Facts and the Beautiful Sea, even as it is written in the Law of the
Pilgrimage.

The tired feet of the Traveler left now the rough, hot floor of the
desert for a soft, cool carpet of velvet grass all inwrought with
blossoms that filled the air with fragrance. Over his head, tall trees
gently shook their glistening, shadowy leaves, while sweet voiced birds
of rare and wondrous plumage flitted from bough to bough. Across a sky
of deepest blue, fleets of fairy cloud ships, light as feathery down,
floated--floated--drifting lazily, as though, piloted only by the wind,
their pilot slept. All about him, as he walked, multitudes of sunlight
and shadow fairies danced gaily hand in hand. And over the shimmering
surface of the Sea a thousand thousand fairy waves ran joyously, one
after the other, from the sky line to the pebbly beach, making liquid
music clearer and softer than the softest of clear toned bells.

And there it was, in that wondrously beautiful place, the
Outer-Edge-Of-Things, that the Pilgrim found, fashioned of sheerest
white, with lofty dome, towering spires, and piercing minarets lifting
out of the living green, the Temple of Truth.

[Illustration: (see king003.png)]

In reverent awe the Pilgrim stood before the sacred object of his
Pilgrimage.

At last, with earnest step, the worshiper approached the holy edifice.
But when he would have passed through the high arched door, his way was
barred by one whose garments were white even as the whiteness of the
Temple, whose eyes were clear even as the skies, and whose face shone