Moon of Skulls
kind — oh Steephen, I cannot bear it!”
    I smiled. “Lean closer, Zuleika, and I will tell you how I am going to fool this Kathulos.”
    She glanced apprehensively at the door.
    “You must speak low. I will lie in your arms and while you pretend to caress me, whisper your words to me.”
    She glided into my embrace, and there on the dragon-worked couch in that house of horror I first knew the glory of Zuleika’s slender form nestling in my arms — of Zuleika’s soft cheek pressing my breast. The fragrance of her was in my nostrils, her hair in my eyes, and my senses reeled; then with my lips hidden by her silky hair I whispered, swiftly:
    “I am going first to warn Sir Haldred Frenton — then to find John Gordon and tell him of this den. I will lead the police here and you must watch closely and be ready to hide from Him — until we can break through and kill or capture him. Then you will be free.”
    “But you!” she gasped, paling. “You must have the elixir, and only he —”
    “I have a way of outdoing him, child,” I answered.
    She went pitifully white and her woman’s intuition sprang at the right conclusion.
    “You are going to kill yourself!”
    And much as it hurt me to see her emotion, I yet felt a torturing thrill that she should feel so on my account. Her arms tightened about my neck.
    “Don’t, Steephen!” she begged. “It is better to live, even —”
    “No, not at that price. Better to go out clean while I have the manhood left.”
    She stared at me wildly for an instant; then, pressing her red lips suddenly to mine, she sprang up and fled from the room. Strange, strange are the ways of love. Two stranded ships on the shores of life, we had drifted inevitably together, and though no word of love had passed between us, we knew each other’s heart — through grime and rags, and through accouterments of the slave, we knew each other’s heart and from the first loved as naturally and as purely as it was intended from the beginning of Time.
    The beginning of life now and the end for me, for as soon as I had completed my task, ere I felt again the torments of my curse, love and life and beauty and torture should be blotted out together in the stark finality of a pistol ball scattering my rotting brain. Better a clean death than —
    The door opened again and Yussef Ali entered.
    “The hour arrives for departure,” he said briefly. “Rise and follow.”
    I had no idea, of course, as to the time. No window opened from the room I occupied — I had seen no outer window whatever. The rooms were lighted by tapers in censers swinging from the ceiling. As I rose the slim young Moor slanted a sinister glance in my direction.
    “This lies between you and me,” he said sibilantly. “Servants of the same Master we — but this concerns ourselves alone. Keep your distance from Zuleika — the Master has promised her to me in the days of the empire.”
    My eyes narrowed to slits as I looked into the frowning, handsome face of the Oriental, and such hate surged up in me as I have seldom known. My fingers involuntarily opened and closed, and the Moor, marking the action, stepped back, hand in his girdle.
    “Not now — there is work for us both — later perhaps.” Then in a sudden cold gust of hatred, “Swine! Ape-man! When the Master is finished with you I shall quench my dagger in your heart!”
    I laughed grimly.
    “Make it soon, desert-snake, or I’ll crush your spine between my hands.”
    10. The Dark House
     
    “Against all man-made shackles and a man-made hell —
    Alone—at last—unaided—I rebel!”
—Mundy
     
    I followed Yussef Ali along the winding hallways, down the steps — Kathulos was not in the idol room — and along the tunnel, then through the rooms of the Temple of Dreams and out into the street, where the street lamps gleamed drearily through the fogs and a slight drizzle. Across the street stood an automobile, curtains closely drawn.
    “That is yours,” said

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