led to the passage that terminated in the pits beneath the palace. That any knew of this panel outside my own household, I was doubtful. Yet the leader of the band did not hesitate a moment. He stepped directly to the panel, touched the concealed button, and as the door swung open he stood aside while his companions entered with me. Then he closed the panel behind him and followed us.
Down through the passageways to the pits we went. Along winding corridors that I myself had never explored. On and on until I felt confident that we were far beyond the confines of the palace grounds, and then the way led upward again toward the surface.
Presently the party halted before a blank wall. The leader rapped upon it with the hilt of his sword—three quick, sharp blows, a pause, then three more, another pause, and then two. A second later the wall swung in, and I was pushed within a brilliantly lighted chamber in which sat three richly trapped men.
One of them turned toward me with a sardonic smile upon his thin, cruel lips—it was Zat Arrras.
