; so far that we may not hope to escape if we
ascend to the roofs here."

"I think," replied the man, "that of all the places in Oo-oh this will
be the easiest to escape from. Anyway, I want to return to the place
of the yellow door and get my pistol if it is there."

"It is still there," replied, the girl. "I saw it placed in a chest
where he keeps the things he takes from his prisoners and victims."

"Good!" exclaimed Bradley. "Now come, quickly." And the two crossed
the room to the well and ascended the ladder a short distance to its
top where they found another door that opened into a vacant room--the
same in which Bradley had first met the girl. To find the pistol was a
matter of but a moment's search on the part of Bradley's companion; and
then, at the Englishman's signal, she followed him to the yellow door.

It was quite dark without as the two entered the narrow passage between
two buildings. A few steps brought them undiscovered to the doorway of
the storeroom where lay the body of Fosh-bal-soj. In the distance,
toward the temple, they could hear sounds as of a great gathering of
Wieroos--the peculiar, uncanny wailing rising above the dismal flapping
of countless wings.

"They have heard of the killing of Him Who Speaks for Luata," whispered
the girl. "Soon they will spread in all directions searching for us."

"And will they find us?"

"As surely as Lua gives light by day," she replied; "and when they find
us, they will tear us to pieces, for only the Wieroos may murder--only
they may practice tas-ad."

"But they will not kill you," said Bradley. "You did not slay him."

"It will make no difference," she insisted. "If they find us together
they will slay us both."

"Then they won't find us together," announced Bradley decisively. "You
stay right here--you won't be any worse off than before I came--and
I'll get as far as I can and account for as many of the beggars as
possible before they get me. Good-bye! You're a mighty decent little
girl. I wish that I might have helped you."

"No," she cried. "Do not leave me. I would rather die. I had hoped
and hoped to find some way to return to my own country. I wanted to go
back to An-Tak, who must be very lonely without me; but I know that it
can never be. It is difficult to kill hope, though mine is nearly
dead. Do not leave me."

"An-Tak!" Bradley repeated. "You loved a man called An-Tak?"

"Yes," replied the girl. "An-Tak was aw