"It is true," he answered. "I would have prevented it if I could have. Your ship has gone the way of all others which have come to the coasts of Maeronica." "Is it, then, the custom of your 'great king' so to greet strangers who come to his shores?" asked Polaris. "Such have been the orders of the king of Maeronica," replied Oleric. "Many a long century has rolled into the past since any ship, save the fademes, cast anchor in the harbor of the city of Adlaz. It is the law. It is so writ upon the sacred column. But it is a bad law." "An hour ago we had not guessed of the existence even of this land of Maeronica of yours, with its city of Adlaz and its rule of death in the sea," said Polaris. "All that we asked was to go our ways in peace and a safe journey to America. Now, because of the evil law of an evil land, a great ship's company is food for the fishes. You say well that it is a bad law. "And, hark you, Oleric the Red, I count the reckoning between this King Bel-Ar of yours and me as both long and heavy. I do not know how it will fall about, or when; but my heart tells me that some time I shall make settlement of that score." Rose Emer stirred and moaned, and Polaris turned to her. He knelt again at the side of her couch and chafed her hands. Running his fingers through his red hair, Oleric looked down at Polaris. A strange light shone in the blue eyes of the captain, and over his face spread a crafty and satisfied smile. He nodded his head as though a thought had come to him that pleased him much. "Yourself and the lady here are not the only ones saved from the ship," he said at length. "What? There are others that live?" Polaris asked quickly. "Who, and where are they?" "In the opposite cabin of the fademe is the old man Zenas," Oleric replied, "and with him is the large and fat young man who made all of the jokes at the table on the ship. And in another fademe is the captain--Everson--and the two you saved from Sardanes, the giant Minos and the dark and splendid lady, Memene." "What know you of Sardanes?" Polaris asked. "And how comes it that you speak our English speech, now that your tongue is loosened?" Oleric smiled. "Though my tongue was idle on your ship yonder, my ears were not," he said, "nor were my eyes, and they gathered me much information. I know that you, whom they call the son of the snows, have lived a strange life and looked upon many wonders. But they are as nothing to the wonders which you are to see presently--and I, Oleric the Red, shall show them to you." He laughed soundlessly. "But the language--where learned you the English tongue?" Polaris asked again. "Surely it is not spoken in this Maeronica, this land whereof no man has ever heard." "Many years ago I learned it--from the lips of a slave. He, too, had been taken from the deck of a ship which was sunk by the fademes," was the answer of Oleric. He regarded Polaris keenly. Nor was that reply without its effect.