Upon the thumb of the hand was an immense ring, set with a dull-blue stone.

Graven on the face of the jewel was the symbol of the rosy walls of the Moon Chamber that had opened to us their two portals.

But cut over the vine were seven circles, one about each of the flowers and two larger ones covering, intersecting them.
"This is the same," I said; "but these were not there"-- I indicated the circles.
The woman drew a deep breath and looked deep into Lugur's eyes.
"The sign of the Silent Ones!" he half whispered.
It was the woman who first recovered herself.
"The strangers are weary, Lugur," she said.

"When they are rested they shall show where the rocks opened." I sensed a subtle change in their attitude toward us; a new intentness; a doubt plainly tinged with apprehension.

What was it they feared?
Why had the symbol of the vine wrought the change?
And who or what were the Silent Ones?
Yolara's eyes turned to Olaf, hardened, and grew cold grey.
Subconsciously I had noticed that from the first the Norseman had been absorbed in his regard of the pair; had, indeed, never taken his gaze from them; had noticed, too, the priestess dart swift glances toward him.
He returned her scrutiny fearlessly, a touch of contempt in the clear eyes--like a child watching a snake which he did not dread, but whose danger be well knew.
Under that look Yolara stirred impatiently, sensing, I know, its meaning.
"Why do you look at me so ?" she cried.
An expression of bewilderment passed over Olaf's face.
"I do not understand," he said in English.
I caught a quickly repressed gleam in O'Keefe's eyes.