Our cage was set now in what had been a woodland glade, an irregularly circular space of six or eight hundred feet, with the wreckage of the burned forest around it. We were on a slight rise of ground. Through the denuded trees the undulating landscape was visible over a considerable area. It was high noon, and the sun hung in a pale blue sky dotted with pure white clouds. Ahead of us, fringed with green where the fire had not reached, lay a blue river, sparkling in the sunlight. The Hudson! But it was not named yet; nearly eight hundred and fifty years were to pass before Hendrick Hudson came sailing up this river, adventuring, hoping that here was the way to China. We were near the easterly side of the glade; to the west there was more than five hundred feet of vacant space. It was there the other cage would appear, if it stopped. * * * * * As Mary and I stood by the window at the end of the chain-lengths which held us, Tugh and Migul made hurried preparations. "Go quickly, near the spot where he will arrive. When he sees you, run away, Migul. You understand?" "Yes, Master." The Robot left our doorway, tramping with stiff-legged tread across the glade. Tugh was in the room behind us, and I turned to him and asked: "What are you going to do?" He was at the telespectroscope. I saw on its recording mirror the wraith-like image of the other vehicle. It was coming! It would be retarding, maneuvering to stop at just this Time when now we existed here; but across the glade, where Migul now was leaning against a great black tree-trunk, there was yet no evidence of it. Tugh did not answer my question. Mary said quaveringly: "What are you going to do?" He looked up. "Do not concern yourself, my dear. I am not going to hurt you, nor this young man of 1935. Not yet." He left the table and came at us. His cloak parted in front and I saw his crooked hips, and shriveled bent legs. "You stay at the window, both of you, and keep looking out. I want this Harl to see you, but not me. Do you understand?" "Yes," I said. "And if you gesture, or cry out--if you do anything to warn him,"--he was addressing me, with a tone grimly menacing--"then I will kill you. Both of you. Do you understand?" I did indeed. Nor could I doubt him. "We will do what you want." I said. What, to me, was the life of this unknown Harl compared to the safety of Mary Atwood? * * * * * Tugh crouched behind the table. From around its edge he could see out the doorway and across the glade. I was aware of a weapon in his hand. "Do not look around again," he repeated. "The other cage is coming; it's almost here." I held Mary, and we gazed out. We were pressed against the bars, and sunlight was on our heads and shoulders. I realized that we could be plainly seen from across the glade. We were lures--decoys to trap Harl.