The priestess's silver chimes of laughter rang out, cruel, mocking. "Come, then, quickly," she jeered. "For surely both the Shining One and I yearn for you!" Her malice-laden laughter chimed high once more. "Keep us not lonely long!" the priestess mocked. Larry drew a deep breath, stretched both hands out to me. "It's good-by, I guess, Doc." His voice was strained. "Good-by and good luck, old boy. If you get out, and you _will_, let the old _Dolphin_ know I'm gone. And carry on, pal--and always remember the O'Keefe loved you like a brother." I squeezed his hands desperately. Then out of my balanceshaking woe a strange comfort was born. "Maybe it's not good-by, Larry!" I cried. "The banshee has not cried!" A flash of hope passed over his face; the old reckless grin shone forth. "It's so!" he said. "By the Lord, it's so!" Then Lakla bent toward me, and for the second time--kissed me. "Come!" she said to Larry. Hand in hand they moved away, into the corridor that led to the door outside of which waited the Shining One and its priestess. And unseen by them, wrapped as they were within their love and sacrifice, I crept softly behind. For I had determined that if enter the Dweller's embrace they must, they should not go alone. They paused before the Golden Portals; the handmaiden pressed its opening lever; the massive leaves rolled back. Heads high, proudly, serenely, they passed through and out upon the hither span. I followed. On each side of us stood the Dweller's slaves, faces turned rigidly toward their master. A hundred feet away the Shining One pulsed and spiralled in its evilly glorious lambency of sparkling plumes. Unhesitating, always with that same high serenity, Lakla and the O'Keefe, hands clasped like little children, drew closer to that wondrous shape. I could not see their faces, but I saw awe fall upon those of the watching dwarfs, and into the burning eyes of Yolara crept a doubt. Closer they drew to the Dweller, and closer, I following them step by step. The Shining One's whirling lessened; its tinklings were faint, almost stilled. It seemed to watch them apprehensively. A silence fell upon us all, a thick silence, brooding, ominous, palpable. Now the pair were face to face with the child of the Three--so near that with one of its misty tentacles it could have enfolded them. And the Shining One drew back! Yes, drew back--and back with it stepped Yolara, the doubt in her eyes deepening. Onward paced the handmaiden and the O'Keefe--and step by step, as they advanced, the Dweller withdrew; its bell notes chiming out, puzzled questioning--half fearful! And back it drew, and back until it had reached the very centre of that platform over the abyss in whose depths pulsed the green fires of earth heart. And there Yolara gripped herself; the hell that seethed within her soul leaped out of her eyes, a cry, a shriek of rage, tore from her lips.