fe still remained in his rugged body. Even the cruel test of the last
hour had not taken that from him. The sturdy heart still beat, and the
breath still whispered through his lips: there was life in plenty to
afford such sport as Ray and Chan might have for him.

The last, least quality of redemption--such magic and beauty as might
have been wrought by the firelight dancing over the moonlit glade--was
quite gone now. The powers of wickedness were in the ascendency, and
this was only the abode of horror. Yet it was all tragically true, not a
nightmare from which she would soon waken. This was the remote heart of
Back There--a primeval land where the demons of lust and death walked
unrestrained--and the shadow of the moonlit trees fell dark upon her.

The back logs were burning dully now, and the coals were red, and Chan
and Ray took seats on a huge, dead spruce to talk over their further
plans. It was all easy enough. They could linger here, living mostly on
meat, until the rising waters of the Yuga could carry them down to the
Indian villages. Their methods and procedure in regard to Ben were the
only remaining questions.

For a few minutes they took little notice of the prone figures at the
far edge of the fading firelight. In their hands they were as helpless
as Jeffery Neilson, left already by the receding radiance to the soft
mercy of the shadows. Attention could be given them soon enough. Their
own triumph was beginning to give way to deep fatigue.

Ben and Beatrice had talked softly at first, accepting their fate at
last and trying to forget all things but the fact of each other's
presence. They had kept the faith to-night, they had both been true; and
perhaps they had conquered, in some degree, the horror of death. His
right hand held hers close to his lips, and only she could understand
the message in its soft pressure, and the gentle, kindly shadows in his
quiet eyes. But presently her gaze fastened on some object in the grass
beside him.

He did not understand at first. He knew enough not to attract his
enemies' attention by trying to turn. The girl relaxed again, but her
hand throbbed in his, and her eyes shone somberly as if the luster of
some strange, dark hope.

"What is it?" he asked whispering.

"I see a way out--for us both," she told him. She knew he would not
misunderstand and dream that she saw an actual avenue to life and
safety. "Don't give any sign."

"Then hurry," he urged. "They may be