The latter nodded and Stanton walked across the terrace in the direction of the landing stage.
Zitlan, as he followed after the others, passed close to Dirk and, pausing for a moment, fixed his hateful eyes on him.
“You dog,” he whispered malignantly, 409 “remember what I tell you! The time will come when I will cast you to the carnaphlocti in the dark and icy caverns of sunless Tiganda. You will die,” he swore, “the death of a million agonies!”
For a moment Dirk felt an almost irresistible impulse to hurl himself on the Lodorian and slay him.
He managed to maintain his control, however, and only regarded Zitlan with disdain as the latter turned and went on his way.
In another moment the plane, containing Stanton and the Lodorians, was high up in the darkness.
Dirk glanced at the great clock that gleamed atop of the beacon-tower on the Metropole Landing Field.
The hour was close to twelve-thirty A. M.
A moment of silence on the terrace followed the departure of the plane that bore the Lodorians back to their craft.