The Metal Monster by Abraham Merritt
page 56 of 411 (13%)
page 56 of 411 (13%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
A lark had risen from the roof of one of the shattered heaps and had flown caroling up into the shadowy sky. A flock of the little willow warblers flung themselves across the valley, scolding and gossiping; a hare sat upright in the middle of the ancient roadway. The valley itself lay serenely under the ambering light, smiling, peaceful--emptied of horror! I dropped over the side, walked cautiously down the road up which but an hour or so before we had struggled so desperately; paced farther and farther with an increasing confidence and a growing wonder. Gone was that soul of loneliness; vanished the whirlpool of despair that had striven to drag us down to death. The bowl was nothing but a quiet, smiling lovely little hollow in the hills. I looked back. Even the ruins had lost their sinister shape; were time-worn, crumbling piles--nothing more. I saw Ruth and Drake run out upon the ledge and beckon me; made my way back to them, running. "It's all right," I shouted. "The place is all right." I stumbled up the side; joined them. |
|