As we entered deeper into what had once been the city, theevidences of man's past occupancy became more frequent. Fora mile from the arch there was only a riot of weeds andundergrowth and trees covering small mounds and littlehillocks that, I was sure, were formed of the ruins ofstately buildings of the dead past.

But presently we came upon a district where shattered wallsstill raised their crumbling tops in sad silence above thegrass-grown sepulchers of their fallen fellows. Softenedand mellowed by ancient ivy stood these sentinels of sorrow,their scarred faces still revealing the rents and gashes ofshrapnel and of bomb.

Contrary to our expectations, we found little indicationthat lions in any great numbers laired in this part ofancient London. Well-worn pathways, molded by padded paws,led through the cavernous windows or doorways of a few ofthe ruins we passed, and once we saw the savage face of agreat, black-maned lion scowling down upon us from ashattered stone balcony.

We followed down the bank of the Thames after we came uponit. I was anxious to look with my own eyes upon the famousbridge, and I guessed, too, that the river would lead meinto the part of London where stood Westminster Abbey andthe Tower.

Realizing that the section through which we had been passingwas doubtless outlying, and therefore not so built up withlarge structures as the more centrally located part of theold town, I felt sure that farther down the river I shouldfind the ruins larger. The bridge would be there in part,at least, and so would remain the walls of many of the greatedifices of the past. There would be no such complete ruinof large structures as I had seen among the smallerbuildings.

But when I had come to that part of the city which I judgedto have contained the relics I sought I found havoc that hadbeen wrought there even greater than elsewhere.

At one point upon the bosom of the Thames there rises a fewfeet above the water a single, disintegrating mound ofmasonry. Opposite it, upon either bank of the river, aretumbled piles of ruins overgrown with vegetation.

These, I am forced to believe, are all that remain of LondonBridge, for nowhere else along the river is there any otherslightest sign of pier or abutment.

Rounding the base of a large pile of grass-covered debris,we came suddenly upon the best preserved ruin we had yetdiscovered. The entire lower story and part of the secondstory of what must once have been a splendid public buildingrose from a great knoll of shrubbery and trees, while ivy,thick and luxuriant, clambered upward to the summit of thebroken walls.

In many places the gray stone was still exposed, itssmoothly chiseled face pitted with the scars of battle. Themassive portal yawned, somber and sorrowful, before us,giving a glimpse of marble halls within.

The temptation to enter was too great. I wished to explorethe interior of this one remaining monument of civilizationnow dead beyond recall. Through this same portal, withinthese very marble halls, had Gray and Chamberlin andKitchener and Shaw, perhaps, come and gone with the othergreat ones of the past.

I took Victory's hand in mine.

"Come!" I said. "I do not know the name by which this greatpile was known, nor the purposes it fulfilled. It may havebeen the palace of your sires, Victory. From some greatthrone within, your forebears may have directed thedestinies of half the world. Come!"

I must confess to a feeling of awe as we entered the rotundaof the great building. Pieces of massive furniture ofanother day still stood where man had placed them centuriesago. They were littered with dust and broken stone andplaster, but, otherwise, so perfect was their preservation Icould hardly believe that two centuries had rolled by sincehuman eyes were last set upon them.

Through one great room after another we wandered, hand inhand, while Victory asked many questions and for the firsttime I began to realize something of the magnificence andpower of the race from whose loins she had sprung.

Splendid tapestries, now mildewed and rotting, hung upon thewalls. There were mural paintings, too, depicting greathistoric events of the past. For the first time Victory sawthe likeness of a horse, and she was much affected by a hugeoil which depicted some ancient cavalry charge against abattery of field guns.

In other pictures there were steamships, battleships,submarines, and quaint looking railway trains--all small andantiquated in appearance to me, but wonderful to Victory.She told me that she would like to remain for the rest ofher life where she could look at those pictures daily.

From room to room we passed until presently we emerged intoa mighty chamber, dark and gloomy, for its high and narrowwindows were choked and clogged by ivy. Along one paneledwall we groped, our eyes slowly becoming accustomed to thedarkness. A rank and pungent odor pervaded the atmosphere.

We had made our way about half the distance across one endof the great apartment when a low growl from the far endbrought us to a startled halt.

Straining my eyes through the gloom, I made out a raiseddais at the extreme opposite end of the hall. Upon the daisstood two great chairs, highbacked and with great arms.

The throne of England! But what were those strange formsabout it?

Victory gave my hand a quick, excited little squeeze.

"The lions!" she whispered.

Yes, lions indeed! Sprawled about the dais were a dozenhuge forms, while upon the seat of one of the thrones asmall cub lay curled in slumber.

