m under his feet.

A voice dragged him back into life--a voice that boomed in his ears like
rolling thunder and set every fiber in him quivering with emotion. He
drew himself erect with the involuntary strength of one mastering the
last spasm of death and as they dragged him through the door he saw
there within an arm's reach of him the great, living face of Strang,
gloating at him as if from out of a mist--red eyed, white fanged, filled
with the vengefulness of a beast.

The great voice rumbled in his ears again.

"Take that man to the dungeon!"

CHAPTER X

WINNSOME'S VERDICT OF DEATH

The voice--the condemning words--followed Nathaniel as he staggered on
between his two guards; it haunted him still as the cold chill of the
rotting dungeon walls struck in his face; it remained with him as he
stood swaying alone in the thick gloom--the voice rumbling in his ears,
the words beating against his brain until the shock of them sickened
him, until he stretched out his arms and there fell from him such a cry
as had never tortured his lips before.

Strang was alive! He had left the spark of life in him, and the woman
who loved him had fanned it back into full flame.

Strang was alive! And Marion--Marion was his wife!

The voice of the king taunted him from the black chaos that hid the
dungeon walls. The words struck at him, filling his head with shooting
pain, and he tottered back and sank to the ground to get away from them.
They followed, and that vengeful leer of the king was behind them,
urging them on, until they beat his face into the sticky earth, and
smothered him into what he thought was death.

There came rest after that, a long silent rest. When Nathaniel slowly
climbed up out of the ebon shadows again the first consciousness that
came to him was that the word-demons had stopped their beating against
his brain and that he no longer heard the voice of the king. His relief
was so great that he breathed a restful sigh. Something touched him
then. Great God! were they coming back? Were they still
there--waiting--waiting--

It was a wonderfully familiar voice that spoke to him.

"Hello there, Nat! Want a drink?"

He gulped eagerly at the cool liquid that touched his lips.

"Neil," he whispered.

"It's me, Nat. They chucked me in with you. Hell's hole, isn't it?"

Nathaniel sat up, Neil's strong arm at his back. There was a light in
the room now and he could see his companion's face, smiling at