h terror--for he, probably better than
any of us, understood what was coming--dragged himself to Tarrano's
feet.

"Stand up!"

"Master, have mercy----"

"Stand up! Are you a man?"

Argo's legs would barely support him, but he struggled to get himself
erect. With a wrench, Tarrano tore the robe from Argo's chest.

"Master! Master! Have mercy!"

In Tarrano's hand I saw a needle-like piece of steel. A dagger, yet it
was more like a needle.

"Master--Oh----"

Tarrano had stabbed it gently into the man's chest. A mere prick into
the flesh, and a tiny drop of blood oozed out.

For a moment Argo stood swaying. Eyes white-rimmed with mortal terror as
he stupidly looked down at the drop of blood. A moment, then the
injected poison took effect. He tottered, flung his arms above his head
and fell. Lay writhing an instant; then twitching; and then quite still.

Tarrano turned away, his face impassive. "Unfortunate. He was a good man
in many ways--I shall be sorry to lose his services." He saw me with my
arm around Elza, and he frowned.

"So?"

Instinctively, involuntarily--and I hated myself for it--I dropped my
arm.

Georg exclaimed: "Wolfgar--he----"

Tarrano turned from me. "He is not dead--but he will die. There is
nothing we can do. I'm very sorry--very sorry indeed."

A sincere regret was in his tone. We lifted Wolfgar up, carried him to a
depression in the floor by the wall--a shallow, couch-like bowl
half-filled with down.

On the floor we gathered, seated on cushions; and presently Wolfgar
regained consciousness. His face was not burned. It lighted with a dazed
smile; and his eyes, searching us, picked out Maida.

"You are safe--I'm--so glad."

His voice was low and labored; and at once his eyes closed again as
though the effort of speaking were too great.

Maida was sitting near me at Wolfgar's head, bending over him. She had
recovered from her terror of Argo; and as she leaned down, gazing at the
dying Wolfgar, I think I have never seen so gentle, so compassionate an
expression upon the face of any woman.

Elza whispered: "There must be something we can do. The men of
medicine--the lights--the healing lights! Georg! Cannot you use
father's----"

They were only an overwrought girl's excited ideas, of course. Wolfgar's
lungs were seared; even as Elza spoke, he coughed, and blood welled from
his mouth--blood which Georg quickly wiped away.

Tarrano was on his feet behind us, with folded arms;