only a great weariness. And there was peace on the once tortured face.

"Helma," he whispered, "I go a little before! Soon you will come to
me--to me and the Yndling who will await you--Helma, _meine liebe!_"

Blood gushed from his mouth; he swayed, fell. And thus died Olaf
Huldricksson.

We looked down upon him; nor did Lakla, nor Larry, nor I try to hide
our tears. And as we stood the _Akka_ brought to us that other mighty
fighter, Rador; but in him there was life, and we attended to him
there as best we could.

Then Lakla spoke.

"We will bear him into the castle where we may give him greater care,"
she said. "For, lo! the hosts of Yolara have been beaten back; and on
the bridge comes Nak with tidings."

We looked over the parapet. It was even as she had said. Neither on
ledge nor bridge was there trace of living men of Muria--only heaps of
slain that lay everywhere--and thick against the cavern mouth still
danced the flashing atoms of those the green ray had destroyed.

"Over!" exclaimed Larry incredulously. "We live then--heart of
mine!"

"The Silent Ones recall their veils," she said, pointing to the dome.
Back through the slitted opening the radiance was streaming;
withdrawing from sea and island; marching back over the bridge with