<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></SPAN>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
<h3>Nalboon of Mardonale</h3>
<p>As the Skylark approached the shore, its occupants
heard a rapid succession of heavy detonations,
apparently coming from the direction in which
they were traveling.</p>
<p>"Wonder what that racket is?" asked Seaton.</p>
<p>"It sounds like big guns," said Crane, and DuQuesne
nodded agreement.</p>
<p>"Big guns is right. They're shooting high explosive
shells, too, or I never heard any. Even allowing
for the density of the air, that kind of noise isn't made
by pop-guns."</p>
<p>"Let's go see what's doing," and Seaton started to
walk toward one of the windows with his free, swinging
stride. Instantly he was a-sprawl, the effort necessary
to carry his weight upon the Earth's surface lifting
him into the air in a succession of ludicrous hops,
but he soon recovered himself and walked normally.</p>
<p>"I forgot this two-fifths gravity stuff," he laughed.
"Walk as though we had only a notch of power on and
it goes all right. It sure is funny to feel so light when
we're so close to the ground."</p>
<p>He closed the doors to keep out a part of the noise
and advanced the speed lever a little, so that the vessel
tilted sharply under the pull of the almost horizontal
bar.</p>
<p>"Go easy," cautioned Crane. "We do not want to
get in the way of one of their shells. They may be
of a different kind than those we are familiar with."</p>
<p>"Right—easy it is. We'll stay forty miles above
them, if necessary."</p>
<p>As the great speed of the ship rapidly lessened the
distance, the sound grew heavier and clearer—like
one continuous explosion. So closely did one deafening
concussion follow another that the ear could not distinguish
the separate reports.</p>
<p>"I see them," simultaneously announced Crane, who
was seated at one of the forward windows searching
the country with his binoculars, and Seaton, who, from
the pilot's seat, could see in any direction.</p>
<p>The others hurried to the windows with their glasses
and saw an astonishing sight.</p>
<p>"Aerial battleships, eight of 'em!" exclaimed Seaton,<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_554" id="Page_554"></SPAN></span>
"as big as the Idaho. Four of 'em are about the same
shape as our battleships. No wings—they act like
helicopters."</p>
<p>"Four of them are battleships, right enough, but
what about the other four?" asked DuQuesne. "They
are not ships or planes or anything else that I ever
heard of."</p>
<p>"They are animals," asserted Crane. "Machines
never were and never will be built like that."</p>
<p>As the Skylark cautiously approached, it was evident to
the watchers that four of the contestants were undoubtedly
animals. Here indeed was a new kind of animal, an
animal able to fight on even terms with a first-class battleship!
Frightful aerial monsters they were. Each
had an enormous, torpedo-shaped body, with scores of
prodigiously long tentacles like those of a devil-fish
and a dozen or more great, soaring wings. Even at
that distance they could see the row of protruding eyes
along the side of each monstrous body and the terrible,
prow-like beaks tearing through the metal of the warships
opposing them. They could see, by the reflection
of the light from the many suns, that each monster was
apparently covered by scales and joints of some transparent
armor. That it was real and highly effective
armor there could be no doubt, for each battleship
bristled with guns of heavy caliber and each gun was
vomiting forth a continuous stream of fire. Shells
bursting against each of the creatures made one continuous
blaze, and the uproar was indescribable—an uninterrupted
cataclysm of sound appalling in its intensity.</p>
<hr style='width: 45%;' />
<p>The battle was brief. Soon all four of the battleships
had crumpled to the ground, their crews absorbed
by the terrible sucking arms or devoured by the
frightful beaks. They did not die in vain—three of
the monsters had been blown to atoms by shells which
had apparently penetrated their armor. The fourth was
pursuing something, which Seaton now saw was a fleet
of small airships, which had flown away from the scene
of conflict. Swift as they were, the monster covered
three feet to their one.</p>
<p>"We can't stand for anything like that," cried Seaton,
as he threw on the power and the Skylark leaped ahead.