As we stood there for a moment, spellbound by the sight ofthose fearsome creatures occupying the very thrones of thesovereigns of England, the low growl was repeated, and agreat male rose slowly to his feet.

His devilish eyes bored straight through the semi-darknesstoward us. He had discovered the interloper. What righthad man within this palace of the beasts? Again he openedhis giant jaws, and this time there rumbled forth a warningroar.

Instantly eight or ten of the other beasts leaped to theirfeet. Already the great fellow who had spied us wasadvancing slowly in our direction. I held my rifle ready,but how futile it appeared in the face of this savage horde.

The foremost beast broke into a slow trot, and at his heelscame the others. All were roaring now, and the din of theirgreat voices reverberating through the halls and corridorsof the palace formed the most frightful chorus of thunderoussavagery imaginable to the mind of man.

And then the leader charged, and upon the hideouspandemonium broke the sharp crack of my rifle, once, twice,thrice. Three lions rolled, struggling and biting, to thefloor. Victory seized my arm, with a quick, "This way!Here is a door," and a moment later we were in a tinyantechamber at the foot of a narrow stone staircase.

Up this we backed, Victory just behind me, as the first ofthe remaining lions leaped from the throne room and sprangfor the stairs. Again I fired, but others of the ferociousbeasts leaped over their fallen fellows and pursued us.

The stairs were very narrow--that was all that saved us--foras I backed slowly upward, but a single lion could attack meat a time, and the carcasses of those I slew impeded therushes of the others.

At last we reached the top. There was a long corridor fromwhich opened many doorways. One, directly behind us, wastight closed. If we could open it and pass into the chamberbehind we might find a respite from attack.

The remaining lions were roaring horribly. I saw onesneaking very slowly up the stairs toward us.

"Try that door," I called to Victory. "See if it willopen."

She ran up to it and pushed.

"Turn the knob!" I cried, seeing that she did not know howto open a door, but neither did she know what I meant byknob.

I put a bullet in the spine of the approaching lion andleaped to Victory's side. The door resisted my firstefforts to swing it inward. Rusted hinges and swollen woodheld it tightly closed. But at last it gave, and just asanother lion mounted to the top of the stairway it swung in,and I pushed Victory across the threshold.

Then I turned to meet the renewed attack of the savage foe.One lion fell in his tracks, another stumbled to my veryfeet, and then I leaped within and slammed the portal to.

A quick glance showed me that this was the only door to thesmall apartment in which we had found sanctuary, and, with asigh of relief, I leaned for a moment against the panels ofthe stout barrier that separated us from the ramping demonswithout.

Across the room, between two windows, stood a flat-toppeddesk. A little pile of white and brown lay upon it close tothe opposite edge. After a moment of rest I crossed theroom to investigate. The white was the bleached humanbones--the skull, collar bones, arms, and a few of the upperribs of a man. The brown was the dust of a decayed militarycap and blouse. In a chair before the desk were otherbones, while more still strewed the floor beneath the deskand about the chair. A man had died sitting there with hisface buried in his arms--two hundred years ago.

Beneath the desk were a pair of spurred military boots,green and rotten with decay. In them were the leg bones ofa man. Among the tiny bones of the hands was an ancientfountain pen, as good, apparently, as the day it was made,and a metal covered memoranda book, closed over the bones ofan index finger.

It was a gruesome sight--a pitiful sight--this loneinhabitant of mighty London.

I picked up the metal covered memoranda book. Its pageswere rotten and stuck together. Only here and there was asentence or a part of a sentence legible. The first that Icould read was near the middle of the little volume:

"His majesty left for Tunbridge Wells today, he . . . jestywas stricken . . . terday. God give she does not die . . .am military governor of Lon . . ."

And farther on:

"It is awful . . . hundred deaths today . . . worse than thebombardm . . ."

Nearer the end I picked out the following:

"I promised his maj . . . e will find me here when he ret .. . alone."

The most legible passage was on the next page:

"Thank God we drove them out. There is not a single . . .man on British soil today; but at what awful cost. I triedto persuade Sir Phillip to urge the people to remain. Butthey are mad with fear of the Death, and rage at ourenemies. He tells me that the coast cities are packed . . .waiting to be taken across. What will become of England,with none left to rebuild her shattered cities!"

And the last entry:

". . . alone. Only the wild beasts . . . A lion is roaringnow beneath the palace windows. I think the people fearedthe beasts even more than they did the Death. But they aregone, all gone, and to what? How much better conditionswill they find on the continent? All gone--only I remain. Ipromised his majesty, and when he returns he will find thatI was true to my trust, for I shall be awaiting him. Godsave the King!"

