spell over Guy Sellers. Even at that distance he was fascinated. The moon seemed to glow more brightly that it might bathe her gorgeous body in its soft yellow light. Yellow moon, yellow moon and lanterns glowing in the trees. Her body shimmered like gold, her teeth gleamed white, her eyes shone with the light of diamond fires. His head whirled.
As he gazed at Kum-Kum a hundred disjointed impressions swept through his thoughts. She reminded him of flowers waving in the sun, of sea-foam breaking on a coral beach, of stars and poetry and soft radiance, of Shahrazad and the gorgeous slaves she told about, of wild oranges laved by mountain-dew, of yellow sapphires and opals blazing in the desert glare—strange, wild, discordant tapestry of dreams.
In the hush of the night, long after the lantern-moon had set, he went to her. The air was still, yet there seemed to be a suggestion of music lingering in the silence, as though nature had been singing and had paused on a beautiful note until the last reverberating echo had faded.
Kum-Kum's room was in the far end of the house, and as Guy stealthily crept forward the distance seemed unending. There was an antique lantern burning in the center of the hall, and it emphasized the distant shadows. His heart was beating like a sledge-hammer and he was surprized that the noise of it did not awaken everyone. Finally he arrived at Kum-Kum's door. He hesitated before pushing it open. His courage failed him, but his misgivings were fleeting. The next moment he opened the door and silently entered the room. Even a cat could not have glided more softly.
Before the vision of Kum-Kum he stopped. She was lying asleep on a low bed near the open window. Her blue-black hair fell about her shoulders untrammeled by comb or hair-pins. Her lips were smiling as though her dreams were pleasant. Over her slender form a coverlet was drawn, a coverlet of sheerest fabric. Beside her burned a copper bowl of fragrant incense. It cast off an eery blue glow. As the light fell on her pungent yellow skin, it made a green goddess of her.
Softly Guy placed his arms about her. The coverlet slipped away, revealing her lovely body dressed in a garment of tapa cloth as soft as rose-petals. As her warm body touched his, he trembled. From her hair an elusive perfume floated. At that moment everything on earth was forgotten. Only Kum-Kum mattered, Kum-Kum the pagan, the exotic, the daring, vivid, glowing girl of gold.
Back through the halls he went. He felt no fear. He was not nervous. He cared naught for Fernay Corday, nor even for the wrath of Jolly Cauldron. The strength of her attraction had made him as strong as Jason.
Kum-Kum did not awaken. He carried her as tenderly as though she had been a fragile orchid, an orchid of priceless worth. All the beauty of the Arabian Nights seemed dimmed by the glory of her. He longed to kiss her, to feel her soft warm lips against his. But he refrained because he was afraid, afraid of what might happen afterward. To kiss those lush red lips would have been as dangerous as plunging into the Maelstrom. Even the thought of her kisses made his head swim. And Jolly Cauldron had bought her. The thought made him shudder. And he pressed the lovely Kum-Kum a little closer to him. As he emerged from the house into the open air, a soft flower-sweetened breeze cooled his burning brow.
It was very dark in the coconut grove. The moon had set and the lamps that had hung to the tree-spikes had been re-
