e of Pleasant Death while the men made ready for battle with the
Black Ones. For three days they fought, but a new weapon of the Black
Ones won the day, and the chief of the Black Ones set up this throne of
jet as proof of his power. Since, however, the Black Ones were not happy
in the Caverns, longing for the darkness of their caves, they soon
withdrew and we, the Folk, came forth again.

"But now the time has come when the dark ones will sacrifice the
Daughter to their evil. If you can win her free, outlander, they shall
perish as if they had not been."

"What of the Ancient Ones?" asked Garin--"those others Thran said would
be saved?"

"Of those we know nothing save that when we bore the bodies of the
fallen to the Place of Ancestors there were some missing. That you may
see the truth of this story, Urg will take you to the gallery above the
Room of Pleasant Death and you may look upon those who sleep there."

Urg guiding, Garin climbed a steep ramp leading from the Hall of
Thrones. This led to a narrow balcony, one side of which was clear
crystal. Urg pointed down.

They were above a long room whose walls were tinted jade green. On the
polished floor were scattered piles of cushions. Each was occupied by a
sleeping woman and several of these clasped a child in their arms. Their
long hair rippled to the floor, their curved lashes made dark shadows on
pale faces.

"But they are sleeping!" protested Garin.

Urg shook his head. "It is the sleep of death. Twice each ten hours
vapors rise from the floor. Those breathing them do not wake again, and
if they are undisturbed they will lie thus for a thousand years. Look
there--"

He pointed to the closed double doors of the room. There lay the first
men of the Ancient Ones Garin had seen. They, too, seemed but asleep,
their handsome heads pillowed on their arms.

"Thran ordered those who remained after the last battle in the Hall of
Thrones to enter the Room of Pleasant Death that the Black Ones might
not torture them for their beastly pleasures. Thran himself remained
behind to close the door, and so died."

There were no aged among the sleepers. None of the men seemed to count
more than thirty years and many of them appeared younger. Garin remarked
upon this.

"The Ancient Ones appeared thus until the day of their death, though
many lived twice a hundred years. The light rays kept them so. Even we
of the Folk can hold back age. But come now, our Lord Trar woul