pses,
freed from newly opened graves. Some could only reach their knees;
others rose to uncertain limbs. And all moved down the stairway toward
Corio, answering his summons; followed as he made his slow way toward
the opening in the wall, still blowing the single note--the note that
promised Earth and all it held....

Cliff glanced toward Vilma--and she was not there. He looked down, saw
her far below, dropping from crack to crevice with amazing speed and
daring, hastening toward--Corio!

The thought jarred any lingering taint of allurement from Cliff's
mind. He must stop her. He swung around, ignoring the cramped
stiffness of his legs, and started down the steep wall. Down, down,
recklessly, with Corio's horn-note only a faintly heard sound fading
behind him.

Now he saw Vilma reach the rocks below and dash around the corner of
the castle, and he cursed, redoubling his speed. Down--down--and
suddenly the ancient rock crumbled underfoot. For an instant he hung
from straining fingertips--then dropped.

A smashing impact--a stone that slid beneath him--and his head crashed
against the castle wall. Through a fiery mist of pain he pictured
Vilma in the grasp of Corio. The mist thickened--grew black--engulfed
him.

_4. In Corio's Hands_

Cliff awoke with the sun glaring down on his face. He opened his eyes,
and stabbing lances of light pierced his eyeballs. Momentarily
blinded, he pressed his hands across his face and struggled erect.
There was a sick feeling in his stomach, and the back of his head
throbbed incessantly. He touched the aching area, and winced. A lump
like an egg thrust out his scalp; it was sticky with blood. He stood
there, weaving from side to side, trying to recall something....

As memory came, he groaned. Vilma! He had last seen her racing madly
toward Corio, lured by his damned horn. It was daylight now; the sun
had risen at least an hour ago. An hour--with Vilma gone!

Shaking his head to clear it, and gritting his teeth at the pain, he
stalked along the wall. Turning the corner he strode on toward the
crooked steps. The lifeless terrain reeled dizzily, but he went on
resolutely. The pain in his head was fading to a dull ache; and as he
mounted the steps, strength seemed to flow back into his legs. With
every sense taut he passed into the gloom of the castle.

A quick glance he cast about--saw the body of Starke lying where it
had fallen. No use to examine it; there was no life there. Hi