"Get ready to bump him off, Mart, when I jerk him
away. He acts hard-boiled, so give him a real one—fifty
milligrams!"</p>
<p>Sweeping on with awful speed the monster seized the
largest and most gaily decorated plane in his hundred-foot
tentacles just as the Skylark came within sighting
distance. In four practically simultaneous movements
Seaton sighted the attractor at the ugly beak, released
all its power, pointed the main bar of the Skylark directly
upward, and advanced his speed lever. There
was a crash of rending metal as the thing was torn loose
from the plane and jerked a hundred miles into the
air, struggling so savagely in that invisible and incomprehensible
grip that the three-thousand-ton mass of the
Skylark tossed and pitched like a child's plaything.
Those inside her heard the sharp, spiteful crack of the
machine-gun, and an instant later they heard a report
that paralyzed their senses, even inside the vessel and in
the thin air of their enormous elevation, as the largest
X-plosive bullet prepared by the inventors struck full
upon the side of the hideous body. There was no smoke,
no gas or vapor of any kind—only a huge volume of
intolerable flame as the energy stored within the atoms
of copper, instantaneously liberated, heated to incandescence
and beyond all the atmosphere within a radius
of hundreds of feet. The monster disappeared utterly,
and Seaton, with unerring hand, reversed the bar and
darted back down toward the fleet of airships. He
reached them in time to focus the attractor upon the
wrecked and helpless plane in the middle of its five-thousand-foot
fall and lowered it gently to the ground,
surrounded by the fleet.</p>
<p>The Skylark landed easily beside the wrecked machine,
and the wanderers saw that their vessel was completely
surrounded by a crowd of people—men and
women identical in form and feature with themselves.
They were a superbly molded race, the men fully as
large as Seaton and DuQuesne; the women, while
smaller than the men, were noticeably taller than the
two women in the car. The men wore broad collars of
metal, numerous metallic ornaments, and heavily-jeweled
leather belts and shoulder-straps which were
hung with weapons of peculiar patterns. The women
carried no weapons, but were even more highly decorated
than were the men—each slender, perfectly-formed
body scintillated with the brilliance of hundreds
of strange gems, flashing points of fire. Jeweled
bands of metal and leather restrained their carefully-groomed
hair; jeweled collars encircled their throats;
jeweled belts, jeweled bracelets, jeweled anklets, each
added its quota of brilliance to the glittering whole. The
strangers wore no clothing, and their smooth skins shone
a dark, livid, utterly indescribable color in the peculiar,
unearthly, yellowish-bluish-green glare of the light.
Green their skins undoubtedly were, but not any shade
of green visible in the Earthly spectrum. The "whites"
of their eyes were a light yellowish-green. The heavy
hair of the women and the close-cropped locks of the
men were green as well—a green so dark as to be almost
black, as were also their eyes.</p>
<p>"Well, what d'you know about that?" pondered Seaton,
dazedly. "They're human, right enough, but ye
gods, what a color!"</p>
<p>"It is hard to tell how much of that color is real,
and how much of it is due to this light," answered
Crane. "Wait until you get outside, away from our
daylight lamps, and you will probably look like a
Chinese puzzle. As to the form, it is logical to suppose
that wherever conditions are similar to those upon the
Earth, and the age is anywhere nearly the same, development
would be along the same lines as with us."</p>
<p>"That's right, too. Dottie, your hair will sure look
gorgeous in this light. Let's go out and give the natives
a treat!"</p>
<p>"I wouldn't look like that for a million dollars!" retorted
Dorothy, "and if I'm going to look like that I
won't get out of the ship, so there!"</p>
<p>"Cheer up, Dottie, you won't look like that. Your
hair will be black in this light."</p>
<p>"Then what color will mine be?" asked Margaret.</p>
<p>Seaton glanced at her black hair.</p>
<p>"Probably a very dark and beautiful green," he
grinned, his gray eyes sparkling, "but we'll have to wait<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_555" id="Page_555"></SPAN></span>
and see. Friends and fellow-countrymen, I've got a
hunch that this is going to be SOME visit. How about
it, shall we go ahead with it?"</p>
<p>Dorothy went up to him, her face bright with eagerness.</p>
<p>"Oh, what a lark! Let's go!"</p>
<hr style='width: 45%;' />
<p>Even in DuQuesne's cold presence, Margaret's eyes
sought those of her lover, and his sleeve, barely
touching her arm, was enough to send a dancing thrill
along it.</p>
<p>"Onward, men of Earth!" she cried, and Seaton,
stepping up to the window, rapped sharply upon the
glass with the butt of his pistol and raised both hands
high above his head in the universal sign of peace.
