now. The breeze had lulled, perhaps preceding a shift of wind; and the visible people on the deck of the Feu Follette appeared to be running back and forth in indecision.

At Milo’s right hand the great rock sat on its ledge, ready to fall at a touch, and his brooding eyes flashed to it with terrible meaning. Inside, the great chamber resounded with the clash of steel, the shouts of furious human beasts, and the shrill cries of women urging them on; for there must be victors, even to such a sordid fight, and to the victors, spoils. Where victors and spoils are, there harpy women await them.

Milo gazed long and passionately into the face of his dead; then he laid her softly down outside the rock and arose with a fierce light irradiating his face.