Another platform, and yet another spire
springing from its basement. Still up they went, and at length
stood on a circle of stone surrounding like a coronet the last base
of the spire which lifted its apex untrodden. Then Robert turned
and looked below. He grasped the stones before him. The loneliness
was awful.
There was nothing between him and the roofs of the houses, four
hundred feet below, but the spot where he stood. The whole city,
with its red roofs, lay under him. He stood uplifted on the genius
of the builder, and the town beneath him was a toy. The all but
featureless flat spread forty miles on every side, and the roofs of
the largest buildings below were as dovecots. But the space between
was alive with awe--so vast, so real!
He turned and descended, winding through the network of stone which
was all between him and space. The object of the architect must
have been to melt away the material from before the eyes of the
spirit. He hung in the air in a cloud of stone. As he came in his
descent within the ornaments of one of the basements, he found
himself looking through two thicknesses of stone lace on the nearing
city. Down there was the beast of prey and his victim; but for the
moment he was above the region of sorrow. His weariness and his
headache had vanished utterly. With his mind tossed on its own
speechless delight, he was slowly descending still, when he saw on
his left hand a door ajar.
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