In response, a man of Herculean mold, so splendidly
decorated that his harness was one blazing mass of
jewels, waved his arm and shouted a command. The
crowd promptly fell back, leaving a clear space of several
hundred yards. The man, evidently one in high
command, unbuckled his harness, dropping every
weapon, and advanced toward the Skylark, both arms
upraised in Seaton's gesture.</p>
<p>Seaton went to the door and started to open it.</p>
<p>"Better talk to him from inside," cautioned Crane.</p>
<p>"I don't think so, Mart. He's peaceable, and I've got
my gun in my pocket. Since he doesn't know what
clothes are he'll think I'm unarmed, which is as it
should be; and if he shows fight, it won't take more
than a week for me to get into action."</p>
<p>"All right, go on. DuQuesne and I will come along."</p>
<p>"Absolutely not. He's alone, so I've got to be. I
notice that some of his men are covering us, though.
You might do the same for them, with a couple of the
machine guns."</p>
<p>Seaton stepped out of the car and went to meet the
stranger. When they had approached to within a few
feet of each other the stranger stopped. He flexed his
left arm smartly, so that the finger-tips touched his left
ear, and smiled broadly, exposing a row of splendid,
shining, green teeth. Then he spoke, a meaningless
jumble of sounds. His voice, though light and thin,
nevertheless seemed to be of powerful timbre.</p>
<p>Seaton smiled in return and saluted.</p>
<p>"Hello, Chief. I get your idea all right, and we're
glad you're peaceable, but your language doesn't mean
a thing in my young life."</p>
<p>The Chief tapped himself upon the chest, saying distinctly
and impressively:</p>
<p>"Nalboon."</p>
<p>"Nalboon," repeated Seaton, and added, pointing to himself:</p>
<p>"Seaton."</p>
<p>"See Tin," answered the stranger, and again indicating
himself, "Domak gok Mardonale."</p>
<p>"That must be his title," thought Seaton rapidly.
"Have to give myself one, I guess."</p>
<p>"Boss of the Road," he replied, drawing himself up
with pride.</p>
<p>The introduction made, Nalboon pointed to the
wrecked plane, inclined his head in thanks, and turned
to his people with one arm upraised, shouting an order
in which Seaton could distinguish something that
sounded like "See Tin, Bass uvvy Rood." Instantly
every right arm in the assemblage was aloft, that of
each man bearing a weapon, while the left arms snapped
into the peculiar salute and a mighty cry arose as all
repeated the name and title of the distinguished visitor.</p>
<p>Seaton turned to the Skylark, motioning to Crane to
open the door.</p>
<p>"Bring out one of those big four-color signal rockets,
Mart!" he called. "They're giving us a royal reception—let's
acknowledge it right."</p>
<hr style='width: 45%;' />
<p>The party appeared, Crane carrying the huge
rocket with an air of deference. As they approached,
Seaton shrugged one shoulder and his cigarette-case
appeared in his hand. Nalboon started, and
in spite of his utmost efforts at self-control, he glanced
at it in surprise. The case flew open and Seaton, taking
a cigarette, extended the case.</p>
<p>"Smoke?" he asked affably. The other took one, but
showed plainly that he had no idea of the use to which
it was to be put. This astonishment of the stranger at
a simple sleight-of-hand feat and his apparent ignorance
of tobacco emboldened Seaton. Reaching into his
mouth, he pulled out a flaming match, at which Nalboon
started violently. While all the natives watched in
amazement, Seaton lighted the cigarette, and after half
consuming it in two long inhalations, he apparently
swallowed the remainder, only to bring it to light again.
