And this I have set down because later I was to make huge adventure into
those Lands; and even at this time, some thought of the same had come to
me; for always I went listening for that quiet calling; and twice I sent
the Master-Word throbbing solemnly through the everlasting night; yet
this I did no more, without certainty; for the Word must not be used
lightly. But often would I say with my brain-elements "Mirdath!
Mirdath!"--sending the name out into the darkness; and sometimes would I
seem to hear the faint thrilling of the aether around me; as though one
answered; but weakly, as it were with a weakened spirit, or by
instrument that lacked of its earth-force.

And thus, for a great while there was no certainty; but only a strange
anxiousness and no clear answer.

Then, one day as I stood by the instruments in the Tower of Observation,
at the thirteenth hour there came the thrilling of beaten aether all
about me, as it were that all the void was disturbed. And I made the
Sign for Silence; so that the men moved not in all the Tower; but bowed
over their breathing-bells, that all disturbance might cease.

And again came the gentle thrilling, and broke out into a clear, low
calling in my brain; and the calling was my name--the old-earth name of
this day, and not the name of that age. And the name smote me, with a
frightenedness of fresh awakening memories. And, immediately, I sent the
Master-Word into the night; and all the aether was full of movement. And
a silence came; and later a beat afar off in the void of night, which
only I in all that great Redoubt could hear, until the heavier
vibrations were come. And in a moment there was all about me the
throbbing of the Master-Word, beating in the night a sure answer. Yet,
before this I knew that Mirdath had called; but now had surety.