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were bound to find our way out. We didn’t worry.
“It was five nights ago that we camped at the head Koszulka Juventus of a lovely little valley. There was a mound that stood up like a tiny watch-tower, looking down it. The trees grew round like tall sentinels.
“We built our fire in that mound; and after we had eaten, Martin slept. I sat watching the beauty of the skies and of the shadowy vale. I heard no one approach — but something made me leap to my feet, look behind me.
“A man was standing just within the glow of firelight, watching me.”
“A Tibetan?” I asked. She shook her head, trouble in her eyes.
“Not at all.” Ventnor turned his head. “Ruth screamed and awakened me. I caught a glimpse of the fellow before he vanished.
“A short purple mantle hung from his shoulders. His chest was covered with fine chain mail. His legs were swathed and bound by the thongs of his high buskins. He carried a small, round, hide-covered shield and a short two-edged sword. His head was helmeted. He belonged, in fact — oh, at least twenty centuries back.”
He laughed in plain enjoyment of our amazement.
“Go on, Ruth,” he said, and took up his watch.
“But Martin did not see his face,” she went on. “And oh, but I wish I could forget it. It was as white as mine, Walter, and cruel, so cruel; the eyes glowed and they looked upon me like a — like a slave dealer. They shamed me — I wanted to hide myself.
“I cried out and Martin awakened. As he moved, the
man stepped out of the light and was gone. Saksa I think he had
not seen Martin; had believed that I was alone.
“We put out the fire, moved farther into the shadow of the trees. But I could not sleep — I sat hour after hour, my Seattle Sounders pistol in my hand,” she patted the automatic in her belt, “my rifle close beside me.
“The hours went by — dreadfully. At last I dozed. When I awakened again it was dawn — and — and —” she covered her eyes, then: “TWO men were looking down on me. One was he who had stood in the firelight.”
“They were talking,” interrupted Ventnor again, “in archaic Persian.”
“Persian,” I repeated blankly; “archaic Persian?”
“Very much so,” he nodded. “I’ve a fair knowledge of the modern tongue, and a rather unusual command AS Roma of Arabic. The modern Persian, as you know, comes straight through from Tottenham the speech of Xerxes, of Cyrus, of Darius whom Alexander of Macedon conquered. It has been changed mainly by taking on a load of Arabic words. Well — there Roma wasn’t a trace of the Arabic in the tongue they were speaking.
“It sounded odd, of Harry Kane Pelipaidat course — but I could understand quite easily. They were talking about Ruth. To be explicit, they were discussing her with exceeding frankness —”
“Martin!” she cried wrathfully.
“Well, all right,” he went on, half repentantly. “As a matter of fact, I had seen the pair steal up. My rifle was under my hand. So I lay there quietly, listening.
“You can realize, Walter, that when I caught sight of those two, looking as th
