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sound from the Selenites in the world beneath had died away. It was as
still as death. Save for the faint stir of the shrub about me in the
little breeze that was rising, there was no sound nor shadow of a sound.
And the breeze blew chill.
Confound Cavor!
I took a deep breath. I put my hands to the sides of my mouth. "Cavor!" I
bawled, and the sound was like some manikin shouting far away.
I looked at the handkerchief, I looked behind me at the broadening shadow
of the westward cliff, I looked under my hand at the sun. It seemed to me
that almost visibly it was creeping down the sky.
I felt I must act instantly if I was to save Cavor. I whipped off my vest
and flung it as a mark on the sere bayonets of the shrubs behind me, and
then set off in a straight line towards the handkerchief. Perhaps it was
a couple of miles away--a matter of a few hundred leaps and strides. I
have already told how one seemed to hang through those lunar leaps. In
each suspense I sought Cavor, and marvelled why he should be hidden. In
each leap I could feel the sun setting behind me. Each time I touched
the ground I was tempted to go back.
A last leap and I was in the depression below our handkerchief, a stride,
and I stood on our former vantage point within arms' reach of it. I stood
up straight and scanned the world about me, between its lengthening bars
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