"Belnar is not here," he said.

"That is impossible," I said. "He must be here, though perhaps in seclusion."

"It is though that he is here," said the man, "that he is here in seclusion, but he is not. He was here, but he left. When you leave, pretend that you have seen him here. All are to believe that he is here, in his compartments."

"He could not have left," I said. "Surely, had he done so, he would have passed me on the bridges."

"Do not be naive," said the man.

"I understand," I said. I had clearly underestimated this Belnar. How naive, in particular, I had been, to suppose that I might locate him this simply. Probably even the men outside thought him within. How could I find him, if even the majority of his men did not know where he was? He might be anywhere in the city. I was furious. But he had come here earlier, it seemed. I had a good idea why. He had thought to guarantee the safekeeping of something of great importance. Doubtless he had taken it with him. He had not passed me, with a retinue, on the bridges. There was, of course, another exit, another way out.

"Where is Belnar?" I asked.

"I do not know," said the man.

I suppose he might be telling the truth. Doubtless few knew the location of the Ubar.

"What of my report? I asked.

"Deliver it to Flaminius, the confidant of the ubar," suggested the man.

"Of course," I said, preparing to withdraw. I was extremely angry. That would be all I needed, I thought, to report myself in to Flaminius. there was suddenly a shouting outside. One of the door guards, accompanied by two of the men I had brought with me, were at the door.

"What is wrong?" demanded the fellow with me.

The men were shuddering. Others were behind them. One of those in the background turned aside and threw up into the grass. "Lysimachus is dead," said the door guard.

The fellow from within, who seemed to be chief among those on the premises, and myself, followed men through the garden. In a moment we had come to an open space. "I found it there," said one of the men who had come with me, indicating a place in some bushes. "I pulled it out here."

"Aiii," said a man, looking down.

"It is Lysimachus," confirmed a man.

"It was Lysimachus," said a man.

"It was part of him," said another.

Most of the throat was gone.

I crouched beside the body. I touched the tissues, the stained darknesses on the body "This was done perhaps an Ahn ago," I said.

"What could have done this?" whispered the officer with me.

"Can you not guess?" I asked.

"I dare not," he whispered.

"Such a thing is loose in the city?" asked a man.

"Obviously," I said.

"Why should it come here?" asked a man.

"Because," I said, "like a man, it is more than a beast."

"I do not understand," said the man.

"It is looking for something," I said.

I looked down grimly at the body.

"Poor Lysimachus," said a man.

"Horrible," said a man.

The kill, as these fellows would have had difficulty realizing, had actually, given the usual manner of such attacks, been rather neatly done. Its manner, considering the sort of entity which had been involved, had almost suggested refinement. It had wanted to do little more than silence a man. Indeed, only part of an arm had been fed upon and that, I suspected, had been only to generate the strength to pursue a less material objective. The whole business, in its manner of accomplishment, suggested an almost terrifying patience and restraint, given the size and needs, the ferocity and energy, of the entity involved. The thing had not been after Lysimachus. It had been after something else. I sensed incredible menace and purpose. I shuddered.

The officer beside me stood up. "What did this may still be about," he said. "Search the garden. Search the house. Find it! Kill it!"

Men hurried about, frightened. Torches were lit. I stood up, beside the body. I did not hasten to join the search. They would not find the assailant. It would not longer be here.

"Shall we join the search, Sir?" asked one of the men who had come whit me.

"Yes," I said, wearily.

I, too, after a time, entered the house, making my way through the rooms. In one place, in a far room, I found an iron gate, of heavy bars, in my path. It had apparently, some time ago, been lowered from the ceiling. Apparently it could be dropped suddenly. It sealed off the room behind it. I smiled. Such a gate might have dropped between Belnar and myself, doubtless, at a moment's notice. It would have served to protect him from anything, from almost anything. In the light of a torch lifted behind me, I could see a coffer, apparently, from the lock thrown beside it, hastily opened. that for which I searched had probably been extracted from that coffer even before I had begun to climb the high bridges. He had then apparently taken his swift leave. That, as it had turned out, had been very fortunate for him. IN this fashion, he had not been on hand to welcome his dark guest. In this fashion, he had doubtless managed to save his life. Somewhere now, he was doubtless safe.

"What is that?" I asked the officer, pointing to a dark aperture at one side of the room.

"It is nothing," he said evasively.

It would be, of course, the opened trap though which Belnar had taken his leave, a passage leading down through the tower.

"Lift the torch higher," I said to my man nearby. I looked about the room, from the other side of the gate.

"The search is complete," said a guardsman, reporting to the officer. "We have made a thorough examination of the premises, both inside and outside. They are clear. There is no sign of a beast."

"There is at least one sign," I said.

"What?" asked the officer.

"Look," I said. I pointed to a defensive, opened iron lattice on one of the windows in the room behind the barred gate.

"It is opened, of course," said the officer, puzzled.

"Examine, as you can, at the distance, in the light, the latch clasps," I said.

"They appear to be broken," he said.

"They are broken," I said.

"The lattice seems to have been forced open," he said.

"From the outside," I said.

"Impossible," he said.

"Does it not seem so to you?" I asked.

"Yes," he whispered.

"Search out Belnar," I said. "He is in grave danger."

Men hurried away, those with them, by my leave, who had come with me. Again I was alone. I remained there, for a time, looking through the bars. I strained to test the air. Then, after a time, I detected it, a lingering, residual, faint odor. I was not unfamiliar with the odor. I had smelled such an odor before, and knew it well. I was bitter. I was not the first to have come to the compartments of Belnar. I myself would have had great difficulty locating him in Brundisium, but I, on the other hand, could not follow him softly, swiftly, silently, through numerous passages, with the tenacity of a sleen, with the menace of a larl, intent upon his tracks.

I shook the bars violently, in fury. I had no idea where Belnar might have gone. Then suddenly it seemed I felt chilled, grasping the bars.

I turned and sped from the room.