"God!" whispered Ventnor. "What IS she?"

The woman stepped from the crevice. Not fifty feet from
her were Ruth and Drake and Chiu-Ming, their rigid attitudes
revealing the same shock of awe that had momentarily
paralyzed me.

She looked at them, beckoned them. I saw the two
walk toward her, Chiu-Ming hang back. The great eyes fell
upon Ventnor and myself. She raised a hand, motioned us
to approach.

I turned. There stood the host that had poured down
(he mountain road, horsemen, spearsmen, pikemen--a full
thousand of them. At my right were the scattered company
that had come from the tunnel entrance, threescore
or more.

There seemed a spell upon them. They stood in silence,
like automatons, only their fiercely staring eyes showing
that they were alive.

"Quick," breathed Ventnor.

We ran toward her who had checked death even while
its jaws were closing upon us.

Before we had gone half-way, as though our flight had
broken whatever bonds had bound them, a clamor arose
from the host; a wild shouting, a clanging of swords on