worse than death."

"What's the story?" asked Orme of Higgs.

"A simple one enough," he answered. "We got here all right, as we told
you over the wire. Then Maqueda talked to you for a long while until
you rang off, saying you wanted to speak to Japhet. After that, at ten
o'clock precisely, we heard the thud of the explosion. Next, as we were
preparing to go out to see what had happened, Joshua arrived alone,
announced that the idol Harmac had been destroyed, and demanded that
the Child of Kings, 'for State reasons,' should accompany him to his own
castle. She declined and, as he insisted, I took it upon myself to kick
him out of the place. He retired, and we saw no more of him, but a few
minutes later there came a shower of arrows down the passage, and after
them a rush of men, who called, 'Death to the Gentiles. Rescue the
Rose.'

"So we began to shoot and knocked over a lot of them, but Quick got
that arrow through his shoulder. Three times they came on like that, and
three times we drove them back. At last our cartridges ran low, and we
only had our revolvers left, which we emptied into them. They hung a
moment, but moved forward again, and all seemed up.

"Then Quick went mad. He snatched the sword of a dead Abati and ran at
them roaring like a bull. They hacked and cut at him, but the end of
it was that he drove them right out of the passage, while I followed,
firing past him.

"Well, those who were left of the blackguards bolted, and when they had
gone the Sergeant tumbled down. The women and I carried him back here,
but he never said another word, and at last you turned up. Now he's
gone, God rest him, for if ever there was a hero in this world he was
christened Samuel Quick!" and, turning aside, the Professor pushed up
the blue spectacles he always wore on to his forehead, and wiped his
eyes with the back of his hand.

With grief more bitter than I can describe we lifted up the body of the
gallant Quick and, bearing it into Maqueda's private apartment, placed
it on her own bed, for she insisted that the man who had died to protect
her should be laid nowhere else. It was strange to see the grim old
soldier, whose face, now that I had washed his wounds, looked calm and
even beautiful, laid out to sleep his last sleep upon the couch of the
Child of Kings. That bed, I remember, was a rich and splendid thing,
made of some black wood inlaid with scrolls of gold, and having hung
about it curtains of white net e