Having smoked it, he apparently swallowed the butt,
with evident relish.</p>
<p>"They don't know anything about matches or smoking,"
he said, turning to Crane. "This rocket will tie
them up in a knot. Step back, everybody."</p>
<p>He bowed deeply to Nalboon, pulling a lighted match
from his ear as he did so, and lighted the fuse. There
was a roar, a shower of sparks, a blaze of colored fire
as the great rocket flew upward; but to Seaton's surprise,
Nalboon took it quite as a matter of course, saluting
as an acknowledgment of the courtesy.</p>
<p>Seaton motioned to his party to approach, and turned
to Crane.</p>
<p>"Better not, Dick. Let him think that you are the
king of everything in sight."</p>
<p>"Not on your life. If he is one king, we are two,"
and he introduced Crane, with great ceremony, to the
Domak as the "Boss of the Skylark," at which the
salute by his people was repeated.</p>
<p>Nalboon then shouted an order and a company of
soldiers led by an officer came toward them, surrounding
a small group of people, apparently prisoners. These
captives, seven men and seven women, were much
lighter in color than the rest of the gathering, having
skins of a ghastly, pale shade, practically the same color
as the whites of their eyes. In other bodily aspects they
were the same as their captors in appearance, save that
they were entirely naked except for the jeweled metal
collars worn by all and a massive metal belt worn by
one man. They walked with a proud and lofty carriage,
scorn for their captors in every step.</p>
<p>Nalboon barked an order to the prisoners. They
stared in defiance, motionless, until the man wearing
the belt who had studied Seaton closely, spoke a few
words in a low tone, when they all prostrated themselves.<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_556" id="Page_556"></SPAN></span>
<ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note: The original read 'Naloon'.">Nalboon</ins> then waved his hand, giving the whole
group to Seaton as slaves. Seaton, with no sign of his
surprise, thanked the giver and motioned his slaves to
rise. They obeyed and placed themselves behind the
party—two men and two women behind Seaton and
the same number behind Crane; one man and one
woman behind each of the others.</p>
<p>Seaton then tried to make Nalboon understand that
they wanted copper, pointing to his anklet, the only
copper in sight. The chief instantly removed the trinket
and handed it to Seaton; who, knowing by the
gasp of surprise of the guard that it was some powerful
symbol, returned it with profuse apologies. After
trying in vain to make the other understand what he
wanted, he led him into the Skylark and showed him the
remnant of the power-bar. He showed him its original
size and indicated the desired number by counting to
sixteen upon his fingers. Nalboon nodded his comprehension
and going outside, pointed upward toward the
largest of the eleven suns visible, motioning its rising
and setting, four times.</p>
<p>He then invited the visitors, in unmistakable sign
language, to accompany him as guests of honor, but
Seaton refused.</p>
<p>"Lead on, MacDuff, we follow," he replied, explaining
his meaning by signs as they turned to enter the
vessel. The slaves followed closely until Crane remonstrated.</p>
<p>"We don't want them aboard, do we, Dick? There
are too many of them."</p>
<p>"All right," Seaton replied, and waved them away.
As they stepped back the guard seized the nearest, a
woman, and forced her to her knees; while a man,
adorned with a necklace of green human teeth and
carrying a shining broadsword, prepared to decapitate
her.</p>
<p>"We must take them with us, I see," said Crane, as
he brushed the guards aside. Followed by the slaves,
the party entered the Skylark, and the dark green people
embarked in their airplanes and helicopters.</p>
<p>Nalboon rode in a large and gaily-decorated plane,
which led the fleet at its full speed of six hundred miles
an hour, the Skylark taking a placing a few hundred
yards above the flagship.</p>
<p>"I don't get these folks at all, Mart," said Seaton,
after a moment's silence. "They have machines far
ahead of anything we have on Earth and big guns that
shoot as fast as machine-guns, and yet are scared to
death at a little simple sleight-of-hand. They don't
seem to understand matches at all, and yet treat fire-works
as an every-day occurrence."</p>
<p>"We will have to wait until we know them better,"
replied Crane, and DuQuesne added:</p>
<p>"From what I have seen, their power seems to be
all electrical. Perhaps they aren't up with us in chemistry,
even though they are ahead of us in mechanics?"</p>
<hr style='width: 45%;' />
<p>Flying above a broad, but rapid and turbulent
stream, the fleet soon neared a large city, and the
visitors from Earth gazed with interest at this metropolis
of the unknown world. The buildings were all the
same height, flat-roofed, and arranged in squares very
much as our cities are arranged. There were no streets,
the spaces between the buildings being park-like areas,
evidently laid out for recreation, amusement, and sport.
