CHAPTER XIV. IN THE DARK CORRIDOR. “All ready, Arturo?” “Yes.” I shouted at him: “Stop that!” He picked up one of the small metal chairs and flung it at me. I ducked. The thing was heavy, and crashed against the bed with a violent clang. I ran at him. He whispered, “Easy, Jeff--you’re strong.” We wrestled. I flung him to the floor of the cell; the table overturned, clanging with metal against metal like a gong. We lay, listening. “Think they’ll hear us?” “Yes.” I had previously noticed sounds coming down the ventilator from above; occasionally the faint blended murmur of voices as though from a room overhead. “Better keep it up,” I whispered. “They may be able to see us.” We rolled, fighting and shouting. In his zeal Arturo turned me over and was sitting on me. We presently heard the sound of our cell door opening; I twisted free, flung him away and leaped to my feet. In the doorway three gray women stood; Arturo lay writhing. [Illustration: _The cell door opened and several Gian women stood there._] “What--you do--what you doing?” One of the women came in. A woman tall, but shorter than Rhana. She wore a similar shield, and a cloak of brown. She was jeweled. I was panting, but alert. The chance might come any time. This woman did not seem armed. The two in the doorway stood keenly watching me. They were all garbed the same; they seemed rather more like high-born attendants upon Rhana, than guards. I said, “He is a fool--I don’t want to be here with him.” My gaze was contemptuous. The other two women had come into the cell. Out of the tail of my eyes I surveyed them. Seemingly unarmed. I could make a run for it. Arturo was alert. Lying groveling, but tense to spring up at my signal. Abruptly I relaxed. Men were in the corridor outside. A group of them. I could see weapons in their dangling hands. “Take me out of here,” I demanded. “He sickens me--he is a fool--I will kill him if I stay here.” The woman deliberated. I fancied I saw admiration for me in her eyes. She said: “You must not fight--bad.” As though we were children! Arturo was up on one elbow. “I don’t like him--I don’t like this room. Take me to another--” He gestured overhead. “Up there--this has no air down here--” If she would do it! I added, “He can come with me--it is the air here--I won’t fight--we’re both hungry--” The woman rasped out a sudden command. Two men came into the room. They were about the woman’s height; stocky fellows, with bullet heads of close-clipped black hair. Guards, evidently, garbed in gleaming suits of metal cloth, wearing bands about their foreheads with gleaming jewels. In their hands, and hanging against their chests were weapons; a curving, knifelike blade; small girds and projectors. The woman spoke imperiously to them. She said to me: “We take you--” Arturo was on his feet, his eyes searching me. “And him?” I demanded. “He stay here.”