llustration]

Two more of the palanquin bearers went down, and the palanquin itself
began to topple. The Greatest Noble screamed as he fell toward the
commander.

One of the commander's men spun around as he heard the scream so close
to him, and, thinking that the Greatest Noble was attacking his
commander, lunged out with his blade.

It was almost a disaster. Moving quickly, the commander threw out his
left arm to deflect the sword. He succeeded, but he got a bad slash
across his hand for his trouble.

He yelled angrily at the surprised soldier, not caring what he said.
Meanwhile, the others of the squad, seeing that the Greatest Noble had
fallen, hurried to surround him. Two minutes later, the Greatest Noble
was a prisoner, being half carried, half led into the central building
by four of the men, while the remaining six fought a rear-guard action
to hold off the native warriors who were trying to rescue the sacred
person of the Child of the Sun.

Once inside, the Greatest Noble was held fast while the doors were swung
shut.

Outside, the slaughter went on. All the resistance seemed to go out of
the warriors when they saw their sacred monarch dragged away by the
invading Earthmen. It was every man for himself and the Devil take the
hindmost. And the Devil, in the form of the commander's troops,
certainly did.

Within half an hour after it had begun, the butchery was over. More than
three thousand of the natives had died, and an unknown number more badly
wounded. Those who had managed to get out and get away from the city
kept on going. They told the troops who had been left outside what had
happened, and a mass exodus from the valley began.

Safely within the fortifications of the central building, the commander
allowed himself one of his rare grins of satisfaction. Not a single one
of his own men had been killed, and the only wound which had been
sustained by anyone in the company was the cut on his own hand. Still
smiling, he went into the room where the Greatest Noble, dazed and
shaken, was being held by two of the commander's men. The commander
bowed--this time, very low.

"I believe, Your Effulgence, that we have an appointment for dinner.
Come, the banquet has been laid."

And, as though he were still playing the gracious host, the commander
led the half-paralyzed Child of the Sun to the room where the banquet
had been put on a table in perfect diplomatic array.

"Your Effulgence may sit at my rig