"Come here!" he ordered huskily, motioning with his hands. Abby stepped hesitantly forward, a perfectly simulated look of puzzlement on her face. Nat stepped forward at the same time, hoping to get closer to the guard. "Stay where you are," the agent snarled, waving his weapon at Nat. Abby looked around at Nat with a cautioning expression on her face as the agent moved slowly towards her. Careful to keep the gun pointed at Nat, the agent put out a hand, slid his arm around her waist. Nat could tell by her quivering shoulders that Abby was revolted by the man's touch, although she managed a faint, inviting smile. Nat was poised, ready to move in when the agent dropped his guard. Then he suddenly felt stark terror as he saw the man pull out a small paralysis gun. "I think I'll immobilize you, Lyon, while I get better acquainted with your girl friend," he rasped. Nat jumped, but the ray gun caught him in mid-air. * * * * * His thoughts as he regained consciousness later were an agony of confusion. Feeling the familiar sensation of a time machine in motion, he filled in the blank about what must have happened to Abby. Sick with resignation he opened his eyes, then sat up quickly, blinking in disbelief, for Abby was sitting at the controls of the machine. Her blouse was soiled and ripped, her hair mussed and Nat thought he saw blood on her skirt. But she was humming a tune as she checked the dials. "Abby," Nat cried. "Are you all right?" Her smile said more than words. "You seem to forget, my dear husband," she said happily, coming over to him. "We tender New England pioneers learned a few things about self protection." "What happened?" Abby shuddered. "It wasn't pleasant, having that beast paw me, but my apparent willingness threw him off guard. About the time he started ripping my clothing off, I used the little dagger we picked up in Renaissance Italy." Suddenly a sob broke through her artificial gaiety and she was in Nat's arms, her control completely gone. Her body racked with sobs, tears streaming down her face. "They're getting closer each time, Abby," Nat said reflectively. "Next time they probably will get us." "But we're still together," Abby said fiercely. "And, if we're careful, they may never find us again." Years passed. Nat and Abby's youthful happiness flowered into the contentment of those who have lived their allotted years in wisdom. Nat had retired many years before, and he and Abby were content with simple pleasures. Evenings they sat together on the porch of their Florida cottage, enjoying the ocean breeze and each other's presence. It was on such an evening that their world came to an end.