* * * * * Except for the quaint architecture of the place, and the strange garb of the folk who thronged its streets, the Americans might have imagined themselves entering some stately capital of the modern world, and not Adlaz of Maeronica, the oldest of all peopled cities of the earth--older, indeed, than many among the buried ruins in which archeologists love to delve. For its pavements were curbed and guttered, and between them and the building fronts and lawns were walks of stone, bordered by well-ordered rows of trees and many shrubs and beds of flowers. The people who walked the streets, too, were quiet and orderly folk. They stared hard at those who rode in the car, but there was no unseemly outcry. Only an occasional shout of surprise and welcome went up as some group of strollers recognized the merry face and flaming poll of Oleric the Red. At all of these marvels the two Sardanians gazed wonderingly and talked together of them in their tongue. "Ah, surely here is one of the greatest cities of the world of men, my prince," said the Lady Memene. "Note the mighty towers yonder and how they flash and gleam. And the folk! In one short ride we have seen enough of them to people two lands like our own lost Sardanes." "Aye, Memene, these be wonders, indeed," Minos answered. "And here is a kingdom and a city well worth the ruling over. Yet these, even these, must be as nothing to the things beyond in the greater world, whereof Polaris hath told us. I wonder if we shall ever reach them. For myself, though, I find this land and its folk more to my manner of understanding than the world-dwellers way to the north. Here, methinks, one might, did opportunity offer, carve out a kingdom for the king that is to come." Memene flushed and hung her head, and the two of them lapsed into thoughtful silence. Truly, Minos of Sardanes lacked not in ambition. "Too late, now, to hope to meet Bel-Ar the king before the morrow," Oleric said. "And perhaps that is as well. By another coming of Shamar his wrath may have cooled somewhat, though 'twill still burn hot enough, I'll wager." The charioteers drove their car to the front of a long, low building, the façade of which verged almost upon the pavement of the black avenue which was known as Chedar's Flight, because of an ancient battle which had been fought along its course. There, the riders of Brunar left the car and clattered away up the street to their own place. A group of street idlers surrounded the car and began to discuss its passengers, taking note especially of the giant form of Minos and the beauty of the two ladies. "This was a palace, once, but it serves as a prison, now," Oleric said to Polaris, as gates of bronze were thrust back and the charioteers drove through and into a roomy court, partly paved and partly lawn and trees. "Sorry I am, comrade, that this must be, but 'tis not of my working."