to him; but it never came.

And the years rolled on; he counted them by the steps he had cut--a few for
a year--only a few. He sang no more; he said no more, "I will do this or
that"--he only worked. And at night, when the twilight settled down, there
looked out at him from the holes and crevices in the rocks strange wild
faces.

"Stop your work, you lonely man, and speak to us," they cried.

"My salvation is in work, if I should stop but for one moment you would
creep down upon me," he replied. And they put out their long necks
further.

"Look down into the crevice at your feet," they said. "See what lie there-
-white bones! As brave and strong a man as you climbed to these rocks."
And he looked up. He saw there was no use in striving; he would never hold
Truth, never see her, never find her. So he lay down here, for he was very
tired. He went to sleep forever. He put himself to sleep. Sleep is very
tranquil. You are not lonely when you are asleep, neither do your hands
ache, nor your heart. And the hunter laughed between his teeth.

"Have I torn from my heart all that was dearest; have I wandered alone in
the land of night; have I resisted temptation; have I dwelt where the voice
of my kind is never heard, and laboured alone, to lie down and be food for
you, ye harpies?"

He laughed fiercely; and the Echoes of Despair slunk away, for the laugh of
a brave, strong heart is as a death blow to them.