some of
our captives live from full moon to full moon before they become like
those of the galley--the undead. Some of these we waken when it suits
our fancy; they are not like the Masters; they awaken only when we
call them--we three or the Masters.

"More than life they give us for what we do. Centuries ago pirates
used this island for refuge. They--died--and they left their treasure
in this castle. It lies in the room where the Masters lie; and we
three receive payment in gold and gems. Tonight I receive my pay, and
tomorrow I leave on the _Ariel_--and you go with me!"

Cliff heard Vilma answer, and even while his heart leaped with relief,
he marveled at the cool scorn in her voice.

"So I go with you, do I? I'd rather climb the stairs with the rest of
your victims than have anything to do with you--you monster! When
Cliff Darrell finds you----"

"Darrell!" Corio's voice was a frozen sneer. "He'll do nothing! I'll
find _him_--and he'll wish he could climb the stairs of blood! As for
you, you'll go with me, and like it! A drop of my blood in your veins,
and you will belong to the Master, as I do. We shall attend to that;
but first there is something else--more pleasant." His words fell to
an indistinguishable purr.

Still moving stealthily, Cliff hastened forward. Suddenly Vilma
screamed; and he launched himself madly across the remaining distance,
stood crouching at the threshold.

Vilma lay on an ancient bed, her wrists and ankles bound with leather
thongs drawn about the four tall bed-posts. Only the torn remnants of
her under-garments covered the rounded contours of her body, and Corio
crouched over her, caressing the pink flesh. Vilma writhed beneath his
touch.

* * * * *

Cliff growled deep in his throat as he sprang. Corio spun around and
leaped aside, but he was too slow to escape Cliff's powerful lunge.
One hand closed on his thin neck, and the other, a rock-like fist,
made a bloody ruin of his mouth. Howling with pain, Corio tried to
sink his teeth in Cliff's arm.

Cliff flung him aside, following with the easy glide of a boxer. Corio
crawled to his feet, cringing, dodging before the nemesis that stalked
him. Again Cliff leaped, and Corio, yellow with fear, darted around
the bed and ran wildly into the hallway. At the door Cliff checked
himself, reason holding him. Corio could elude him with ease in this
labyrinth of passages; and his first concern was Vilma's safet