"No"--she shook her head--"none of their weapons have we here, although it was--it was the Ancient Ones who shaped them." "But the Three are of the Ancient Ones?" I cried. "Surely they can tell--" "No," she said slowly. "No--there is something you must know--and soon; and then the Silent Ones say you will understand. You, especially, Goodwin, who worship wisdom." "Then," said Larry, "we have the _Akka_; and we have the four men of us, and among us three guns and about a hundred cartridges--an'--an' the power of the Three--but what about the Shining One, Fireworks--" "I do not know." Again the indecision that had been in her eyes when Yolara had launched her defiance crept back. "The Shining One is strong--and he has his--slaves!" "Well, we'd better get busy good and quick!" the O'Keefe's voice rang. But Lakla, for some reason of her own, would pursue the matter no further. The trouble fled from her eyes--they danced. "Larry darlin'?" she murmured. "I like the touch of your lips--" "You do?" he whispered, all thought flying of anything but the beautiful, provocative face so close to his. "Then, _acushla_, you're goin' to get acquainted with 'em! Turn your head, Doc!" he said. And I turned it. There was quite a long silence, broken by an interested, soft outburst of gentle boomings from the serving frog-maids. I stole a glance behind me. Lakla's head lay on the Irishman's shoulder, the golden eyes misty sunpools of love and adoration; and the O'Keefe, a new look of power and strength upon his clear-cut features, was gazing down into them with that look which rises only from the heart touched for the first time with that true, all-powerful love, which is the pulse of the universe itself, the real music of the spheres of which Plato dreamed, the love that is stronger than death itself, immortal as the high gods and the true soul of all that mystery we call life. Then Lakla raised her hands, pressed down Larry's head, kissed him between the eyes, drew herself with a trembling little laugh from his embrace. "The future Mrs. Larry O'Keefe, Goodwin," said Larry to me a little unsteadily. I took their hands--and Lakla kissed me! She turned to the booming--smiling--frog-maids; gave them some command, for they filed away down the path. Suddenly I felt, well, a little superfluous. "If you don't mind," I said, "I think I'll go up the path there again and look about." But they were so engrossed with each other that they did not even hear me--so I walked away, up to the embrasure where Rador had taken me. The movement of the batrachians over the bridge had ceased. Dimly at the far end I could see the cluster of the garrison. My thoughts flew back to Lakla and to Larry. What was to be the end?