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are the bypaths of speculation which lead from the present day story of the

Grabritins into the mysterious past of their forbears.

As I stood talking with the girl I presently recollected that she still was bound,

and with a word of apology, I drew my knife and cut the rawhide thongs which

confined her wrists at her back.

She thanked me, and with such a sweet smile that I should have been amply

repaid by it for a much more arduous service.

"And now," I said, "let me accompany you to your home and see you safely again

under the protection of your friends."

"No," she said, with a hint of alarm in her voice; "you must not come with me--

Buckingham will kill you."

Buckingham. The name was famous in ancient English history. Its survival,

with many other illustrious names, is one of the strongest arguments in refutal of

Professor Cortoran's theory; yet it opens no new doors to the past, and, on the

whole, rather adds to than dissipates the mystery.

And who is Buckingham," I asked, "and why should he wish to kill me?"

He would think that you had stolen me," she replied, "and as he wishes me for

himself, he will kill any other whom he thinks desires me. He killed Wettin a few

days ago. My mother told me once that Wettin was my father. He was king. Now

Buckingham is king."

Here, evidently, were a people slightly superior to those of the Isle of Wight.

These must have at least the rudiments of civilized government since they

recognized one among them as ruler, with the title, king. Also, they retained the

word father. The girl's pronunciation, while far from identical with ours, was

much closer than the tortured dialect of the Eastenders of the Isle of Wight. The

longer I talked with her the more hopeful I became of finding here, among her

people, some records, or traditions, which might assist in clearing up the historic

enigma of the past two centuries. I asked her if we were far from the city of

London, but she did not know what I meant. When I tried to explain, describing

mighty buildings of stone and brick, broad avenues, parks, palaces, and

countless people, she but shook her head sadly.

"There is no such place near by," she said. "Only the Camp of the Lions has

places of stone where the beasts lair, but there are no people in the Camp of the

Lions. Who would dare go there!" And she shuddered.

The Camp of the Lions," I repeated. "And where is that, and what?"

The Lost Continent