"A moment."

Shortly, I heard a chain fall and the door was opened. I beheld a large man—over six feet in height and of great girth. He had on a dark green and black dressing gown over an unfastened white shirt and trousers. A white fringe was all that remained of his hair, and his eyes were bright blue.

"Mr. Perry!" he greeted. "I cannot say how delighted I am to see you in good health!"

"It appears that I have you to thank for it, sir," I told him.

"And you are most heartily welcome. Come in, come in!"

I did that. Peters—at my side—gave a small salute, which Ellison returned, and departed.

"Pray be seated," the big man said. "Are you hungry?"

I thought back over the supper of marsh-hens which Legrand's slave Jupiter had fed me only a few hours ago.

"Thanks, but I've eaten," I told him.

"Something to drink, then?"

"Can't say as I'd have any objection to that," I answered.

He went off to a cabinet from which he returned with a squat decanter of ruby fluid and a pair of shot glasses. He filled the tiny things, raised one and said, "Your health." I nodded and watched as he took a small sip. I sniffed it. It smelled like wine. I took a sip. It seemed a Burgundy. I took the rest in a single swallow, wondering at the eccentricity which prompted the man to drink in this fashion. His eyes widened slightly, but he refilled my glass immediately.

"Good man, that Peters," I said. "He timed his intervention perfectly, moved strongly, efficiently. Got me away against strong opposition. I confess I still haven't the least idea why those men attacked me, though. Or why—"

"Yes?"

"There is someone aboard their ship—the Evening Star—someone with whom I have an intimate connection. I'd be grateful if you could tell me anything of their purposes. Or simply who they are." I drank my other tiny portion of wine in a quick swallow, and went on, "How did you know I was going to be where I was? And that I'd need rescuing?"