"We need not the light, master. We see better without it. It dazzles our eyes. Use it for yourself. We need it not!" exclaimed Bremilu, stooping above the body of the dead monster to recover his ax. Involuntarily Allan turned the beam upon the horrible creature. There stood Bremilu, his foot upon the hairy shoulder, tugging hard at the ax-handle. Thrice he had to pull with all his might to loosen the blade which had buried itself deep in the shattered skull. "A giant gorilla, so help me!" he cried, shuddering. "My God, Beatrice--what a ghastly terror you've been through!" Still grinning ferociously, in death, with blood-smeared face and glazed, staring eyes, the creature shocked and horrified even Allan's steady nerves. He gazed upon it only a moment, then turned away. "Enough!" said he. "To the cave!" A quarter-hour had passed before they reached shelter again. Allan bade the Merucaans heap dry wood on the embers in the cavern, while he himself laid Beatrice upon the bed. With a piece of their brown cloth dipped in one of the water-jars he bathed her face and bruised throat. "Fresh water! Fetch a jar of fresh water from the river below!" he commanded Zangamon. But even as the white barbarian started to obey, the girl stirred, raised a hand, and feebly spoke. "Allan--oh--are you here again? Allan--my love!" He strained her to his breast and kissed her; and his eyes grew hot with tears. "Beatrice!" Her arms were round his neck, and their lips clung. "Hurt? Are you hurt?" he cried. "Tell me--how--" "Allen! The monster--is he dead?" she shivered, sitting up and staring wildly round at the cave walls on which the fresh-built fire was beginning to throw dancing lights. "Dead, yes. But hush, Beta! Don't think of that now. Everything's all right--you're safe! I'm here!" "Those men--" "Two of our own Folk. I brought them back with me--just in time, darling. Without them--" He broke short off. Not for worlds would he have told her how near the borderland she had been. "You heard my shouts? You heard our signal?" "Oh--I don't know Allan. I can't think, yet--it's all so terrible--so confused--" "There, there, sweetheart; don't think about it any more. Just lie down and rest. Go to sleep. I'll watch here beside you. You're safe. Nothing can hurt you now!" She lay back with a sigh, and for a while kept silence while he sat beside her, his uninjured arm beneath her head. His one ambition, now that he found she was not seriously hurt in body, was to keep her from talking of the horrible affair--from exciting herself and rehearsing her terrors. Above all, she must be quieted and kept calm. At last, in her own natural voice, she spoke again. "Allan?" "What is it, sweetheart?" "I owe you my life once more! If I was yours before, I'm ten times more yours now!" He bent and kissed her, and presently her deepened breathing told him she had drifted over the borderline into the sleep of exhaustion. He blessed her strength and courage.