just
at the last----"

Aura laid a hand upon her sister's shoulder.

"Wait, my sister," she said gently. "There is no matter of justice
here--for you, a woman--to decide. This is for men to deal with--a
matter for men--our men. And what they say to do--that must be done."

She turned to the Chemist and the Very Young Man, who were standing side
by side.

"A woman--cannot kill," she said slowly. "Unless--her man--says it so.
Or if to save him----"

Her eyes flashed fire; she held her slim little body erect and rigid--an
Amazon ready to fight to the death for those she loved.

The Chemist hesitated a moment. Before he could answer, a single shrill
cry sounded from somewhere out in the silent, menacing throng. As though
at a signal, a thousand little voices took it up, and with a great rush
the crowd swept forward.

In the first moment of surprise and indecision the group of fugitives
stood motionless. As the wave of little, struggling human forms closed
in around them, the Very Young Man came to himself with a start. He
looked down. They were black around him now, swaying back and forth
about his legs. Most of them were men, armed with the short,
broad-bladed swords, or with smaller knives. Some brandished other
improvised weapons; still others held rocks in their hands.

A little pair of arms clutched the Very Young Man about his leg; he gave
a violent kick, scattering a number of the struggling figures and
clearing a space into which he leaped.

"Back--Aura, Lylda," he shouted. "Take Loto and Eena. Get back behind
us."

The Big Business Man, kicking violently, and sometimes stooping down to
sweep the ground with great swings of his arm, had cleared a space
before them. Taking Loto, who looked on with frightened eyes, the three
women stepped back against the side wall of the amphitheater.

The Very Young Man swiftly discarded his robe, standing in the knitted
under-suit in which he had swam the lake; the other men followed his
example. For ten minutes or more in ceaseless waves, the little
creatures threw themselves forward, and were beaten back. The confined
space echoed with their shouts, and with the cries of the wounded. The
five men fought silently. Once the Doctor stumbled and fell. Before his
friends could get to him, his body was covered with his foes. When he
got back upon his feet, knocking them off, he was bleeding profusely
from an ugly-looking wound in his shoulder.

"Good God!" he panted as