f that tranquil spirit which her vengeance
had banished but that had now returned to its twin thrones of Norhala's
eyes.

And at last it was twin sister of Norhala who looked upon her from the
face of Ruth!

The white arms of the woman encircled her; the glorious head bent over
her; flaming tresses mingled with tender brown curls.

"Sister!" she whispered. "Little sister! These men you shall have as
long as it pleases you--to do with as you will. Or if it is your wish
they shall go back to their world and I will guard them to its gates.

"But you and I, little sister, will dwell together--in the
vastnesses--in the peace. Shall it not be so?"

With no faltering, with no glance toward us three--lover, brother, old
friend--Ruth crept closer to her, rested her head upon the virginal,
royal breasts.

"It shall be so!" she murmured. "Sister--it shall be so. Norhala--I am
tired. Norhala--I have seen enough of men."

An ecstasy of tenderness, a flame of unearthly rapture, trembled over
the woman's wondrous face. Hungrily, defiantly, she pressed the girl to
her; the stars in the lucid heavens of her eyes were soft and gentle and
caressing.

"Ruth!" cried Drake--and sprang toward them. She paid no heed; and even
as he leaped he was caught, whirled back against us.

"Wait," said Ventnor, and caught him by the arm as wrathfully,
blindedly, he strove against the force that held him. "Wait. No
use--now."

There was a curious understanding in his voice--a curious sympathy,
too, in the patient, untroubled gaze that dwelt upon his sister and this
weirdly exquisite woman who held her.

"Wait!" exclaimed Drake. "Wait--hell! The damned witch is stealing her
away from us!"

Again he threw himself forward; recoiled as though swept back by an
invisible arm; fell against us and was clasped and held by Ventnor. And
as he struggled the Thing we rode halted. Like metal waves back into it
rushed the enigmatic billows that had washed over the fragments of the
city.

We were lifted; between us and the woman and girl a cleft appeared; it
widened into a rift. It was as though Norhala had decreed it as a symbol
of this her second victory--or had set it between us as a barrier.

Wider grew the rift. Save for the bridge of our voices it separated us
from Ruth as though she stood upon another world.

Higher we rose; the three of us now upon the flat top of a tower upon
whose counterpart fifty feet away and facing the homeward path, R