" he said, almost quietly. He glanced at Forrester and
went on, in the same tone: "Don't give away everything you've got,
chum."

A second passed and then he took the hand away. Kathy said nothing at
all for a moment, and then she nodded.

"All right," she said. "You're right. We shouldn't be losing our tempers
just now. But I didn't start--"

"Didn't you?" the stranger said.

Kathy shrugged. "Well, never mind it now." She turned to Forrester. "You
know who we are now, don't you?"

Forrester nodded very slowly. How else could the man have come through
the cordon of Myrmidons and seen them in the darkness? How else would he
have dared to face up to Dionysus--confident that he could beat him? And
how else could all this argument have gone on without anyone hearing it?

For that matter, why else would the argument have begun--unless the
stranger and Kathy were--

"Sure," he said, as if he had known it all along. "You're Mars and
Venus."

He could feel cold death approaching.

CHAPTER TEN

William Forrester sat, quite alone, in the room which had been given him
on Mount Olympus. He stared out of the window, a little smaller than the
window in Venus' rooms, at the Grecian plain far below, without actually
seeing. There was no vertigo this time; small matters like that couldn't
bother him.

The whole room was rather a small one, as Gods' rooms went, but it had
the same varicolored shifting walls, the same furniture that appeared
when you approached it. Forrester was beginning to get used to it now,
and he didn't know if it was going to do him any good.

He peered down, trying to discern the patrolling Myrmidons around the
base and lower slopes of the mountain, placed there to discourage
overeager climbers from trying to reach the home of the Gods. Of course
he couldn't see them, and after a while he lost interest again. Matters
were too serious to allow time for that kind of game.

The Autumn Bacchanal was over, a thing of the past, on the way to the
distortion of legend. Forrester's greatest triumph had ended--in his
greatest fiasco.

He closed his eyes as he sat in his room, the fluctuating colors on the
walls going unappreciated. He had nothing to do now except wait for the
final judgment of the Gods.

At first he had been terrified. But terror could only last so long, and,
as the time ticked by, the idea of that coming judgment had almost
stopped troubling his mind. Either he had passed the tes