“If you strike hard with the point into the side of his windpipe he’ll die quite quickly and very certainly. There will be nothing to it which need distress you—glory in his unnatural blood—don’t go trying to get him through the heart, you have to be experienced to get that right. The ribs are liable to deflect the blade—amateurs always think it’s best through the heart but the side of the windpipe’s easiest. You won’t flinch, darling. And Ooldra’ll get you away safely before his followers discover even that he’s dead. Ooldra’s very clever. Don’t be afraid. Remember how much is at stake. Remember that when he is dead you will have rid the world of a monstrous brute. Nullified .the prophecy that you will bring disaster to the land by failing to keep it from under foreign yoke.”

I was darkened by determination. ---

I leaned forward, beside the window but unseeing.

The Dictatress leaned back, but her body was tense. Her short strong square-tipped fingers grasped at the pelt across her knees. Her jaw was not only square, it was taut. ^

Slowly the fact that Ooldra was not bent on the matter in hand became visible to both of us.

Ooldra’s silence had made no impression on us, she so rarely speaks, but it now came to us that her mind and body were not bent to desperation and brooding resolve as ours were.

Ooldra lay back in the corner of the jolting carriage, one thin white arm raised to finger languidly the tassel hanging from the grip above her, her chin sunk almost to her chest. “You are nearly asleep, Ooldra,” I remarked.

Ooldra’s eyes looked up, and that was all.

“We are passing the river now, my darling, look, look out there, there it is. A fine river, which my mother had diverted from its real course that it might water our city.”