light, she saw the mouth open. Horrified, she looked away. Her eyes
fell upon the squatting savages--their heads were all turned towards
her, she was sure that she could see their shrunken chests heave as they
took breath to utter that terrible cry again and again; even the fallen
body of the African stirred on the floor, not five paces from her. Would
their shrieking never stop? All of them--every one--even to the white
skulls high up in the case; not one skeleton, not one dead body that did
not mouth at her and scream and moan and scream again.

Unorna covered her ears with her hands to shut out the hideous,
unearthly noise. She closed her eyes lest she should see those dead
things move. Then came another noise. Were they descending from their
pedestals and cases and marching upon her, a heavy-footed company of
corpses?

Fearless to the last, she dropped her hands and opened her eyes.

"In spite of you all," she cried defiantly, "I will give my soul to have
him safe!"

Something was close to her. She turned and saw Keyork Arabian at her
elbow. There was an odd smile on his usually unexpressive face.

"Then give me that soul of yours, if you please," he said. "He is quite
safe and peacefully asleep. You must have grown a little nervous while I
was away."

CHAPTER X

Unorna let herself sink into a chair. She stared almost vacantly at
Keyork, then glanced uneasily at the motionless specimens, then stared
at him again.

"Yes," she said at last. "Perhaps I was a little nervous. Why did you
lock me in? I would have gone with you. I would have helped you."

"An accident--quite an accident," answered Keyork, divesting himself of
his fur coat. "The lock is a peculiar one, and in my hurry I forgot to
show you the trick of it."

"I tried to get out," said Unorna with a forced laugh. "I tried to
break the door down with a club. I am afraid I have hurt one of your
specimens."

She looked about the room. Everything was in its usual position, except
the body of the African. She was quite sure that when she had head that
unearthly cry, the dead faces had all been turned towards her.

"It is no matter," replied Keyork in a tone of indifference which was
genuine. "I wish somebody would take my collection off my hands. I
should have room to walk about without elbowing a failure at every
step."

"I wish you would bury them all," suggested Unorna, with a slight
shudder.

Keyork looked at her keenly.

"Do you mean