Cushions close to us swirled about as though in the vortex of a whirlwind.
And unseen hands held my arms in a mighty clutch fast to my sides, another gripped my throat and I felt a needle-sharp poniard point pierce my shirt, touch the skin just over my heart! "Larry!" I cried, despairingly.

I twisted my head; saw that he too was caught in this grip of the invisible.

But his face was calm, even amused.
"Keep cool, Doc!" he said.

"Remember--she wants to learn the language!" Now from Yolara burst chime upon chime of mocking laughter.

She gave a command--the hands loosened, the poniard withdrew from my heart; suddenly as I had been caught I was free--and unpleasantly weak and shaky.
"Have you _that_ in Ireland, Larree!" cried the priestess--and once more trembled with laughter.
"A good play, Yolara." His voice was as calm as his face.