof said:
"What is the Beast to me. I have fixed my walls about me for ever, and the Beast will not find a way to me in my fortress."
At that the grey ones rejoiced and scampered round the room anew, but the Herald
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