"See here, _mavourneen_!" Indignation thrilled in the Irishman's
voice. "I'm not going to be done up with baby-ribbons and laid away in
a cradle for safe-keeping while a fight is on; don't think it. Why
didn't you call me?"

"You needed rest!" There was indomitable determination in the
handmaiden's tones, the eternal maternal shining defiant from her
eyes. "You were tired and you hurt! You shouldn't have got up!"

"Needed the rest!" groaned Larry. "Look here, Lakla, what do you
think I am?"

"You're all I have," said that maiden firmly, "and I'm going to take
care of you, Larry--darlin'! Don't you ever think anything else."

"Well, pulse of my heart, considering my delicate health and general
fragility, would it hurt me, do you think, to be told what's going
on?" he asked.

"Not at all, Larry!" answered the handmaiden serenely. "Yolara went
through the Portal. She was very, _very_ angry--"

"She was all the devil's woman that she is!" rumbled Olaf.

"Rador met the messenger," went on the Golden Girl calmly. "The
_ladala_ are ready to rise when Lugur and Yolara lead their hosts
against us. They will strike at those left behind. And in the meantime
we shall have disposed my _Akka_ to meet Yolara's men. And on that
disposal we must all take counsel, you, Larry, and Rador, Olaf and