“My father tried to help him by spies--we were not at war with the Shamans then, nor were we strong enough to invade their country--sending clothes and money, which the spies promised to get to him if he were put out to death through the gate after the Shamans’ cruel fashion. And Ziné put the picture in with the clothes. The spies told us they had succeeded with the help of the archer I mentioned, and said that it was common talk among the guard that next day his body could not be found. So then for a space we hoped, believing that he had got the things they said had been dropped over the cliffs and freed himself and escaped. But after a while we felt sure he must be dead, and thought that the spies, after the manner of such men, lied to us to get the greater reward.” “Then is Euphrosine, or Ziné, as you call her, still with you, or is there peace in her country now?” “No; it is as bad as ever, for there is no rule, and the people fight among themselves, and the Shamans slay and pillage as they will, now helping one section, now another, for they do not really desire to rule the land themselves yet. They wish to destroy all law, so that they may then easily set up their own customs, when folk are wearied of war and pillage and unable to resist them. I do not know much about their rule, save that some of their decrees are foul beyond imagining. As I told you, they worship evil gods. But when we get home my father will tell you more about it all than I can. I think he hopes to destroy the Shamans some day and restore peace to the other clans. Then, if he does that, Ziné will be chief of her clan again, for she has no other close relations.” “Do women rule, then, in your country?” “But yes, sometimes, if there be no close male relatives. But I would not like it, since it often means they have to marry some one whom they would not, lest he whom they would marry be not acceptable to the clan. I am glad I have a brother.” Strangely enough, so was I, though I did not say so. “Do not women ever rule in your country, Harilek?” she went on. “Yes, sometimes; and they sometimes do not like it for the same reason, that their husbands are chosen for them.” “Which is _quite_ wrong,” said Aryenis, with a defiant tilt of her well-shaped chin. “A woman should always choose her own man, although,” she added as a minor qualification, “of course, he is always allowed to think _he_ has done the choosing.” “I believe it is like that in my own country, though I do not know from experience,” said I. Aryenis looked at me thoughtfully but said nothing, so I dropped the subject and rigged up the telescope. “The others ought to be in sight on the hill now. It’s nearly an hour since they left.” Within a minute or so I picked them up, three tiny figures making their way up the more gentle slope above the cliff part. They worked upward until they reached the foot of the arch, where they halted awhile.