“Ko-tah wants me in marriage,” she replied. “Ko-tah is very powerful. He expects one day to be Jemadar of Laythe. This he cannot be while I live unless he marries me.” “Do you wish to marry him?” I asked. “No,” she said; “not now. Before—” she hesitated—“before I left Laythe I did not care so very much; but now I know that I cannot wed with Ko-tah.” “And your father,” I continued, “what of him—will he insist that you marry Ko-tah?” “He cannot do otherwise,” replied Nah-ee-lah, “for Ko-tah is very powerful. If my father refuses to permit me to marry him Ko-tah may overthrow him, and when my father is dead, should I still refuse to marry Ko-tah he may slay me, also, and then become Jemadar easily, for the blood of Jemadars flows in his veins.” “It appears to me, Nah-ee-lah, that you will be about as badly off at home as anywhere else in Va-nah. It is too bad that I cannot take you to my own Earth, where you would be quite safe, and I am sure, happy.” “I wish that you might, Julian,” she replied simply. I was about to reply when she placed slim fingers upon my lips. “Hush, Julian!” she whispered, “they are following us up this corridor. Come quickly, we must escape before they overtake us,” and so saying, she turned and ran quickly along the corridor which led neither of us knew whither. But we were soon to find out, for we had gone but a short distance when we came to the tunnel’s end in a large circular chamber, at one end of which was a rostrum upon which were a massive, elaborately carved desk and a chair of similar design. Below the rostrum were arranged other chairs in rows, with a broad aisle down the center. The furniture, though of peculiar design and elaborately carved with strange figures of unearthly beasts and reptiles, was not, for all of that, markedly dissimilar to articles of the same purpose fabricated upon Earth. The chairs had four legs, high backs and broad arms, seeming to have been designed equally for durability, service, and comfort. I glanced quickly around the apartment, as we first entered, only taking in the details later, but I saw that there was no other opening than the one through which we had entered. “We will have to wait here, Nah-ee-lah,” I said. “Perhaps, though, all will be well—the Kalkars may prove friendly.” She shook her head negatively. “No,” she said, “they will not be friendly.” “What will they do to us?” I asked. “They will make slaves of us,” she replied, “and we shall spend the balance of our lives working almost continuously until we drop with fatigue under the cruelest of taskmakers, for the Kalkars hate us of Laythe and will hesitate at nothing that will humiliate or injure us.”