"I mind how he sat on the grass, his voice drifting faint and small like a babe's crying. He told us nothing of what he was or whence he came, for his soul was possessed of a revelation. 'These be the hills of God,'he cried. 'In a little you will come to a city of the old kings where gold is as plentiful as sand of the sea.There they sit frozen in metal waiting the judgment.Yet they are already judged, and, I take it, justified, for the dead men sit as warders of a greater treasurehouse.