He watched us constantly, and after he had put the map away, he sat on a bench and stared at us. No one said anything.

I could see Ero Shan fidgetting, and I knew that the situation was getting under his skin just as it was under mine. I tried to think of something to say to start a general conversation and relieve the tension; so I told them about our experience with the merging of the two cloud envelopes, and asked them if the clouds had come down to the ground in Gavo.

Tovar said, "No." That was his contribution to the conversation.

Yonda said, "The clouds came very low."

Noola, who up to this point had not entered the conversation, said, "Shut up, you fool!" At that, the conversation languished and expired. Strangely enough, it was Noola who revived it. "Nothing human ever went up into the clouds," she said. "A wizard might, but nothing human."

Once again there was a long silence, while the servants brought food and placed it on the table. Tovar said, "Come and eat."

The food was not very good: mostly vegetables, a little fruit, and some very tough meat which I thought I recognized as zorat meat. T,he zorat is the Amtorian horse.

I enjoy a little conversation with my meals; so I tried again. "Who is this Morgas to whom you referred?" I asked.

They appeared a little surprised by the question.

Noola "Humphed!" and then elaborated upon this brilliant bit of repartee by adding: "As though you don't know!"

"I am sorry to reveal my ignorance," I said, "but I really haven't the slightest idea who Morgas is. You must remember that I have never before been to your country."

"Humph!" said Noola.

Tovar cleared his throat and looked apologetically at Noola. "Morgas is a wizard," he said. "He turns people into zaldars." The others nodded their heads. Now I knew that they were all crazy; but after dinner they served in large tumblers something very similar to cognac, and I partially revised my estimate of them; at least I held my verdict in abeyance for the time being.

As I sipped my brandy, I sauntered around the hall looking at the pictures on the walls. They seemed to be chiefly family portraits, most of them very poorly executed.

Noola was there, dour and sinister. So were the others, and there must have been fully a hundred that were probably of ancestors, for many of them were faded with age. I came upon one, though, that immediately arrested my attention: it was that of a very beautiful girl, and it was beautifully executed.

I could not restrain an exclamation of admiration.

"How lovely!" I said.

"That is our daughter, Vanaia," said Tovar; and at at least on Noola's part, for she had downed one entire tumblerful and started on the second.

"I am very sorry," I hastened to say. "I had no idea who she was, nor that she was dead."

"She is not dead," said Noola, between sobs. "Would you like to meet her?" Whatever wizards there might have been about the place must have been contained in that brandy. While it hadn't turned Noola into a zaldar, it had certainly wrought an amazing change in her: her tone was almost cordial.

I saw that they would like to have me meet Vanaia; so, not wishing to offend them, I said that I should be delighted. After all, I reflected, it was not going to be much of an ordeal to meet such a gorgeous creature.

"Come with us," said Noola; "we will take you to Vanaja's apartments."

She led the way out of the castle into the ballium, and we followed. Ero Shah, who was walking at my side, said, "Be careful, Carson! Remember Duare!" Then he poked me in the ribs and grinned.

"And you'd better keep your mind on Nalte," I counselled him.

"I shall try to," replied, "but you'll have to admit that if Vanaia is half as lovely as her portrait it will be difficult for one to keep one's mind on anything but Vanaia."

Noola led us to the rear of the castle, stopping at last in a far corner of the enclosure before a pen in which a small zaldar, about the size of a pig, was down on its knees gobbling a lavendar mash from a trough.

The zaldar didn't even glance at us, but went on gobbling.

"This is Vanaia," said Noola. "Vanaia, this is Carson of Venus and Ero Shan of Havatoo."

"She is very sad," said Noola, sobbing. "She is so sad that she refuses to talk."

"How distressing!" I exclaimed, recalling that it is always best to humor those poor unfortunates who 'are the victims of mental disorders. "I presume that this is the work of Morgas, the scoundrel."

"Yes," said Tovar; "Morgas did it. She refused to be his mate; so he stole her, turned her into a zaldar, and returned her to us."

Sadly we turned away and started back toward the castle. "Could you keep your mind on Nalte?" I asked Ero Shan.

Ero Shan ignored my question, and turned to Tovar. "Tell us something about this Morgas," he said.

"Certainly," replied our host. "He is a powerful vootogan, whose stronghold is farther up the valley. He is a man of ill repute and ill deeds. He has powers that are beyond those of human men: he is a wizard.