A. Merritt's Fantasy Magazine, February 1950 — page 94: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ee ee ee ep * 1 Fey heed pee eect hig 8 ah ody wate itis avai hed tatlie $ S60) t ne a - ~All a5 eet pi a ale aX a 94 A. MERRITT’S FANTASY EEE ——— al worked longer and longer shifts. She felt that we were doomed, and that the voice of the goddess had decided against us. The only reason that she worked so en- thusiastically was that she wished to do her part. It was Darrell whose patient brain re- fused to despair. His eyes sank back in his head, and his face took on a ghastly color. My head was spinning ; I was constantly dizzy, and suffered horrible nausea like the worst kind of seasickness, A chill was growing throughout my body, spreading with every moment. But when: Darrell finally, without a word, picked up my rifle, I felt that I understand what he was about. He saw that we had come to the end. This tomb of gloomy ice would hold our bodies until the island melted into the sea. Darrell crawled out into the passage. And the girl, with a startled look in her eyés, stretched out a hand to point solemn- ly after him. I merely nodded in dark agreement with the thought that was in her eyes. And I think that she would have cried out to Darrell, but the heavy sound of the rifle’s explosion now came roaring back into our ears, I looked at the girl, and she at me. There was no sound from Darrell. I only wondered that he should have used the rifle for the job, when a revolver shot would have been so much handier. -Then I took out the old Colt. “Sylvia,” said I, “it looks like the end of the trail. Darrell is right. He’s always right. He’s ended the business. And we'd better do the same thing. If you don’t know very well how to use a gun, I’ll—” My voice trailed away. But she under- stood, and she answered, “If the goddess impels you, do as you please.” 66Q’YLVIA,” said I, “whether your goddess exists or not, it seems to me a devilish freak of bad chance that brought me to the Smoking Land, to find you, and bring you out as far as this toward my own country, and then to blot us out, like this, shut up in a handful of ice.’ “Tt is the will of the goddess,” said the girl. “To try to understand her er is to bring madness to the brain.” 33 “Sylvia,” said I, “if you have any last thing to say, speak it now.” She looked me straight in the face. “I have nothing to say but this,” said Sylvia. “I had rather die, having seen thee, than to have lived without thee.” “Then, Sylvia,” said I, “you've known that I love your” “Yes,” said she. “For a long time. Though it is not many hours since we first met.” I kissed her, and then hardened my heart. “Are you ready, Sylvia?” said I. “Ready,” said she, smiling quietly. The revolver was like a load on my heart. But now, as I lifted it, I heard a sound of stirring—not from Murder, who lay stone stiff, as if dead in his corner, but from Darrell, in the passage. And now, as I dropped the revolver, amazed, he backed out of the tunnel and showed me a face to which the color had returned and eyes that were normal once more. “The bullet went through,”’ said he, as I stared. I blinked. “Don’t you taste the air?” said he, Then I understood! What a stupid, melodramatic fool I felt. A thin ray of fresh air, like a ray of light, touched my face, through the acrid odor of the burned powder. And I fairly thrust Sylvia into the tunnel. I could imagine her with her lips pressed to the opening—a narrow opening, indeed, but one through which a man could drink life. Then she came back and I, with my eyes bursting out of my head, crawled to take my place there. There were three hours of work re- maining before us, but from the moment that the fresh air began to come through, we were renewed completely. And again, Sylvia set the pace for us, doing almost more than the two of his combined. Darrell’s steel had gone through the outer wall, as his triumphant shout told us, when I turned to Sylvia and said: “A while ago, Sylvia, when it seemed about the end of life, you may have said more than you meant to say. And now, with one smile, even, you can unsay it all, and I'll forget that you ever spoke at zip She answered, “There's not a word or a