had said of her, an atavism; a dear and precious reversion to a
former type of loved and loving ancestor.

Seeing that the prisoner seemed the center of attraction I halted to
view the proceedings. I had not long to wait for presently Lorquas
Ptomel and his retinue of chieftains approached the building and,
signing the guards to follow with the prisoner entered the audience
chamber. Realizing that I was a somewhat favored character, and
also convinced that the warriors did not know of my proficiency in
their language, as I had pleaded with Sola to keep this a secret on
the grounds that I did not wish to be forced to talk with the men
until I had perfectly mastered the Martian tongue, I chanced an
attempt to enter the audience chamber and listen to the proceedings.

The council squatted upon the steps of the rostrum, while below them
stood the prisoner and her two guards. I saw that one of the women
was Sarkoja, and thus understood how she had been present at the
hearing of the preceding day, the results of which she had reported
to the occupants of our dormitory last night. Her attitude toward
the captive was most harsh and brutal. When she held her, she sunk
her rudimentary nails into the poor girl's flesh, or twisted her
arm in a most painful manner. When it was necessary to move from
one spot to another she either jerked her roughly, or pushed her
headlong before her. She seemed to be venting upon this poor
defenseless creature all the hatred, cruelty, ferocity, and spite
of her nine hundred years, backed by unguessable ages of fierce
and brutal ancestors.

The other woman was less cruel because she was entirely indifferent;
if the prisoner had been left to her alone, and fortunately she was