fe murmur. "Lakla of the golden eyes--no
Eilidh--the Fair!" He made an immense effort, half raised himself,
grinned faintly.

"Thought this was paradise when I first saw it, Doc," he sighed. "But
I know now, if it is, No-Man's Land was the greatest place on earth
for a honeymoon. They--they've got us, Doc--" He sank back. "Good
luck, old boy, wherever you're going." His hand waved feebly.
"Glad--knew--you. Hope--see--you--'gain--"

His voice trailed into silence. Fighting, fighting with every fibre
of brain and nerve against the sleep, I felt myself being steadily
overcome. Yet before oblivion rushed down upon me I seemed to see upon
the grey-screened wall nearest the Irishman an oval of rosy light
begin to glow; watched, as my falling lids inexorably fell, a
flame-tipped shadow waver on it; thicken; condense--and there looking
down upon Larry, her eyes great golden stars in which intensest
curiosity and shy tenderness struggled, sweet mouth half smiling, was
the girl of the Moon Pool's Chamber, the girl whom the green dwarf had
named--Lakla: the vision Larry had invoked before that sleep which I
could no longer deny had claimed him--

Closer she came--closer---the eyes were over us.

Then oblivion indeed!

CHAPTER XVI

Yolara of Muria vs. the O'Keefe

I awakened with all the familiar, homely sensation of a shade having
been pulled up in a darkened room. I thrilled with a wonderful sense
of deep rest and restored resiliency. The ebon shadow had vanished
from above and down into the room was pouring the silvery light. From
the fountain pool came a mighty splashing and shouts of laughter. I
jumped and drew the curtain. O'Keefe and Rador were swimming a wild
race; the dwarf like an otter, out-distancing and playing around the
Irishman at will.

Had that overpowering sleep--and now I confess that my struggle
against it had been largely inspired by fear that it was the abnormal
slumber which Throckmartin had described as having heralded the
approach of the Dweller before it had carried away Thora and
Stanton--had that sleep been after all nothing but natural reaction of
tired nerves and brains?

And that last vision of the golden-eyed girl bending over Larry? Had
that also been a delusion of an overstressed mind? Well, it might have
been, I could not tell. At any rate, I decided, I would speak about it
to O'Keefe once we were alone again--and then giving myself up to the
urge of buoyant well-being I shou