e hesitated as though at loss for
words--"the--the Fire Play."

"The Fire Play?" I gasped.

"Yes," she nodded. "You shall see it. And now I will take him to my
house. You are safe--now, nor need you trouble. For he has given you to
me."

"Who has given us to you--Norhala?" I asked, as calmly as I could.

"He"--she nodded to the Disk, then spoke the phrase that was both
ancient Assyria's and ancient Persia's title for their all-conquering
rulers, and that meant--"the King of Kings. The Great King, Master of
Life and Death."

She took Ruth from Drake's arms, pointing to Ventnor.

"Bear him," she commanded, and led the way back through the walls of
light.

As we lifted the body, I slipped my hand through the shirt, felt at the
heart. Faint was the pulsation and slow, but regular.

Close to the encircling vapors I cast one look behind me. The shapes
stood immobile, flashing disks, gigantic radiant stars and the six great
spheres beneath their geometric super-Euclidean god or shrine or machine
of interwoven threads of luminous force and metal--still motionless,
still watching.

We emerged into the place of pillars. There stood the hooded pony and
its patience, its uncomplaining acceptance of its place as servant to
man brought a lump into my throat, salved, I suppose, my human vanity,
abased as it had been by the colossal indifference of those things to
which we were but playthings.

Again Norhala sent forth her call. Out of the maze glided her quintette
of familiars; again the four clicked into one. Upon its top we lifted,
Drake ascending first, the pony; then the body of Ventnor.

I saw Norhala lead Ruth to the remaining cube; saw the girl break away
from her, leap beside me, and kneeling at her brother's head, cradle
it against her soft breast. Then as I found in the medicine case the
hypodermic needle and the strychnine for which I had been searching, I
began my examination of Ventnor.

The cubes quivered--swept away through the forest of columns.

We crouched, the three of us, blind to anything that lay about us,
heedless of whatever road of wonders we were on, striving to strengthen
in Ventnor the spark of life so near extinction.

CHAPTER XII. "I WILL GIVE YOU PEACE"

In our concentration upon Ventnor none of us had given thought to the
passing of time, nor where we were going. We stripped him to the waist,
and while Ruth massaged head and neck, Drake's strong fingers kneaded
chest and abdome