"I cheated you, Dantan. I cheated Sanfel yesterday--a thousand years ago. My need was very great, you see--and our ways are not yours. I knew that no man would fight for a stranger as I needed a man to fight for me." He held her tightly in gloved hands that could feel only a firm body in their grasp, not what that body was really like, nothing about it except its firmness. He caught his breath to interrupt, but she went on with a rush. "I have no way of knowing how you see me, Dantan," she said relentlessly. "I don't know how Sanfel saw me. To each of you--because I needed your help--I wore the shape to which you owed help most. I could reach into your minds deeply enough for that--to mould a remembered body for your eyes. My own shape is--different. You will never know it." She sighed. "You were a brave man, Dantan. Braver and stronger than I ever dreamed an alien could be. I wish--I wonder--Oh, let me go! Let me go!" She whirled out of his grasp with sudden vehemence, turning her face away so that he could not see her eyes. Without glancing at him again she bent over the shaft and found the topmost pegs, and in a moment was gone. Dantan stood there, waiting. Presently he heard the muffled humming of a muted bell, as though sounding from another world. Then he knew that there was no one in the ancient laboratory beneath his feet. He shut the door carefully and scraped soil over it. He did not mark the place. The dim red spot of the sun was rising above the canyon wall. His face set, Dantan began walking toward the distant cavern where his aircar was hidden. It was many miles away, but there was no one to stop him, now. He did not look back. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Eyes of Thar, by Henry Kuttner