he rest of us are in the same
class, so there is no jealousy among the slaves."

"What is Zog like?" Cap'n Bill questioned.

At this the boy laughed, and the laugh was full of mischief. "If I
could tell you what Zog is like, it would take me a year," was the
reply. "But I can't tell you. Every one has a different idea of what
he's like, and soon you will see him yourselves."

"Are you fond of him?" asked Trot.

"If I said yes, I'd get a good whipping," declared Sacho. "I am
commanded to hate Zog, and being a good servant, I try to obey. If
anyone dared to like Zog, I am sure he'd be instantly fed to the
turtles; so I advise you not to like him."

"Oh, we won't," promised Trot.

"But we're keeping the master waiting, and that is also a dangerous
thing to do," continued the boy. "If we don't hurry up, Zog will
begin to smile, and when he smiles there is trouble brewing."

The queen sighed. "Lead the way, Sacho," she said. "We will follow."

The boy bowed again, and going to an archway, held aside the
curtains for them. They first swam into a small anteroom which led
into a long corridor, at the end of which was another curtained
arch. Through this Sacho also guided them, and now they found
themselves in a cleverly constructed maze. Every few feet were
twists and turns and sharp corners, and sometimes the passage would
be wide, and again so narrow that they could just squeeze through in
single file. "Seems like we're gettin' further into the trap,"
growled Cap'n Bill. "We couldn't find our way out o' here to save
our lives."

"Oh yes we could," replied Clia, who was just behind him. "Such a
maze may indeed puzzle you, but the queen or I could lead you safely
through it again, I assure you. Zog is not so clever as he thinks
himself."

The sailor, however, found the maze very bewildering, and so did
Trot. Passages ran in every direction, crossing and recrossing, and
it seemed wonderful that the boy Sacho knew just which way to go.
But he never hesitated an instant. Trot looked carefully to see if
there were any marks to guide him, but every wall was of plain,
polished marble, and every turning looked just like all the others.
Suddenly Sacho stopped short. They were now in a broader passage,
but as they gathered around their conductor they found further
advance blocked. Solid walls faced them, and here the corridor
seemed to end.

"Enter!" said a clear voice.

"But we can't!" protested Trot.

"Swim straight