By David Lindsay
This paintings is an intriguingly written paintings of fiction so one can captivate the reader. whereas traveling his far away relative Ingrid Fletcher, Hugh Drapier, a Highland Scot, asks her to take him to the weird rock formation known as Devil's Tor. The formation resembles the top of a gargoyle. As they're the rock, lightning moves it, exposing an underground tomb. Hugh investigates the tomb and sees a stunning girl look on a stone desk in the midst of the tomb. The imaginative and prescient fades away. additional into the tomb, Hugh reveals a stone just like one Ingrid has. via staring at on the stones, one other international is published.
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Additional info for Devil's Tor
Limping painfully, she took with him the first experimental steps towards their late refuge. But an anticipation of some odd difference in the limited view was possessing the two simultaneously, and before the perplexity of either could find words their feet, seemingly of their own will, first dragged, then stopped. Drapier, after a long spell of staring ahead, turned round to his cousin. " A still longer pause of silence and wonder followed. "I might have known that all that noise could represent nothing else," said Drapier at last.
Ingrid flushed, as she hastened to change the subject. " "I can't tell. " She wondered why not. "Presumably the wanderlust will still take you? " "Truly, I seem to care less for England each time I come back to it. " "But you can't keep away; and that is everything. I think I should regard you, for that one circumstance, as the very luckiest person of my acquaintance, except that for some reason or other you don't impress me as being frightfully happy with it all. " "I have had pretty good luck so far; but happiness is always an ambiguous term.
They had begun to descend towards the dip that lay between them and the Tor's base. Another brilliant flash was accompanied by an almost simultaneous crash of thunder, which seemed to shake the ground beneath them, the heavy rumble continuing to reverberate among the hills for at least half a minute. The rain again left off. Ingrid glanced round at her cousin, with fearless candour in her eyes. "I've been puzzling over that last remark of yours, Hugh. Was it meant dryly? " He remembered what he had said.