Doubtless the best sharpshooters of the enemy had been waiting on the opposite bank for just such an opportunity as this! Several more bullets followed in rapid succession, but a hasty slamming of the great door put a stop to any further incursions of this sort. And Myles found and lighted a pocket flash lamp, before proceeding to the upper floors. The flash would not throw enough light to furnish a target for the Formians. Upstairs there was evidence of considerable confusion; furniture overturned, draperies torn and so forth; but no signs of his family, of the doctors and nurses, or of the servants. His heart was filled with an agony of suspense, his mind with a growing realization that he had arrived too late. Each room he penetrated in turn, searching, ever searching, until at last he reached the great banquet hall on the highest story. And there a sad sight met his eyes! A square altar had been erected in the center of the room. Around it, in a Pythagorian triangle, stood three candlesticks, holding the burned-out stubs of candles. And on the altar, wrapped in the imperial robes of the Kew dynasty, lay the body of a baby Cupian, only a few sangths old! With a cry of anguish Cabot clasped the tiny form to his breast and covered it with kisses. But it gave back no response; it was cold and stiff. For a long time he stayed with his dead. He examined the little toes, with which, but for this cruel civil war, he might have played, “This little pig went to market.” He chafed one tiny hand, and wrapped all its little fingers around a finger of his own, fondly picturing himself as strolling in the castle garden with a little toddler at his side. He knelt by the altar and talked baby talk to the little dead darling. Then wept bitterly and cursed the pride which had kept him from his child in its hour of need. And what of Lilla, more precious to him than this infant whom he had never known? Very evidently she had been taken prisoner rather than killed. Perhaps Yuri would hold her as a hostage, as the price of Cupian surrender. Or more likely he would force her to marry him, as soon as he could dispose of her husband. Whichever was his plan, it behooved Myles to remain alive for Lilla’s sake. If Myles’ own grief could be so sharp at the death of a baby whom he had never known, how much more bitter must have been the grief of her who had held this child warm and gurgling to her breast! And in addition, she was now the captive of the murderer of her father, of her babe, and—for all that she knew—of her husband. Poor dear girl! Cabot roused himself and, clasping the little form close to his breast, carried it outside, and by the light of his flash, dug for it a shallow grave in the castle courtyard. Over the grave he said a Christian prayer, the mound he covered with flowers, and at the head he placed a rude cross.