A. Merritt's Fantasy Magazine, February 1950 — page 86: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

36 A. MERRITT’S FANTASY cut the cords, when Darrel stopped him with a grip that probably wasn’t any too gentle. Wilbur straightened up and looked savagely at Darrell, and a second time at me. ~“*What treason is this?’ he said. “You can see the sort of treason for yourself, Wilbur,” said Darrell. “Here’s the pair of people you wanted to see die; you wanted to enjoy their agony. But you won't. They’re both going free.” “Dost know, foolish fellow,” said Wil- bur, drawing himself up higher than be- fore, and talking grandly down to Darrell, “dost know that the thing thou speakest ‘may never be while there are men in the Smoking Land?” “Dost thou know,” said Darrell, in savage mockery, “that thou wilt lie flat on they back in this room, gagged and tied like thy fine son, here, while the three of us walk freely out of the mountain, and sail away in one of the airships to our own country? Smoky, throw a-gun on this old rat, will you?” The touch of Westernism made every- thing seem easy and natural and simple, to me. I covered Wilbur with my gun. “Tt was all lying—all lying!’’ he snarled, “when thou didst speak of thy devotion to the science which we nurse here—all the while’thou yearned for thine own people!” Yes,” said Darrell. “Every day I yearned for them. You and your gang of cutthroats, what could you mean to a decent man? Nothing but a chance to turn murder loose on the world. But you knew or guessed before this evening what I felt. You sent this whelp of yours to hunt me, and except for chance, he would have put a knife through my heart!”’ “Alas, that he failed!’ moaned Wilbur, son of John. “Come up closer, Smoky,” said Dar- rell, “That's right. Stick the gun into his ribs, and if he stirs, let him have a pair of bullets through him. Why I don’t kill you out of hand, I don’t know,” he went on. “It’s a part of the weakness of which you've accused all my people. The rea- son, you say, why the future would be benefited, if all of us were wiped off the face of the globe. But we won't be wiped off, Wilbur, son of John, and neither shall - we be slaves to the Smoking Land. And so, if you'll kindly excuse me, we'll leave you quietly here behind us.’ As he spoke, he secured the old man’s hands, and when Wilbur started to make answer, a balled-up handkerchief was jammed between his teeth, and cut his voice to a gurgling. We soon stretched him out, tied until he couldn’t wriggle, and then we looked at the bonds of Arthur. “What wouldst thou do?” said Sylvia, looking gravely at me. “We are taking you, Sylvia,” said I, “to a southern land—to our own people, and away from eternal winter, and the smoking mountain, and the murder and fire that runs riot in this land. Will you come ?”’ “Ah,” said she, “how may I go, when the goddess hath not spoken?” I took so much pleasure in listening to her gentle voice, mind you, that I hardly comprehended what she was say- ing, but then I made out the words of Darrell, as he answered: “You see, Sylvia, that we could not “have come here, we could not even have dared to think of taking you away, if the goddess had not expressly inspired us. Who are we to do such things and defy the wise men, except through her strength?” It was like the breaking of sunlight through clouds, to see the change in the girl's face. ‘‘Dost thou truly say so?” said, she, “Yes, we truly say so. How else can you imagine it yourself, Sylvia?” said Darrell. “My mind turns, and is darkened,” said Sylvia, ‘‘and yet there 1s something like a voice that speaketh within me, and saith that all may be well!” And I knew, then and. there, that her scruples were conquered. We did not linger. Darrel picked up a quantity of clothes and wraps. I took the rifle and we stepped out into the long corridor, and went along its glimmering dimness, and between its polished walls, until we came to the first turning, and then far behind us, we heard a great clamor of blows, and looked back. Through the faint twilight that filled the distant corridor, we could see armed men at the door of Darrell’s room, beating