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"Afterward we can come back to Grabritin," she said, "and if Buckingham is not

dead and we can catch him away from his men and kill him, then I can return to

my people, and we can all live in peace and happiness."

She spoke of killing Buckingham with no greater concern than one might evince

in the contemplated destruction of a sheep; yet she was neither cruel nor

vindictive. In fact, Victory is a very sweet and womanly woman. But human life

is of small account beyond thirty--a legacy from the bloody days when thousands

of men perished in the trenches between the rising and the setting of a sun, when

they laid them lengthwise in these same trenches and sprinkled dirt over them,

when the Germans corded their corpses like wood and set fire to them, when

women and children and old men were butchered, and great passenger ships

were torpedoed without warning.

Thirty-six, finally assured that we did not intend slaying him, was as keen to

accompany us as was Victory.

The crossing to the continent was uneventful, its monotony being relieved,

however, by the childish delight of Victory and Thirty-six in the novel experience

of riding safely upon the bosom of the water, and of being so far from land.

With the possible exception of Snider, the little party appeared in the best of

spirits, laughing and joking, or interestedly discussing the possibilities which the

future held for us: what we should find upon the continent, and whether the

inhabitants would be civilized or barbarian peoples.

Victory asked me to explain the difference between the two, and when I had tried

to do so as clearly as possible, she broke into a gay little laugh.

"Oh," she cried, "then I am a barbarian!"

I could not but laugh, too, as I admitted that she was, indeed, a barbarian. She

was not offended, taking the matter as a huge joke. But some time thereafter she

sat in silence, apparently deep in thought. Finally she looked up at me, her

strong white teeth gleaming behind her smiling lips.

"Should you take that thing you call 'razor,'" she said, "and cut the hair from the

face of Thirty-six, and exchange garments with him, you would be the barbarian

and Thirty-six the civilized man. There is no other difference between you, except

your weapons. Clothe you in a wolfskin, give you a knife and a spear, and set

you down in the woods of Grabritin--of what service would your civilization be to

you?"

The Lost Continent