She hung suspended by her wrists from a bar mounted at the roof of the cage. She was naked; the bar revolved, turning her like an animal trussed to a spit. Herndon froze, not daring to move, staring in sudden astonishment at the slim bare body dangling there. It was a body he knew well. The girl in the cage was the Lady Moaris. Seigneur Krellig smiled benignly; he murmured in a gentle voice, "Moaris, the show is yours and the audience awaits. Don't keep us waiting." * * * * * Moaris slowly moved toward the center of the ballroom floor. The marble under his feet was brightly polished and reflected him; his boots thundered as he walked. He turned, facing Krellig, and said in a calm, controlled tone, "Ladies and gentlemen of the Seigneur's court, I beg leave to transact a little of my domestic business before your eyes. The lady in the cage, as most of you, I believe, are aware, is my wife." A ripple of hastily-hushed comment was emitted by the men and women of the court. Moaris gestured and a spotlight flashed upward, illuminating the woman in the cage. Herndon saw that her wrists were cruelly pinioned and that the blue veins stood out in sharp relief against her pale arms. She swung in a small circle as the bar above her turned in its endless rotation. Beads of sweat trickled down her back and down her stomach, and the harsh sobbing intake of her breath was audible in the silence. Moaris said casually, "My wife has been unfaithful to me. A trusted servant informed me of this not long ago: she has cheated me several times with no less a personage than an obscure member of our household, a groom or a lackey or some other person. When I questioned her, she did not deny this accusation. The Seigneur"--Moaris bowed in a throneward direction--"has granted me permission to chastise her here, to provide me with greater satisfaction and you with a moment of amusement." Herndon did not move. He watched as Moaris drew from his sash a glittering little heat-gun. Calmly the nobleman adjusted the aperture to minimum. He gestured; a side of the cage slid upward, giving him free target. He lifted the heat-gun. _Flick!_ A bright tongue of flame licked out--and the girl in the cage uttered a little moan as a pencil-thin line was seared across her flanks. _Flick!_ Again the beam played across her body. _Flick!_ Again. Lines of pain were traced across her breasts, her throat, her knees, her back. She revolved helplessly as Moaris amused himself, carving line after line along her body with the heat-ray. It was only with an effort that Herndon held still. The members of the court chuckled as the Lady Moaris writhed and danced in an effort to escape the inexorable lash of the beam.