Back into a great chair poor Lucia was forced, and bound with cruel cords until ,the smooth arms were purpled with the pressure. It was all done with intensely calm order liness. Not a word was spoken by the men, but many of the women raved with fury and hurled insults over the heads of the unmoved guards. The other captives—many of whom Watson had recognised—knew that they were spared the same fate as threatened Lucia only because to have destroyed them would have been injurious to the stability of the community. Scarcely had the seeat in which Lucia was bound been raised on two spears when the long line of the captives was marched from Feminter. What was their fate ?

Then another grim procession turned down the avenues of Feminter through the pleasant groves resonant with song and fragrant with the odour of flowers, past the marble temples of the gods gleaming through the rich green foliage of sacred trees. But no song of praise, no ptean of victory was raised to echo beneath the fretted roofs. Nothing was heard but the tramp of armed men, the metallic crash of armour, or the low whispered word of command.
