Manchurian Books

Even under the electric light it shone softly, as though little
flecks of light were in it.
Throckmartin seemed only half-awake. He looked down at his breast,
saw the glowing cincture, and smiled.
"Yes," he said drowsily, "it's coming--to take me back to Edith!
Well, I'm glad."
"Throckmartin!" I cried. "Wake up! Fight!"
"Fight!" he said. "No use; come after us!"
He went to the port and sleepily drew aside the curtain. The moon
traced a broad path of light straight to the ship. Under its rays the
band around his chest gleamed brighter and brighter; shot forth little
rays; seemed to writhe.
The lights went out in the cabin; evidently also throughout the ship,
for I heard shoutings above.
Throckmartin still stood at the open port. Over his shoulder I saw a
gleaming pillar racing along the moon path toward us. Through the
window cascaded a blinding radiance. It gathered Throckmartin to it,
clothed him in a robe of living opalescence. Light pulsed through and
from him. The cabin filled with murmurings--
A wave of weakness swept over me, buried me in blackness.


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