n all true--whence had come their power to avert the
sacrifice at the very verge of its consummation?

"Love is stronger than all things!" had said Lakla.

Was it that they had needed, must have, the force which dwells within
love, within willing sacrifice, to strengthen their own power and to
enable them to destroy the evil, glorious Thing so long shielded by
their own love? Did the thought of sacrifice, the will toward
abnegation, have to be as strong as the eternals, unshaken by faintest
thrill of hope, before the Three could make of it their key to unlock
the Dweller's guard and strike through at its life?

Here was a mystery--a mystery indeed! Lakla softly closed the crimson
stone. The mystery of the red dwarf's appearance was explained when we
discovered a half-dozen of the water _coria_ moored in a small cove
not far from where the _Sekta_ flashed their heads of living bloom.
The dwarfs had borne the shallops with them, and from somewhere beyond
the cavern ledge had launched them unperceived; stealing up to the
farther side of the island and risking all in one bold stroke. Well,
Lugur, no matter what he held of wickedness, held also high courage.

The cavern was paved with the dead-alive, the _Akka_ carrying them out
by the hundreds, casting them into the waters. Through the lane down
which the Dweller had passed we went as quickly as we could, coming at
last to the space where the _coria_ waited. And not long after we
swung past where the shadow had hung and hovered over the shining
depths of the Midnight Pool.

Upon Lakla's insistence we passed on to the palace of Lugur, not to
Yolara's--I do not know why, but go there then she would not. And
within one of its columned rooms, maidens of the black-haired folks,
the wistfulness, the fear, all gone from their sparkling eyes, served
us.

There came to me a huge desire to see the destruction they had told us
of the Dweller's lair; to observe for myself whether it was not
possible to make a way of entrance and to study its mysteries.

I spoke of this, and to my surprise both the handmaiden and the
O'Keefe showed an almost embarrassed haste to acquiesce in my hesitant
suggestion.

"Sure," cried Larry, "there's lots of time before night!"

He caught himself sheepishly; cast a glance at Lakla.

"I keep forgettin' there's no night here," he mumbled.

"What did you say, Larry?" asked she.

"I said I wish we were sitting in our home in Ireland, watching the