I think that he saw tears in my eyes, for he seemed to understand then that it was he who was crying, and I think that he still nurtured some hope concerning his condition which my tears of pity dissipated, for suddenly he uttered a raucous cry which was supposed to be a sob, and with the hand that I had not crushed, in a gesture of despair, a tragic and truly hopeless gesture, seizing the tooth and his lips, ironically and as if in jest, he suddenly tore out a great strip of flesh and fell back, dead.

That evening, as a sign of mourning and farewell, we burned the ship. Night was approaching majestically, moving in slowly. The flames leapt up triumphantly; the sea was aflame; the great masts and beams burned and then, the vessel having been consumed, the purple flames sank once again. Leaving the irreparable past, we set out for the polar sea.

Silence of night on the snow. Nocturnal silence. Solitude, and you, calm relief of death. Vast timeless plain; the sun’s last rays have withdrawn. All shapes are frozen; cold holds sway on the calm plain, and stillness—and stillness. And serenity. O pure rapture of our souls! Nothing stirs in the air, but a congealed radiance emanates from the glistening icebergs and hovers in the air. All is pale nocturnal blue—shall I say lunar blue?

The moon. Alone in these ecstatic surroundings, I prayed. “Ellis! Ellis! you* who are not the one whom I have found; sweet Ellis, is it here that you have been waiting for me? I would go still farther, but I am waiting for you to speak—and all will soon be over.”

I sought her lost figure—and my soul spoke its prayer. Then the night reclaimed its silence, and all its serenity.

Then why await the dawn? No one knows when it will come. There is no time for waiting. After sleeping for a little while, we set out by night for the pole.

Deposits of pure gypsum! Salt quarries! Tombstone-white marble! Mical All is whiteness in the dark. Light hoarfrosts, smiling by day and flashing like gems by night! Snowdrifts! Congealed avalanches! Dunes of moondust, eider feathers on sea foam, icecaps with taciturn hopes!

The hours glided by as we walked slowly through the snow; our grave, unhurried gestures emphasized the solemnity of our undertaking. Thus all seven of us—Alain, Axel, Morgain, Nathanaël, Ydier, Eric and I—moved toward our tasks.

Eric and the others were sleeping; the hut was calm; outside, a starless night on the vast rimy plain; above the plain, because of its whiteness, the night had grown somewhat pale; a faint gleam rimmed the earth; I sought a place to pray. As I was kneeling and beginning my prayer, I saw Ellis. She was sitting on a rock nearby, pensive; her dress was snow-covered, her hair blacker than the night.

“Ellis! So it is you,” I sobbed. “Oh, I knew it was you!”

But she remained silent, and I said to her:

“Do you know what sad experiences I have lived through since I lost you? What desolate regions I have crossed since your hand ceased to guide me? One day, on the bank of a stream, I thought I had again found you, but it was only a woman. Oh, forgive me! I have longed for you for so long. Where will you lead me now through this night near the pole, Ellis, my sister?”

“Come,” she said to me. And taking me by the hand, she led me to the top of a tall rock from which the sea was visible. I looked, and suddenly the night was torn asunder as a vast aurora borealis spread out over the waves. It was reflected in the sea; there was a silent trickling of phosphorus, a calm precipitation of flashes; and the silence of these astounding splendors was like the voice of God.* It seemed that the purple and pink flames, incessantly agitated, were a palpitation of the Divine Will. All was silent; my dazzled eyes closed; but Ellis put her finger on my eyelids, and when I opened my eyes, I could no longer see anything except her.

“Urien! Urien, sad brother! You who have always dreamed only of me! Remember the games we once played. Why did you have the urge in a moment of boredom to chase after my fortuitous image? You must have known that that was neither the time nor the place to possess. I await you beyond time, where the snows are eternal; we shall have crowns of snow, not garlands of flowers. Your voyage will come to an end, my brother.