“Nothing,” whispered Arturo contemptuously. “Bhool, you’re an accursed whining--” “Masters, not there.” We were standing at the shrub. “Over there, at the wall--a Middge man lying. He is not dead. I saw him move.” We took another step or two. The ground sharply descended; six feet away there seemed a black opening--in the wall--and a faint movement there. It seemed, not as though some one were lying there, but more like light. I recall that I was tensed to leap backward with the premonition of danger. Arturo’s hand gripped me. “What is it, Jeff? Can you see anything?” We stood tense in the darkness at the brink of the small declivity. Bhool was behind us. He suddenly pushed us violently with a heave of his body. We sprawled forward. I fell to my hands and knees; Arturo was thrown partly upon me. A light was gripping us. It stung; my flesh smarted in its grip--a tangible force of something holding me. I fought with it. Arturo was fighting. “Jeff--” His voice died in a gurgle. We were being lifted, were sliding into a yawning doorway. I could not shout; my throat was taut, and closing. With Arturo struggling, half gripping me, we were drawn, sucked inward. “Jeff--” The darkness closed; the light was phosphorescent, holding us. With fading senses I slid into a blank, black silence. CHAPTER XIII. THE UNDERGROUND CELL. I recovered consciousness to find myself lying on a soft bed. I seemed comfortable, luxurious, with a feeling of well-being and pleasure. I opened my eyes; shuddering memory leaped to me. I sat up. I was on a low couch of soft, furry skins. In a dim, vaulted stone room. On the bed beside me sat Arturo. “Well, Jeff!” He smiled at me; relief in his smile. He seemed uninjured, sitting there waiting anxiously for me to recover consciousness. “You’re not hurt, Jeff? Lean back--take it quietly.” My head was suddenly whirling; I leaned against the stone wall behind me. “They said you’d be all right, Jeff.” My skin was smarting as though it had been burned; but in a moment my head steadied. Strength came to me. I sat up vigorously beside Arturo. “What was it? Where are we?” “In the Castle. They got us. That accursed Bhool--” Memory of Bhool came to me. He had betrayed us. A spy, that Gian. I recalled now, how he had eyed me. How in the garden he had kept edging me away. All under cover of that sniveling cowardice. An actor, that fellow! Arturo laughed wryly. “I guess so, but I imagine he’s a coward just the same. It’s a wonder Fen never suspected him. They want you, Jeff, evidently. She--” “That woman Rhana?” “Yes. She heard of your arrival. Bhool must have been told to get you.” I tried to stand on my feet, but I was still shaky. “How long have we been here?” “I don’t know. I’ve been sitting here watching you, six or eight hours.” “Did you faint, or whatever it was happened to us?”