the bulky, swaying shadow not twenty feet above the
garden. Slowly it drew nearer the grass-covered floor--foot by foot,
straining, struggling, gasping in the final supreme effort--and then,
with a sudden rush, the black mass collapsed and the taut rope sprung
loose, the end switching and leaping violently.

Genevra rushed frantically across the garden, half-fearful, half-joyous.
As she came up, the mass seemed to divide itself into two parts. One
sank limply to the ground, the other stood erect for a second and then
dropped beside the prostrate, gasping figure.

Chase had come down the rope with another human being clinging to his
body!

Genevra fell to her knees beside the man who had accomplished this
miracle. She gave but a passing glance at the other dark figure beside
her. All of her interest was in the writhing, gasping American. She
grasped his hands, warm and sticky with blood; she tried to lift his
head from the ground, moaning with pity all the time, uttering words of
encouragement in his ear.

Many minutes passed. At last Chase gave over gasping and began to
breathe regularly but heavily. The strain had been tremendous; only
superhuman strength and will had carried him through the ordeal. He
groaned with pain as the two beside him lifted him to a sitting posture.

"Tell Selim to come ahead," he gasped, his bloody hand at his throat.
"We're all right!"

Then, for the first time, Genevra peered in the darkness at the figure
beside her. She stared in amazement as it sprang lightly erect and
glided across to the patch of light. It was then that she recognised the
figure of a woman--a slight, graceful woman in Oriental garb. The woman
turned and lifted her face to the heights from which she had descended.
In a shrill, eager voice she called out something in a language strange
to the Princess, who knelt there and stared as if she were looking upon
a being from another world. A faint shout came from on high, and once
more the rope began to writhe.

The Princess passed her hand over her eyes, bewildered. The face of the
woman in the light, half-shaded, half-illumined, was gloriously
beautiful--young, dark, brilliant!

"Oh!" she exclaimed, starting to her feet, a look of understanding
coming into her eyes. This was one of the Persians! He had saved her! A
feeling of revulsion swept over her, combatting the first natural,
womanly pride in the deed of a brave man.

Chase struggled weakly to his feet. He saw