his underlings, the Duca wore about his waist the living flame
of a girdle composed of alternate cut diamonds and blood red rubies each
larger than a golf ball. And Kirby, searching for comparisons, realized
that the Duca's face, upheld to others, would be as remarkable as his
jewels must be when compared to ordinary gems. It was a chiseled face,
seamed by a thousand wrinkles, which a god might have carved from ivory
before endowing it with the flush and glow of life. A mane of snow white
hair cascaded back from a tremendous forehead to fall about thin but
square shoulders and mingle with the downward sweep of pure white
beard. The eyes, black as polished jet, flamed now with the glare of
baleful fires.

As Naida, stealing close to Kirby, trembled, and even the abased
caciques trembled, Kirby himself felt as if icy water was trickling over
him.

He fought the sensation off. For suddenly he knew that in spite of first
impressions which made the man seem a living god, the old Duca was
human. And what was more, he was in the wrong. All of which being true,
the thing to do was keep a level head and fight.

* * * * *

All at once Kirby spoke across the silence in the great room.

"I have sent for you," he said, weighing words carefully.

"And I,"--the Duca's voice was mellow and deep--"have come. But I am not
here because you summoned me."

"Oh!" Kirby let sarcasm edge his words. "Well, I won't quibble about
your motives for coming. Did my messenger tell you why we are here and
demand your presence?"

"Your messenger," the old man said calmly, "told me."

"Very well. Do you consent to listen to Naida's and my terms? If you
_will_ listen--"

"But wait a moment," the Duca interrupted, still calmly, but with a look
in his eyes which Kirby did not like. "Are you asking _me_, to my face,
whether I will listen to terms which you offer as self-styled victor of
a battle with my caciques?"

Kirby nodded. His apprehension increased.

"Ah," said the Duca softly. And then, amazingly, a smile deepened every
wrinkle of his parchment face. "But do you not remember that I said I
had _not_ come here because you summoned me?"

"Yes," Kirby said solidly. "I remember very well."

"The thing which brought me here was the failure of my followers to
accomplish an assignment which I had given them--namely, that of ending
your life."

"Hum." Kirby scratched behind his ear. "You are _not_ interested