of "Death" could be heard.

It was a tense moment. Would Hero Giles remain friendly? With poignant
anxiety, Nelson watched that dishevelled martial head sink forward in
perplexity.

"Hero Giles," he warned, in a low voice. "You'd better trust us.
You're risking nothing."

Slowly, the fierce blue eyes of the veteran rose, and, meeting the
level gray ones of the aviator, lingered there as though asking a
question. Suddenly reaching a determination, he rose to his feet and
addressed the triumphantly grinning arch-priest, who tightly clutched
his trident wand with thin, blue-veined fingers.

"Hearken, black crow of a priest, who has dared lay foul hands on His
Splendor, the Emperor. This is my reply: show me how ye will rescue
Altara; otherwise begone! My hand itches for the sword."

* * * * *

A deep silence fell while Herakles glowered helplessly, then shrewdly
avoided the trap. "This is blasphemy!" he croaked and raised a
quivering forefinger in solemn warning. "Woe to thee, Hero Giles. Woe
to the people! Fear the wrath of the Gods!

"Jeer not, ye nobles!" Herakles stormed on. "Be not deceived by lies!
I bid thee deliver these magicians to Ares, God of War!"

A nasty moment; Nelson's heart drummed as he gazed down at the row of
uneasy, war-like faces, but Hero Giles proved the strength of his
heritage. Back went his patrician head; he drew himself up to full
height and stared coldly upon the black robed priest, who, nothing
daunted, gave back look for look.

"Nay! We keep them: they will bear out their promise. I give ye good
day, oh Holiness!"

Quivering with rage Herakles raised his withered hand in anathema.
"Then perish, blind spawn of Hudson! Verily shall ye all die under the
torture. Woe! Woe! Woe!"

Then, amid a strained silence, pregnant of distrust and disaster, the
old man wheeled and stalked out.

As he watched the departure, color drained from the Atlantean prince's
haggard features. "Ah," he observed bitterly, "ever have these black
crows feasted on our land, and ever as birds of ill omen." He turned
and, with a weary sigh, surveyed the group of loyal, but anxious
souls. "I thank ye. Will ye still do my bidding and help to save our
sovereign lord?"

Out flashed the swords of a dozen-odd nobles as they raised the
hoarse, ringing cry of "Altorius! Altorius! Supreme!"

* * * * *

A little later Nelson, before a very mistrustful g