"Stop it!" said the Arcturian. He seized the Sarkite's wrist and forced it back.

The Sarkite growled sullenly, "There are limits. I can take the Squire-killing. I'd like to kill a few myself, but standing by and watching a native do what he did is just about too much for me."

Samia said in an unnaturally high-pitched voice, "Native?" The Sarkite leaned forward, snatched viciously at Terens' cap. The Townman paled but did not move. He kept his gaze steadily upon the girl and his sandy hair moved slightly in the breeze.

Samia moved helplessly back along the car seat as far as she could and then, with a quick movement, she covered her face with both hands, her skin turning white under the pressure of her fingers.

The Sarkite said, "What are we going to do with her?"

"Nothing."

"She saw us; She'll have the whole planet after us before we've gone a mile."

"Are you going to kill the Lady of Fife?" asked the Arcturian sarcastically.

"Well, no. But we can wreck her car. By the time she gets to a radio-phone, we'll be all right."

"Not necessary." The Arcturian leaned into the car. "My Lady, I have only a moment. Can you hear me?"

She did not move.

The Arcturian said, "You had better hear me. I am sorry I interrupted you at a tender moment but luckily I have put that moment to use. I acted quickly and was able to record the scene by tri-camera. This is no bluff. I will transmit the negative to a safe place minutes after I leave you and thereafter any interference on your part will force me to be rather nasty. I'm sure you understand me."

He turned away. "She won't say anything about this. Not a thing. Come along with me, Townman."

Terens followed. He could not look back at the white, pinched face in the car.

Whatever might now follow, he had accomplished a miracle. For one moment he had kissed the proudest Lady on Sark, had felt the fleeting touch of her soft, fragrant lips.