There was no need for streets; all traffic was in the
air. The air seemed full of flying vehicles, darting in
all directions, but it was soon evident that there was
exact order in the apparent confusion, each class of
vessel and each direction of traffic having its own level.
Eagerly the three men studied the craft, which ranged
in size from one-man helicopters, little more than single
chairs flying about in the air, up to tremendous
multiplane freighters, capable of carrying thousands of
tons.</p>
<p>Flying high over the city to avoid its congested air-lanes,
the fleet descended toward an immense building
just outside the city proper, and all landed upon its
roof save the flagship, which led the Skylark to a landing-dock
nearby—a massive pile of metal and stone,
upon which Nalboon and his retinue stood to welcome
the guests. After Seaton had anchored the vessel immovably
by means of the attractor, the party disembarked,
Seaton remarking with a grin:</p>
<p>"Don't be surprised at anything I do, folks. I'm a
walking storehouse of junk of all kinds, so that if occasion
arises I can put on a real exhibition."</p>
<p>As they turned toward their host, a soldier, in his
eagerness to see the strangers, jostled another. Without
a word two keen swords flew from their scabbards
and a duel to the death ensued. The visitors stared in
amazement, but no one else paid any attention to the
combat, which was soon over; the victor turning away
from the body of his opponent and resuming his place
without creating a ripple of interest.</p>
<p>Nalboon led the way into an elevator, which dropped
rapidly to the ground-floor level. Massive gates were
thrown open, and through ranks of people prostrate
upon their faces the party went out into the palace
grounds of the Domak, or Emperor, of the great nation
of Mardonale.</p>
<p>Never before had Earthly eyes rested upon such
scenes of splendor. Every color and gradation of their
peculiar spectrum was present, in solid, liquid, and gas.
The carefully-tended trees were all colors of the rainbow,
as were the grasses and flowers along the walks.
The fountains played streams of many and constantly-changing
hues, and even the air was tinted and perfumed,
swirling through metal arches in billows of
ever-varying colors and scents. Colors and combinations
of colors impossible to describe were upon every
hand, fantastically beautiful in that peculiar, livid light.
Diamonds and rubies, their colors so distorted by the
green radiance as to be almost unrecognizable; emeralds
glowing with an intense green impossible in earthly
light, together with strange gems peculiar to this
strange world, sparkled and flashed from railings,
statues, and pedestals throughout the ground.</p>
<p>"Isn't this gorgeous, Dick?" whispered Dorothy. "But
what do I look like? I wish I had a mirror—you look
simply awful. Do I look like you do?"</p>
<p>"Not being able to see myself, I can't say, but I
imagine you do. You look as you would under a
county-fair photographer's mercury-vapor arc lamps,
only worse. The colors can't be described. You might
as well try to describe cerise to a man born blind as to<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_558" id="Page_558"></SPAN></span>
try to express these colors in English, but as near as I
can come to it, your eyes are a dark sort of purplish
green, with the whites of your eyes and your teeth a
kind of plush green. Your skin is a pale yellowish
green, except for the pink of your cheeks, which is a
kind of black, with orange and green mixed up in it.
Your lips are black, and your hair is a funny kind of
color, halfway between black and old rose, with a little
green and...."</p>
<p>"Heavens, Dick, stop! That's enough!" choked Dorothy.
