KIRBY looked at her thoughtfully. The mood for discussing all the wonders of this lower world, which had made him bring out the cylinder originally, had quite vanished.
"I suppose," he said, "that anyone who was responsible for the return of the cylinder to its rightful owners, would be held in some respect?"
Naida nodded vigorously, while little lightnings of excitement flickered in her eyes.
"He might be held in more than respect."
"What, then, do you suggest that we do next?"
Again the small lightnings darted, and Naida reached for the cylinder.
"Do you mind if I take it for a moment?"
"Of course not."
Promptly then she faced around.
"Wait here, everyone," she ordered.
And with that she waved the cylinder in a flashing little arc before their eyes, and darted to the door.
It was all so unexpected that she was gone before Kirby could speak. Slowly, with all of the suddenly gay company of girls following after him, he went to the doorway, and stood on the steps leading to the amphitheatre.
A MINUTE passed. He heard voices downstairs. He heard Naida's voice ringing clearly, though he could not distinguish her words. He heard a great cry from a score of male throats. More minutes passed. Words that were low and tense poured out in a rumbling volume. Above the rumble, Naida's voice presently sounded again, clear and sweet, but incisive. Then, when no more than five or six minutes had gone, Kirby heard the clang of the bronze gate at the foot of the steps, heard light, swift footsteps ascending.
"Naida!" he called softly.
She flashed upward toward him around the last curve in the stairway. Straight to his outstretched arms she went.
"It is done! It is done!" she whispered.
"Tell us!" cried first one girl and then others.
Naida drew away from Kirby at last.
"I told the Duca," she said to all of them, "that our leader would keep the cylinder for a period of time equal to one upper-world year. If the Duca grants all the terms of peace which we will ask of him, and if he accepts the upper-world man as our temporal ruler, and all goes well for a year, then we will consider replacing the cylinder where it belongs."
"And what," Kirby asked exultantly, "does the Duca say?"
Suddenly, without warning, Naida dropped before him on one knee, and from that position gazed up at him laughing.
"He says he will make you our King, to govern all temporal affairs within our realm! He is waiting for you to come and hold a conclave now."
"What?"
Still kneeling half in fun, half in sincere reverence, Naida held out the precious, potent cylinder of gold.
"Guard it carefully!" she exclaimed. "So long as you keep it away from the Duca, making him hope to win it back, he will consent to almost anything. Yes, he is waiting with the caciques in the amphitheatre now; waiting to draw up terms of peace."
CHAPTER VIII
TO be King amongst these people! A queer sensation tugged at Kirby's heart as he descended the steps with Naida at his right, and all of her—and his—dainty and gracious friends following after. Yet, intense as his emotion was, never for a second was he able to doubt the evidence of his senses which told him that all of this was real. As they descended the black steps of the tower, Naida's sweetness, her grace, the warm humanity of her, made him humble with gratitude for the extraordinary fortune which had
