"Of those who come to take us, some at least shall go a long journey with us," he said as he toyed with the heavy blade. Everson and Brooks, picked men who had sailed the seas for Uncle Sam, nodded their heads, saying nothing. There have been traditions in that service of which they were officers. When their time came they would uphold them. White and straight, the Lady Memene stood up from the table and fixed her glorious eyes upon the Sardanian king. She plucked from the bosom of her gown a small, keen dagger, a blade of ilium, which a certain Kard the Smith had forged for her in far-away Sardanes. She reached the weapon across the table and into the hands of Minos. "If I understand the words of this man aright, death waiteth," she said in the ancient Greek of her native land. "Memene prefers it at thy hands, O king of mine. Slay thou me and--and the unborn king, Minos." Her lips trembled pitifully, and her voice broke. Then she became hard again, and with a fire in her eyes. "Join thou then with our good brother here, and slay, and slay, and slay--for this is an evil land. And begin with this man whom we saved from the sea, and who is evil, also. See! He smileth, while we are about to die." Oleric, who had made no move when his sword was taken from him, sat quietly, studying the faces about him and smiling his enigmatical smile. "What does the lady say?" he asked of Polaris. Janess told him. When Rose Emer heard, she threw her arms about the Sardanian princess and hid her face in Memene's bosom. Presently she looked up, a mist of tears in her gray eyes, but her voice was clear and steady as she said: "If we are to die, let us die together. Polaris, let me go with Memene." Oleric's smile vanished. He held up his hand. "Let there be no more talk of dying--at least not for many long years," he said, and there were both feeling and strength in his tones. The others looked at him, wondering what his words portended. "Now the time has come for me to avow myself," continued the red captain. "I will speak all that has been in my mind, and you shall judge if I be worthy of your trust--for trust to me you must, if we are to see a straight way out of this tangle." He turned to Polaris. "My brother," he said, "do you recall that yesterday, when you had slain the bull of Shamar, I said to you that Bel-Ar would be as little likely to forgive you that deed as to forgive one who confessed himself a follower of the Goddess Glorian of Ruthar?" Polaris nodded. "I remember," he answered, "but understand not." "That is my crime," said Oleric. "I am of Ruthar, a follower of the Goddess Glorian, and a faithful one. I will make clear to you what you do not understand. Listen. I will make the tale brief.