"We all look like hobgoblins. We're even worse
than the natives."</p>
<p>"Sure we are. They were born here and are acclimated
to it—we are strangers and aren't. I would like
to see what one of these people would look like in
Washington."</p>
<hr style='width: 45%;' />
<p>Nalboon led them into the palace proper and
into a great dining hall, where a table was already
prepared for the entire party. This room was splendidly
decorated with jewels, its many windows being
simply masses of gems. The walls were hung with a
cloth resembling silk, which fell to the floor in shimmering
waves of color.</p>
<p>Woodwork there was none. Doors, panels, tables,
and chairs were cunningly wrought of various metals.
Seaton and DuQuesne could recognize a few of them,
but for the most part they were unknown upon the
Earth; and were, like the jewels and vegetation of this
strange world, of many and various peculiar colors.
A closer inspection of one of the marvelous tapestries
showed that it also was of metal, its threads numbering
thousands to the inch. Woven of many different metals,
of vivid but harmonious colors in a strange and intricate
design, it seemed to writhe as its colors changed
with every variation in the color of the light; which,
pouring from concealed sources, was reflected by the
highly-polished metal and <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note: The original read 'inumerable'.">innumerable</ins> jewels of the
lofty, domed ceiling.</p>
<p>"Oh ... isn't this too perfectly gorgeous?" breathed
Dorothy. "I'd give anything for a dress made out of
that stuff, Dick. Cloth-of-gold is common by comparison!"</p>
<p>"Would you dare wear it, Dottie?" asked Margaret.</p>
<p>"<i>Would</i> I? I'd wear it in a minute if I could only
get it. It would take Washington by storm!"</p>
<p>"I'll try to get a piece of it, then," smiled Seaton.
"I'll see about it while we are getting the copper."</p>
<p>"We'd better be careful in choosing what we eat
here, Seaton," suggested DuQuesne, as the Domak himself
led them to the table.</p>
<p>"We sure had. With a copper ocean and green
teeth, I shouldn't be surprised if copper, arsenic, and
other such trifles formed a regular part of their diet."</p>
<p>"The girls and I will wait for you two chemists to
approve every dish before we try it, then," said Crane.</p>
<p>Nalboon placed his guests, the light-skinned slaves
standing at attention behind them, and numerous servants,
carrying great trays, appeared. The servants
were intermediate in color between the light and the
dark races, with dull, unintelligent faces, but quick and
deft in their movements.</p>
<p>The first course—a thin, light wine, served in metal
goblets—was approved by the chemists, and the dinner
was brought on. There were mighty joints of various
kinds of meat; birds and fish, both raw and cooked in
many ways; green, pink, purple, and white vegetables
and fruits. The majordomo held each dish up to Seaton
for inspection, the latter waving away the fish and
the darkest green foods, but approving the others.
Heaping plates, or rather metal trays, of food were
placed before the diners, and the attendants behind
their chairs handed them peculiar implements—knives
with razor edges, needle-pointed stilettoes instead of
forks, and wide, flexible spatulas, which evidently were
to serve the purposes of both forks and spoons.</p>
<p>"I simply can't eat with these things!" exclaimed
Dorothy in dismay, "and I don't like to drink soup out
of a can, so there!"</p>
<p>"That's where my lumberjack training comes in
handy," grinned Seaton. "With this spatula I can eat
faster than I could with two forks. What do you want,
girls, forks or spoons, or both?"</p>
<p>"Both, please."</p>
<p>Seaton reached out over the table, seizing forks and
spoons from the air and passing them to the others,
while the natives stared in surprise. The Domak took
a bowl filled with brilliant blue crystals from the major-domo,
sprinkled his food liberally with the substance,
and passed it to Seaton, who looked at the crystals
attentively.</p>
<p>"Copper sulphate," he said to Crane. "It's a good
thing they add it at the table instead of cooking with it,
or we'd be out of luck."</p>
<p>Waving the copper sulphate away, he again reached
out, this time producing a pair of small salt-and
pepper-shakers, which he passed to the Domak after
he had seasoned the dishes before him. Nalboon tasted
the pepper cautiously and smiled in delight, half-emptying
the shaker upon his plate. He then sprinkled a few
grains of salt into his palm, stared at them with an
expression of doubting amazement, and after a few
rapid sentences poured them into a dish held by an
officer who had sprung to his side. The officer studied
them closely, then carefully washed his chief's hand.
