Page:Weird Tales Volume 10 Number 1 (1927-07).djvu/112

I could not tolerate these caustic comments; I was almost in a rage when Fanon bade me keep my temper.

"You shall have no interview unless you let me say what I must say. You may leave this prison with a hand-clasp of affection for me instead of with the hatred that you bring."

"Proceed with your story," I said. He placed the tips of his fingers together, leaned back, and looked at me with an air of complete ease.

"I presume, Monsieur Dexter, that you have some imagination. We artists must have, or we could never become artists. Imagine, then, if you can, a shining stretch of desert wasteland. Picture the sand, the far distances, and reflections, and colors. Make some blue mountains rising into the sky a long way off. Imagine that you saw two Roman soldiers walking across the wasteland. They were lightly armored and wore helmets. They were a legion's finest. You can imagine those things, can you?"

"Easily," I said, looking into his eyes for some brightness or dilation that would reveal his evident lunacy.

"Then I shall proceed to tell you the story of the two soldiers. One was the soldier Quintian, and the other the soldier Severus. And devoted friends they were. They would have died for each other. They had obtained leave from their company in order to make a four-day trip into the mountains in search of adventure. The blue mountains you created in the distance were not so very far from them when their first day's march was over. The morning of the second day found them high in the hills, scanning the gorges, peering into dark holes, and looking everywhere for anything of interest.

"At length they came to the mouth of a cave. When they went inside, they looked behind them and saw the shining stretches of the desert framed by the mouth of the cave. In one corner of the cavern, lighted by the rays of the sun, was a little projecting ledge or table, upon which rested the bust of a golden goddess. Down on the ground was a small treasure chest, and near each end some stacks of gold bars.

"With a sharp cry Severus dropped on his knees before the chest and lifted the lid. Quintian remained standing behind him. They saw, gleaming with the colors of Paradise, a thousand precious stones—jewels that would make them rich beyond the dream of mortals. The sticks of gold were nothing beside the gems. Severus feasted his eyes and scooped up a handful.

"Now Severus could not have known what went on in the mind of Quintian nor what he did. But I can easily imagine that. Quintian stood looking down at what was before him. Slowly his face hardened. His right hand went to his shortsword. His left hand snatched the unbuckled helmet from the head of Severus. Then in a flash the butt of the sword descended upon the bared head. Severus fell limp and unconscious with the blood pouring from his scalp. Then what did Quintian do? Oh, yes. He kicked the body of Severus to one side and stooped to examine the chest. He filled it with the gold bars and strained to lift it to his shoulder. It was almost too much for one man to carry, but he carried it anyway. A last satisfied look at the motionless Severus, and Quintian left the cave.

"Severus lay for a day and a half. When he came to his senses, he slowly turned over on his side and tried to sit up. He succeeded feebly. His hand went to his head, which seemed bursting with pain. He crawled to the mouth of the cave and looked out. Nothing was to be seen of Quintian. And Severus then re-