her
spell, for his lips were smiling, bantering.

But he rose obediently, and stepped from the balcony to the upraised
dais. Around his neck the Red Woman wound her arms--white arms stained
red by the lurid light.

A flash! I did not see from whence it came; but within me some
subconscious impulse made me drop to the floor. The light from overhead
was out. Momentary darkness. A woman's scream of terror. Then others.
The sound of running feet; bodies falling. Panic in the crowd. Confusion
everywhere.

Then light from somewhere came on. People were tramping me. I fought
them off, climbed to my feet. On the dais the Red Woman lay dead.
Huddled in a heap, with a brand of black searing her forehead. _Slaans_
were leaping about the room--huge, half-naked men--brandishing primitive
knives. Flashing steel, buried in the backs of the fleeing merry-makers.
Other figures--Earth men they seemed--gripping the _slaans_, staying
their murderous fury.

Tarrano? I did not see him at first. The air above the floor of the
pavilion was full of snapping sparks--a battle of some unknown rays. The
mirrors were shattered: glass from them was falling about me. Then, in
the semi-gloom on the balcony, Tarrano's figure materialized. Invisible
before, the hostile rays upon it now made it apparent. But Tarrano
seemed proof against the rays. I could see he was unharmed; and as he
stood there, no doubt using a curved, duplicating beam, the like of
which I have seen used in warfare, the image of him seemed to shift.
Then it doubled--two images, one here, one further down the balcony.
Then still others--appearing and disappearing, always in different
places, until no one could have said where the man himself really was. A
dozen Tarranos, each enveloped in hostile sparks, each with his face
grinning at us in mockery.

Abruptly, I heard Georg's voice shout above the din: "Elza! Elza is
gone!"

The images of Tarrano faded. He, too, was gone.

And then I saw Maida on the balcony, standing with upraised arms. Her
voice rang out.

"Down with Tarrano! Death to Tarrano!" And then her pleading command:

"_Slaans_, no more bloodshed! Be loyal, _slaans_, to your Princess
Maida!"

And Georg calling: "Loyalty, everyone, to your Princess Maida. Loyalty!
Loyalty!"

CHAPTER XXIII

_First Retreat_

I must recount now what Elza later told me, going back to those moments
when Elza sat upon the balcony watching Tarrano and the Red Woman. The
si