But his lips were smiling. “We do not desire death,” he said. “We will return to Rax, and she will give the promise you ask.” He turned to Nona, signing her to speak. “You will trust him to send us safely to Rax?” he added. “No!” cried Nona. And she added, with a flow of woman’s words, the proposal we had planned—her insistence that she be taken along to see us safely into Marinoid waters. Og listened silently. Then he gazed from one to the other of us. The crafty smile on his face made my heart sink. “You think perhaps to escape with her on the journey?” he suggested. And when we did not answer, his arm waved away the idea. “I shall take care that you do not.” Then to Nona: “You speak well, my queen. For your promise I will do much. You shall go.” * * * * * Again he was silent, pondering. I could almost see some new murderous scheme taking form in his brain. He added suddenly: “Of course, you shall go, Queen of the Maagogs, if that is your wish.” He turned toward the tunnel mouth. The black fishes were crowded there, staring at us. Og’s sardonic laugh rang out. “Patience, little black ones. You will go with us, of course. You will go to see that my queen does not escape me!” He swung back to Atar, and said curtly: “During the next sleep time we will start. The Maagogs—some of them—think I ought to kill you now—not send you back to Rax. We will leave while they are asleep—to avoid trouble. I shall come for you then.” He bowed ironically to Nona, swam to the tunnel-mouth, and with a parting admonition to the fishes gathered there, he disappeared. Again we were alone. Our plans already had miscarried. We realized it. As though our thoughts had been written on our faces, Og had understood our purpose. There would be no chance for us to escape with Nona. The black fishes were going with us. And during that coming journey, we knew Og intended to kill us men—kill us and still make Nona think we were safe—hold her to her promise. Time passed. The warm water of the cave oppressed us—yet we were all cold with fear and despair. The very silence of the room seemed sinister—that tense silence that urges one to scream. We were not talking now—we were thinking—planning a thousand desperate, impractical plans, all of which seemed to mean nothing but death for us men, and worse than death for Nona. It must be now the Time of Sleep . . . Og would be back soon . . . I held my Nona close—waiting. . . . In the tunnel a dim human figure appeared, taking shape out of the distant blackness of the passageway. It was swimming swiftly but silently toward us. Through the moving ranks of the black fishes circling there, it threaded its way. But it was not Og! And then we saw it was a woman—a Maagog woman—Maaret, the girl! Nona was nearest to the tunnel. I flung myself forward to protect her. But just inside our cave Maaret stopped. Her furtive glance swept the tunnel behind her.