Nalboon turned to Seaton, plainly asking for the salt-cellar.</p>
<p>"Sure, old top. Keep 'em both, there's lots more
where those came from," as he produced several more
sets in the same mysterious way and handed them to
Crane, who in turn passed them to the others.</p>
<hr style='width: 45%;' />
<p>The meal progressed merrily, with much conversation
in the sign-language between the two parties.
It was evident that Nalboon, usually stern and reticent,
was in an unusually pleasant mood. The viands, though
of peculiar flavor, were in the main pleasing to the
palates of the Earthly visitors.</p>
<p>"This fruit salad, or whatever it is, is divine," remarked
Dorothy, after an experimental bite. "May
we eat as much as we like, or had we better just eat a
little?"</p>
<p>"Go as far as you like," returned her lover. "I
wouldn't recommend it, as a steady diet, as I imagine
everything contains copper and other heavy metals in
noticeable amounts, and probably considerable arsenic,<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_559" id="Page_559"></SPAN></span>
but for a few days it can't very well hurt us much."</p>
<p>After the meal, Nalboon bade them a ceremonious
farewell, and they were escorted to a series of five
connecting rooms by the royal usher, escorted by an
entire company of soldiers, who mounted guard outside
the doors. Gathered in one room, they discussed
sleeping arrangements. The girls insisted that they
would sleep together, and that the men should occupy
the rooms at either side. As the girls turned away, the
four slaves followed.</p>
<p>"We don't want these people, and I can't make them
go away!" cried Dorothy.</p>
<p>"I don't want them, either," replied Seaton, <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note: Double quote mark inserted.">"</ins>but if
we chase them out they'll get their heads chopped off.
You girls take the women and we'll take the men."</p>
<p>Seaton waved all the women into the girls' room,
but they paused irresolutely. One of them went up to
the man wearing the metal belt, evidently their leader,
and spoke to him rapidly as she threw her arms around
his neck. He shook his head, motioning toward Seaton
several times as he spoke to her reassuringly. With
his arm about her tenderly, he led her to the door, the
other women following. Crane and DuQuesne having
gone to their rooms with their attendants, the man
wearing the belt drew the blinds and turned to assist
Seaton in taking off his clothes.</p>
<p>"I never had a valet before, but go as far as you
like if it pleases you," remarked Seaton, as he began
to throw off his clothes. A multitude of small articles
fell from their hiding-places in his garments as he removed
them. Almost stripped, Seaton stretched vigorously,
the muscles writhing and rippling in great ridges
under the satin skin of his broad back and mighty arms
and shoulders as he filled his capacious lungs and
twisted about, working off the stiffness caused by the
days of comparative confinement.</p>
<p>The four slaves stared in open-mouthed astonishment
at this display of muscular development and conversed
among themselves as they gathered up Seaton's
discarded clothing. Their leader picked up a salt-shaker,
a couple of silver knives and forks, and some
other articles, and turned to Seaton, apparently asking
permission to do something with them. Seaton nodded
assent carelessly and turned to his bed. As he did so,
he heard a slight clank of arms in the hall as the guard
was changed, and lifting the blind a trifle he saw that
guards were stationed outside as well. As he went to
bed, he wondered whether the guards were guards of
honor or jailers; whether he and his party were honored
guests or prisoners.</p>
<p>Three of the slaves, at a word from their chief,
threw themselves upon the floor and slept, but he himself
did not rest. Opening the apparently solid metal
belt, he took out a great number of small tools, many
tiny instruments, and several spools of insulated wire.
He then took the articles Seaton had given him, taking
great pains not to spill a single grain of salt, and set
to work. Hour after hour he labored, a strange, exceedingly
complex instrument taking form under his
clever fingers.<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_610" id="Page_610"></SPAN></span></p>
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