Then, when the tempest of hate had ended in seething Lara, how,
thrilled with victory, armed with the weapons of those they had slain,
they had lifted the Shadow, passed through the Portal, met and
slaughtered the fleeing remnants of Yolara's men--only to find the
tempest stilled here, too.

But of Marakinoff they had seen nothing! Had the Russian escaped, I
wondered, or was he lying out there among the dead?

But now the _ladala_ were calling upon Lakla to come with them, to
govern them.

"I don't want to, Larry darlin'," she told him. "I want to go out
with you to Ireland. But for a time--I think the Three would have us
remain and set that place in order."

The O'Keefe was bothered about something else than the government of
Muria.

"If they've killed off all the priests, who's to marry us, heart of
mine?" he worried. "None of those Siya and Siyana rites, no matter
what," he added hastily.

"Marry!" cried the handmaiden incredulously. "Marry us? Why, Larry
dear, we _are_ married!"

The O'Keefe's astonishment was complete; his jaw dropped; collapse
seemed imminent.