Keeping close together they hastened along. Aran figures scurried here and there; lights twinkled in the houses, then were extinguished as though the concealing darkness might offer protection. "Curious," murmured Rogers. "The entire city is in terror." "The guilt that has been within them for generations," Fahn answered. "Toroh planned this well. The Bas will not know it was an attempt to steal the fabric. Instead they will think that one of their own people dared to murder Mme. Voluptua. The Arans think that now. They think the Bas have risen to rebellion at last. It is not this one murder, but the meaning of it that they fear--the confidence it will give the Bas." And as though to confirm his words, the figure of a Bas man stood motionless on the next street corner. He was partly in shadow, but he did not move as the three men came along; and as they passed, his body seemed to straighten, with the consciousness of his own power sweeping over it. They hurried across the city. As they went, they passed other Bas--Bas who no longer skulked in the shadows. At last they came to the shimmering, moonlit garden of Fahn's home. The house was dark. They called, but no one answered. A brief search revealed the truth; Azeela, George and Dee were not to be found. The place was undisturbed; there seemed no evidence of marauders. "We must wait," Fahn said. But his tone was anxious. "They have not yet arrived from the grove. I cannot believe it is anything but that." For a time they waited, but none of the missing three appeared. A hum had been growing in the city--a murmur of distant cries that now forced itself on their attention. The murmur grew, resolving itself into shouts and the scuffle of running feet. A mob of Bas rounded a nearby street corner and swept past the house. The crowd might have held a thousand persons. A giant, half-naked man with a curved sword-blade in his hand was leading the way; behind him came hordes of brown-skinned men and women. Most of the men carried curved swords; the women wielded sticks--the heavy butts of palm-fronds with the green stripped off--and a variety of agricultural implements. "The cane-cutters!" Loto exclaimed softly. "The knives with which they cut the sugar cane. They--" He broke off, watching the grim mob as it swept by. At every corner it was strengthened by others who joined it; Bas were springing up miraculously from the shadows everywhere. Fahn's hand had gone to his belt; then it dropped to his side. Rogers met the Scientist's glance with a nod of understanding. "It is what we of the League have feared for years," Fahn said anxiously. "I cannot kill my own people. I am armed and they are not, yet I cannot kill them--cannot look upon them as enemies. And I think, even in their frenzy, they realize that and play upon it."