until the tearing sobs subsided. For a little while there was silence within the room.
Without changing her position, Nada began to speak. "It was my son who was with you. Twelve summers before my capture I bore him; his father gave him his own name. And now he is dead. He is dead."
A draft of air from the window above caused the candle flame to waver, setting the shadows dancing.
Nada sat up and dried her eyes. "I will not cry any more," she said quietly. "Let us talk of other things."
Dylara pressed her hand in quick understanding. "Of course. Tell me, Nada, what will happen to me in Sephar?"
"You are a slave," Nada replied, "and belong to Urim, whose own warriors captured you. Perhaps you will be given certain duties in the palace, or the mate or daughter of some noble may ask for you as a handmaiden. As a rule they treat us kindly; but if we are troublesome they whip us, or sometimes give us to the priests. That is the worst of all."
"They have gods, then?" Dylara asked.
"Only one, who is both good and evil. If they fall in battle, He has caused it; if they come through untouched, He has helped them."
The Cro-Magnon girl could not grasp this strange contradiction, for she knew certain gods sought to destroy man, while other gods tried to protect him . . .
"Then I must spend the rest of my life as a slave?" she asked.
"Yes—unless some free man asks for you as a mate. And that may happen because you are very beautiful."
The girl shook her head. "I do not want that," she declared. "I want only to return to my father and people."
"It will be best," Nada said, "to give up that foolish dream. Sometimes cave-men escape from Sephar; the women, never."
She rose, saying: "I must leave you now. The guards will be wondering what has kept me. Tomorrow I will come again."
The two embraced. "Farewell, Nada," whispered the girl. "I shall try to sleep again. Being here does not seem so bad, now that I know you."
***
Tharn regained his feet quickly after the drop from the wall, and looked about. Failing to detect any cause for immediate alarm, he set out along a broad street, hugging the buildings and keeping well within the shadows. The moon was quite high by now, the strong light flooding the deserted streets and bringing every object into bold relief.
The man of the caves did not have the slightest idea as to how he might locate the girl he loved; he proposed, however, to pit his wit and cunning, together with the stone knife and grass rope against the entire city, if necessary, until he stumbled across a clue of some sort that would bring them together. How he expected to snatch Dylara from her captors and win through to the forest and plains he did not stop to consider—time enough for that when she was found.
Abruptly the street along which he was moving ended, crossed here by another roadway. Down this side street a few yards, and on the opposite side, a huge stone building loomed, its windows barred by slender columns of stone. To Tharn's inexperienced eyes this appeared to be a prison of some sort; and as it was the first of its kind he had noticed, he decided to investigate—that is, if a means of entry could be found. The hope that Dylara might be held be-
