Away they went, a gliding blackness over the white carpet, as
before. And it was Christmas Eve.
"When they came in sight of the mountain-lake, the king saw that it was
crowded over its whole surface with a changeful intermingling of
Shadows. They were all talking and listening alternately, in pairs,
trios, and groups of every size. Here and there, large companies were
absorbed in attention to one elevated above the rest, not in a pulpit,
or on a platform, but on the stilts of his own legs, elongated for the
nonce. The aurora, right overhead, lighted up the lake and the sides of
the mountains, by sending down from the zenith, nearly to the surface of
the lake, great folded vapours, luminous with all the colours of a faint
rainbow.
"Many, however, as the words were that passed on all sides, not a
whisper of a sound reached the ears of the king: their shadow speech
could not enter his corporeal organs. One of his guides, however, seeing
that the king wanted to hear and could not, went through a strange
manipulation of his head and ears; after which he could hear perfectly,
though still only the voice to which, for the time, he directed his
attention. This, however, was a great advantage, and one which the king
longed to carry back with him to the world of men.
"The king now discovered that this was not merely the church of the
Shadows, but their news-exchange at the same time.
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