The geologist was bending over his charge as the hunters bore him along when he became aware of the tall figure of a woman that came down from the porch of the mansion and hastened along the walk. She had thrown a long, dark red cloak about her shoulders. In the dusk of the garden the scientist could not distinguish her features, but he saw that her hair was dark, or seemed to be, and that she was taller than most women and splendidly formed. "The Goddess Glorian!" Oleric cried aloud. "Oh, by the stars of Ruthar, but you are welcome!" Down on one knee sank the captain and kissed her hand. "Oh, goddess, after all these years I have brought you the hope of Ruthar. But he is sorely wounded--dying--and you alone can save him. We were bringing him to Flomos with all the speed we might, and thought not to find you here." "Where else should Glorian be, but on the way to meet this man?" she answered simply. "Jastla's messenger reached Flomos this morning. He rode four horses to their deaths upon his way. You have done well, Oleric the Learned." When he heard the silvery cadences of that voice, though he understood not a word save the name of the captain, a thrill passed through Zenas Wright, old as he was, and through his aged veins he felt the blood course faster. The woman came nearer. He smelled the warm perfume of her hair as she bent and touched the cheek of Polaris with her hand. "Bring him within, Oleric," she said, "and, oh, haste, for--" Her glorious voice broke. "For he is nearly gone." Swinging the still form of Polaris shoulder high, the Rutharian hunters passed on and into the mansion, leaving Zenas behind. "Now, what do you know about that?" gasped the scientist as he sank wearily to the ground beside Everson. "Goddess, indeed! What, I want to know, will Rose Emer say when she learns of this young person? Well, I hope she saves the lad; but she'll need to be a doctor of parts, or I'm a donkey. Poor boy! Poor boy!" In a few moments came Oleric to show Wright and Everson to their quarters for the night in the rear of the house. And a rare time he had to arouse the lieutenant sufficiently to lead him to bed. White and still, Polaris Janess lay on a bed in an upper chamber of the old house. By the light from a mitzl globe--trophy of some Rutharian chieftain in a foray over the Kimbrian Wall--the Goddess Glorian bent above him and studied his pale features. "My friend, my poor friend," she said brokenly. "How often through the weary years I have seen you in my dreams--and now to find you--only to lose you." Hot tears ran down her cheeks and fell on the stricken man's face. "Oh! It shall not be!" she said fiercely. "You shall not die--not if Glorian must give her soul to hold you back from the gates of darkness."