"You can't. I won't have it, I tell you. Oh, Ruth, surely you can't believe in this preposterous, this unnatural faith? I don't know what hellish power the Countess may have over you; but I do know that it isn't natural for a normal girl, reared as you have been, suddenly to accept a faith that even a heathen would sneer at! And I'm going to----" Carl was interrupted by the unheralded appearance of one of the Countess Moonard's swarthy-skinned Egyptian servants. The man, tall and sinisterly handsome, was dressed like all the Countess' menials; he wore the brief, exotic attire of a slave in an ancient court or temple. The servant bowed his head and made a peculiar sign which Ruth seemed to understand. "The Countess desires to see you, most lovely maiden of the Temple of Moonere," the servant said solemnly. "Maiden of the temple of Moonere!" Carl could not restrain his disgust. "You tell your mistress I am taking Ruth home; and that if she wants to see anyone about her insane religion, she may consult me." The servant did not answer him, but his eyes narrowed into slits of cruelty and hatred. His lips curled contemptuously. "Nilathar, I will follow you to the priestess," Ruth said, ignoring Carl's threat to take her home. "Ruth!" Carl pulled her to his side. "I'm not going to let you stay here alone. You've got to listen to me." The servant broke Carl's grasp about Ruth's wrist, and pushed him from her. "No one is to restrain a maiden of the temple when the priestess calls," he said, standing between Ruth and Carl. "Why, you----" Carl lunged at the Egyptian, who quickly drew a knife. The blade pressed against Carl's vest, and seemed only too eager to press further. The servant smiled in mock courtesy. "The guests are departing. The Countess sends you her regrets, for she is retiring with her faithful maidens," the servant said coldly. "Your coat and hat will be brought to you." * * * * * Carl was furious, but a length of glittering steel in obviously adept and determined hands is a deterrent to the most courageous, and will instill restraint and judgment in the most foolhardy. What perplexed Carl also left him with a feeling of helplessness--Ruth's apparent lack of consideration of his danger. This was not like the girl he had known since his early childhood; the girl who would have fought like a tigress anyone who might have threatened Carl. Now she ignored him entirely, as if it meant nothing to her that his encounter with the servant might have proved fatal for him. He turned to make one final plea to Ruth. She was gone. When his coat and hat were brought to him, he took them and said with an ironic smile, "Tell the Countess I am overwhelmed with her hospitality. She must call on me some day."