"Yes," said Hendow. "I caught a thief, to whose lair I was led by Borko. He spoke quickly, after only his legs were broken. Tupita stole Doreen, duping her into leaving the house, she thinking she was still first girl, and intended to sell her, using her price to secure tarn passage from Brundisium in the guise of a free woman. she is, thus, a runaway slave. Moreover, I now put sword claim upon them both. Dispute it with me, if you will. I further learned from the thief they were both sold in Samnium. I spared his life, as he was cooperative. He is now doubtless, with his fellows, stealing other women. It was in Samnium I again picked up the trail. Borko and I have followed it for weeks. We lost it many times, but, each time, managed to find it again. Most recently we found it on the Vitkel Aria, south of Venna. Thus, you see, had it not been for Tupita, for her running away, for her betrayal of a sister in bondage, for her willingness to assume the habiliments of a free woman, in itself a great crime, this slave would not have been in Argentum, to lure you. if one is covered with guilt here, surely it is Tupita. Accordingly, I now give you my permission to strike her."

"No!" cried Mirus.

"Perhaps both should have their necks to the sword," said Hendow.

"No!" cried Mirus. He put himself between Hendow and Tupita. "Run!" he said to Tupita. "Run!"

"Remain on your knees, slave," said Hendow, in a terrible voice. "Before you could run two steps I would put Borko on you."

Tupita remained where she was.

"Why did you feel Hendow?" cried Mirus to Tupita.

"You were no longer there!" she wept. "You had been sent away. You were gone! I was consumed by hatred for Doreen, because of whom Hendow dismissed you. I decided to sell her, and show you all, escaping from Brundisium."

"But you did not escape, did you?" asked Hendow.

"No, Master!" she wept.

"You are now obviously a slave, collared, half naked, kneeling in the grass, fearing for your life!"

"Yes, Master," she said.

"Even had you made your way from Brundisium, where would you have gone?" he asked. "In what city or village would you expect your antecedents not to be inquired into? Where would you get your collar off? Would you still not wear a brand?"

She sobbed.

"Is there escape for such as you?" he asked.

"No, Master," she wept. "There is no escape for such as I."

"Why would you have done such a thing?" asked Mirus, not taking his eyes off Hendow. I did not think Mirus could long remain on his feet.

"Do you not understand?" she wept. "I did it because of you!"

"Absurd," said Mirus.

"I did not want to be without you," she wept.

"Little fool," he said.

"Too, I was jealous of Doreen. O thought you cared for her!"

"Certainly I found of her of interest," said Mirus, "as I have many slaves, but she, though, perhaps more beautiful than most, was never more to me, really, and I know that now, and have for a long time, than another wench whom I might, from time to time, for an Ahn or so, to the tune of my whip, if I pleased, put to my pleasure in an alcove."

"Oh, Master!" she breathed.

"But what are such things to you?" he asked.

"Do you not understand, Master?" she sobbed. "Though you scarcely know I exist, though you may despise or hate me, though you might scorn me or laugh at me, I am your love slave!"

He seemed startled.

"Yes," she cried. "I am you love slave! I have known this from the first time you put me to your feet! If you weighted and wrapped me with a thousand chains and a thousand locks they could not hold me more helplessly than the love I bear you! Alas, I have confessed! Kill me now, if you will!" she put down her head, sobbing.

"If you will not put her to the sword," said Hendow, "it seems, then, I must do so."

"No!" cried Mirus.

"Do you think, in your condition, you can adequately defend her?" asked Hendow. "I will defend her to the death!" cried Mirus.

"Do you think she is a free woman?" asked Hendow. "She is only a slave." "She is worth more to me than ten thousand free women!" cried Mirus. "A slave slut?" asked Hendow, scornfully. "A woman who may be purchased from a slave block?"

"Yes!" cried Mirus.

"Stand aside," said Hendow.

"Have pity on her!" cried Mirus. He could barely hold the sword. I feared he might collapse at any moment.

"Show mercy, Master!" I begged, Hendow.

"You are losing blood, old friend," said Hendow. "I do not think you will long be able to stand. Perhaps then, while you have the strength, you will wish to attack."

"By the love you bear me," said Mirus, weakly, "do not kill her." "You would kill this slave, would you not?" inquired Hendow.

"Yes," said Mirus.

"But you do not wish Tupita to die?" he asked.

"No," said Mirus.

"Perhaps then," said Hendow, smiling, "we might negotiate."

Mirus looked at him, unsteadily, wildly.

"It is too late!" wept Tupita. "Look!"

We looked up, to see, encircling us now, some yards away, men. There were five of them. With them, too, were the beasts.

Borko growled, menacingly.

"There is a sleen," said the bearded man, he who was the leader of the men who had come to pick us up. "It is unfortunate we do not have spears with us." The small fellow, he who had been dealing with the leader, hung back. His two cohorts were somewhat in advance of him. Both were rough, grim-looking men, armed with blades. I thought them, though, perhaps less to be feared than the leader and the man with him. He had left, I recalled, with two. Two of the beasts came forward. They snarled, as Borko snarled. I realized, suddenly, they did not fear even a thing as terrible as a sleen. Armed only with their own teeth and jaws they regarded themselves as superior to it.

"What are those things," asked Hendow.

"Where is Licinius?" asked the bearded man.

"They are certainly big fellows," said Hendow. "I, too, would not mind having a spear."

"Your sword is bloody," said the bearded man.

"Perhaps then I met Licinius," said Hendow.

"You should have fled," said Mirus.

"No," said Hendow.

"Beware of him," said the bearded man. "I think he may be skilled." "Come closer," said Hendow. "Examine the blood on the blade. Perhaps you will recognize it."

Borko crouched low, his front shoulders a bit higher than his head. He growled. "I free you, Borko, old friend," said Hendow. "Go. Return to the wild. Go. You are free!"

But the beast remained where it was, beside its master.

"As you will," said Hendow. "The choice is yours, my friend."

"We are lost," said Mirus. "I cannot help you."

"Stand near me, behind me," said Hendow.

But Mirus sank to one knee, where he was. I did not understand how it was that he could remain even so. He must have been a man of incredible strength. "You are surely ugly fellows," said Hendow to the two beasts. They were coming forward very warily. "Ho, lads," called Hendow. "Do not send your pet urts before you. Come forth boldly yourselves. Show that you are men!"

"Do not respond to his taunts!" said the bearded man. "The blood of Licinius warms you to caution!"

"Clever lads!" laughed Hendow.

"Watch out for the sleen!" cried the small fellow to the beasts. "They are dangerous!"

The lips of one of the beasts, it very near now, only some fifteen feet away, drew back, about its fangs. It seemed an expression, oddly enough, of amusement. Then I recollected these things were rational.

"Run, Master! I said. "Run!"

But Hendow did not move. His whole body seemed as alert, as alive, as ready and as vital as that of Borko. He would not, of course, leave Mirus. Too, of course, he could not outrun the beasts. I had seen them move. I sobbed.

"Beware the beasts, Master," I said. "They are rational. They can think. They can speak!"