"Oh, that." The Venusian shrugged. "A trick of the wind. It sighs in the hollow rocks around the strait." * * * * * He yawned, giving place again to the steersman, and came to stand beside Stark. The Earthman ignored him. For some reason, that sound half heard through the mists had brought his uneasiness to a sharp pitch. Civilization had brushed over Stark with a light hand. Raised from infancy by half-human aboriginals, his perceptions were still those of a savage. His ear was good. Malthor lied. That cry of pain was not made by any wind. "I have known several Earthmen," said Malthor, changing the subject, but not too swiftly. "None of them were like you." Intuition warned Stark to play along. "I don't come from Earth," he said. "I come from Mercury." Malthor puzzled over that. Venus is a cloudy world, where no man has ever seen the Sun, let alone a star. The captain had heard vaguely of these things. Earth and Mars he knew of. But Mercury was an unknown word. Stark explained. "The planet nearest the Sun. It's very hot there. The Sun blazes like a huge fire, and there are no clouds to shield it." "Ah. That is why your skin is so dark." He held his own pale forearm close to Stark's and shook his head. "I have never seen such skin," he said admiringly. "Nor such great muscles." Looking up, he went on in a tone of complete friendliness, "I wish you would stay with me. You'll find no better lodgings in Shuruun. And I warn you, there are people in the town who will take advantage of strangers--rob them, even slay them. Now, I am known by all as a man of honour. You could sleep soundly under my roof." He paused, then added with a smile, "Also, I have a daughter. An excellent cook--and very beautiful." The woeful chanting came again, dim and distant on the wind, an echo of warning against some unimagined fate. Stark said for the third time, "No." He needed no intuition to tell him to walk wide of the captain. The man was a rogue, and not a very subtle one. A flint-hard, angry look came briefly into Malthor's eyes. "You're a stubborn man. You'll find that Shuruun is no place for stubbornness." He turned and went away. Stark remained where he was. The ship drifted on through a slow eternity of time. And all down that long still gulf of the Red Sea, through the heat and the wreathing fog, the ghostly chanting haunted him, like the keening of lost souls in some forgotten hell. Presently the course of the ship was altered. Malthor came again to the after-deck, giving a few quiet commands. Stark saw land ahead, a darker blur on the night, and then the shrouded outlines of a city. Torches blazed on the quays and in the streets, and the low buildings caught a ruddy glow from the burning sea itself. A squat and ugly town, Shuruun, crouching witch-like on the rocky shore, her ragged skirts dipped in blood. The ship drifted in toward the quays. * * * * *