, saw Vilma stumble, and he hurled himself
forward furiously, gripping her arm.

"Hurry!" he shouted, striving to pierce the fog of sleep. "We've _got_
to get out! Damn him!"

Vilma rallied for an instant, and they reached the top of the stairs.
On--across that wide, wide room, each step a struggle.... On while the
droning sound floated languidly through every nerve cell.... On--till
their muscles could no longer move, and they sagged to the hard stone,
asleep.

* * * * *

Moments later Cliff opened his eyes to meet the hellish glare of Leon
Corio. Corio smiled thinly.

"So--you awaken. Good! I would have you know the fate I have planned
for you. You see this?" He held the cutlas high above Darrell's throat
like the blade of a guillotine. "With this I could end your life quite
painlessly and quickly. It really would prove entertaining for Miss
Bradley, I'm sure." He chuckled faintly behind bruised and swollen
lips.

Cliff squirmed, striving to rise, then subsided instantly. He was
bound hand and foot.

"I _could_ kill you," Corio repeated musingly, "but that would lack
finesse." His teeth bared in a feline smile. "And it would be such a
waste--of blood! Instead, I'll take you out to the galley and let you
lie there till her crew awakens tonight. They have tasted blood, and
after tonight will taste none again for another month. I imagine
they'll--drain you dry!" The last phrase was a vicious snarl.

Cliff heard Vilma utter a suppressed sob, and he turned his head. She
lay close by, bound like him with strips of leather. Furiously Cliff
strained at his fetters, but they held.

"And while you wait for those gentle Persians to awaken," Corio
continued in tones caressingly soft, "you can think of your sweetheart
in my arms! It may teach you not to strike your betters--though you
can never profit by your lesson."

Stooping, he raised Cliff's powerful form and managed to fling him
over one shoulder. Then he moved from the great hall, down the stone
steps, and across the dead plain with its sighing skeleton trees. He
was panting jerkily by the time he came to the fissure leading to the
cove, but he reached it, despite Cliff's two hundred pounds. Without
pausing, he went on into the cavern, along the rock ledge, to step at
last upon the deck of the black galley.

"Pleasant thoughts," he said gently as he dropped Cliff to the spongy
boards. "You have only to wait till dark!"

Cliff