to hurry him into another room. And
where before he could see nothing of a beautiful room because of the
absence of a pair of smiling eyes, he now saw nothing else for their
presence. For, across the great hall, whose walls and ceilings glowed
softly with yellow light, his eyes swept unerringly to a slim figure in
a pilot's suit--to an oval face and blue eyes and red lips that could
still curve into a trembling smile of welcome as he drew near.

* * * * *

Forgotten was the grip of sharp-spiked, clawing hands; even the
anticipated sweets of revenge were lost from Chet's mind. He knew only
that he had found her--the mystery girl--and that the blue eyes were
locked with his in an intimacy that set something deep within him into a
turmoil of emotion.

And instead of the countless questions he had expected to launch upon
her when again they met, he found his lips trembling and wordless--until
they uttered one hoarse ejaculation of: "Thank God!"

But the girl seemed to understand, for she reached one slender hand to
touch him lightly upon the arm where these gripping claws had been.
"Yes," she whispered; "I was afraid, too--afraid for you!"

More whispered words, but they were lost to Chet in the babel of sound
that engulfed them. Those who had brought him had moved silently, and
the throng of some hundred or more that waited beside the girl had been
mute. But now they burst into a chorus of shrill cries whose keenness
stabbed at Chet's ears.

A pandemonium of the same high-pitched squeals, he had heard
before--this was all that he could distinguish at first. Then the shrill
sounds broke into words and unintelligible phrases, and he knew they
were talking among themselves.

* * * * *

They quieted at a sound from the girl. She had turned to face them, and
she forced her own soft voice into a shrill pitch as she spoke to them.
Their clamor broke out once more as she ceased, but it was more
subdued. Chet could hear her as she turned toward him.

"They think you are Frithjof," she explained.

"You talked with them?" asked Chet incredulously.

"But certainly; have I not been here for five years? They have their
language--but enough of that now. They are angry. They sent Frithjof
away; they tell me now that he escaped; they think you are he--that you
have changed your appearance with magic--that the ship they saw was
summoned by your magic. They say they