"Do what?" asked Stark.
She stared up at him. "Run away," she urged him. "Run away now! You'll die in the swamps, but that's better than being one of the Lost Ones!" She shook her thin arms at him. "Run away!"
IV
The street was empty. Nothing showed, nothing stirred anywhere. Stark leaned over and pulled the girl to her feet, drawing her in under the shelter of the thatched eaves.
"Now then," he said. "Suppose you stop crying and tell me what this is all about."
Presently, between gulps and hiccoughs, he got the story out of her.
"I am Zareth," she said. "Malthor's daughter. He's afraid of you, because of what you did to him on the ship, so he ordered me to watch for you in the square, when you would come out of the tavern. Then I was to follow you, and...."
She broke off, and Stark patted her shoulder. "Go on."
But a new thought had occurred to her. "If I do, will you promise not to beat me, or...." She looked at his gun and shivered.