“You’re not very coherent, Arturo. But you’re right enough; it seems to me I know almost nothing about all this.” He was sitting on the bed, chin in hand, staring. I sat down beside him. “See here, Arturo--haven’t you taken a little too much on yourself?” He seemed suddenly breaking. This pale, slender boy of nineteen was trembling. He stared at me. “What do you mean?” “You overrode your father. Easy, lad, I want to talk plainly to you. You told your father nothing. Nor Polly--nor me. You’ve got me down here into this--” “I wouldn’t voluntarily endanger you, Jeff. I didn’t mean--” “Don’t be a fool!” “I’ve been trying to do my best.” “Of course you have. But I’m trying to show you. You take too much on yourself.” He stared at his feet. “I’ve only been doing my best.” “I know. But I’m trying now, Arturo, to show you--I’m older than you are--maybe I’ve got more sense and more judgment than you have--” He looked up and smiled. “Of course you have. I haven’t been reticent, or I don’t want to be--” “You haven’t made much effort to take any one into your confidence, Arturo.” “You’re wrong, Jeff. Old Fen, and Tad--they wouldn’t say I’ve tried to run them, or force my ideas--” “I’m talking about myself. And your father and Polly, up there in the Dolphin when this thing began. We may be in a desperate position now, Arturo.” “We are. This horrible woman--” “I know you’re trying to help our world up there, Nereid, and these Middge people as you call them--you’re not afraid for yourself. But, Arturo, we may never get out of here alive. The help we could have given--don’t you see? You may be wrong. I want to start now, if it isn’t too late. I want a chance to use my own judgment, not yours, Arturo. Nor Nereid’s, nor Fen’s--nobody’s but my own, understand?” The rasp of the cell door opening brought us to our feet. It swung slowly outward. In the corridor stood the woman Rhana. * * * * * She stooped and came quietly in. At the doorway, which remained open, a gray woman stood guard. Rhana advanced to the center of the cell. The light from above slanted down on her, and her metal headdress gleamed--a white banded thing of carved metal. Tiny chains with flashing jewels hung from it; at her forehead, a metal image, hideous as a gargoyle, raised its beak--a grotesque bird screaming defiance, a red gem for its single eye. The thing was so hideous, it gave her face beneath it a greater beauty. She had come in with a barefoot tread; her body, incased in the gray heart-shaped sheath, was catlike. A giant feline.