the frantic faces of the people who struggled to get out
of their reach. The altar was deserted, save for the girl who still
lay on the hand of the idol....

* * * * *

Wes Craig, a blur in the wavering shadows, darted to her side. His
dagger sped through the cords that bound her, and he lifted her slight
form down. For a moment she clung to him.

"I knew thou wouldst come, Divine One!" she whispered. "I knew!"

He smiled for answer, gripped her hand, and then swiftly led her along
the least crowded wall of the Temple towards the door, packed with a
frantic, struggling crowd of soldiers, people and priests.

The deceptive shadows thrown by the flames were kind to them; for some
time no one in the whole crowd recognized the two. Everyone was
reacting in a blind panic of fear from the mysterious thunders that
had killed their High Priest, splintered the lamps, and caused the
resultant inferno of leaping fire. But discovery was inevitable, and
at last one did see the fleeing pair--one who had kept his head and
was looking for them. It was Shabako. He roared:

"The stranger escapes--and the girl! There, there! Hold them!"

His imperative shout brought a measure of control to the soldiers, who
were fighting to get through the doorway. They grouped uncertainly
together, gripping their swords and staring wildly around. They saw,
in the ruddy light of the flames, a grim-faced man pressing into them,
holding in one hand a stubby black object, and in the other the arm of
the sacrifice, Taia.

* * * * *

Wes cursed, and, forgetting that the warriors understood no English,
ordered them in that tongue to make way for him. For answer, one of
them leaped out at him, his sword swinging up. Craig's face set; he
levelled the automatic and fired. The bullet caught the man in the
midst of his leap; he spun round, his sword clanked to the floor, and
he fell.

Wes fired again at the staring mob; then again; but the last time only
a sharp click answered his trigger finger. He flung the gun into the
thick of the hesitating warriors, swept the dead soldier's sword off
the floor and pressed forward, intending to hack his way through.

But he did not have to. The other warriors were only human. They had
just seen uncanny, instant death. They shrank back from the door; some
even ran back from the stranger, preferring the flames to the
thunder-death that he meted out. The do