That was all. This brave and forever nameless officer diednobly at his post--true to his country and his king. It wasthe Death, no doubt, that took him.

Some of the entries had been dated. From the few legibleletters and figures which remained I judge the end came sometime in August, 1937, but of that I am not at all certain.

The diary has cleared up at least one mystery that hadpuzzled me not a little, and now I am surprised that I hadnot guessed its solution myself--the presence of African andAsiatic beasts in England.

Acclimated by years of confinement in the zoologicalgardens, they were fitted to resume in England the wildexistence for which nature had intended them, and once free,had evidently bred prolifically, in marked contrast to thecaptive exotics of twentieth century Pan-America, which hadgradually become fewer until extinction occurred some timeduring the twenty-first century.

The palace, if such it was, lay not far from the banks ofthe Thames. The room in which we were imprisoned overlookedthe river, and I determined to attempt to escape in thisdirection.

To descend through the palace was out of the question, butoutside we could discover no lions. The stems of the ivywhich clambered upward past the window of the room were aslarge around as my arm. I knew that they would support ourweight, and as we could gain nothing by remaining longer inthe palace, I decided to descend by way of the ivy andfollow along down the river in the direction of the launch.

Naturally I was much handicapped by the presence of thegirl. But I could not abandon her, though I had no ideawhat I should do with her after rejoining my companions.That she would prove a burden and an embarrassment I wascertain, but she had made it equally plain to me that shewould never return to her people to mate with Buckingham.

I owed my life to her, and, all other considerations aside,that was sufficient demand upon my gratitude and my honor tonecessitate my suffering every inconvenience in her service.Too, she was queen of England. But, by far the most potentargument in her favor, she was a woman in distress--and ayoung and very beautiful one.

And so, though I wished a thousand times that she was backin her camp, I never let her guess it, but did all that laywithin my power to serve and protect her. I thank God nowthat I did so.

With the lions still padding back and forth beyond theclosed door, Victory and I crossed the room to one of thewindows. I had outlined my plan to her, and she had assuredme that she could descend the ivy without assistance. Infact, she smiled a trifle at my question.

Swinging myself outward, I began the descent, and had cometo within a few feet of the ground, being just opposite anarrow window, when I was startled by a savage growl almostin my ear, and then a great taloned paw darted from theaperture to seize me, and I saw the snarling face of a lionwithin the embrasure.

Releasing my hold upon the ivy, I dropped the re-mainingdistance to the ground, saved from laceration only becausethe lion's paw struck the thick stem of ivy.

The creature was making a frightful racket now, leaping backand forth from the floor at the broad window ledge, tearingat the masonry with his claws in vain attempts to reach me.But the opening was too narrow, and the masonry too solid.

Victory had commenced the descent, but I called to her tostop just above the window, and, as the lion reappeared,growling and snarling, I put a .33 bullet in his face, andat the same moment Victory slipped quickly past him,dropping into my upraised arms that were awaiting her.

The roaring of the beasts that had discovered us, togetherwith the report of my rifle, had set the balance of thefierce inmates of the palace into the most frightful uproarI have ever heard.

I feared that it would not be long before intelligence orinstinct would draw them from the interiors and set themupon our trail, the river. Nor had we much more thanreached it when a lion bounded around the corner of theedifice we had just quitted and stood looking about asthough in search of us.

Following, came others, while Victory and I crouched inhiding behind a clump of bushes close to the bank of theriver. The beasts sniffed about the ground for a while, butthey did not chance to go near the spot where we had stoodbeneath the window that had given us escape.

Presently a black-maned male raised his head, and, withcocked ears and glaring eyes, gazed straight at the bushbehind which we lay. I could have sworn that he haddiscovered us, and when he took a few short and statelysteps in our direction I raised my rifle and covered him.But, after a long, tense moment he looked away, and turnedto glare in another direction.

I breathed a sigh of relief, and so did Victory. I couldfeel her body quiver as she lay pressed close to me, ourcheeks almost touching as we both peered through the samesmall opening in the foliage.

I turned to give her a reassuring smile as the lionindicated that he had not seen us, and as I did so she, too,turned her face toward mine, for the same purpose,doubtless. Anyway, as our heads turned simultaneously, ourlips brushed together. A startled expression came intoVictory's eyes as she drew back in evident confusion.

As for me, the strangest sensation that I have everexperienced claimed me for an instant. A peculiar, tinglingthrill ran through my veins, and my head swam. I could notaccount for it.

Naturally, being a naval officer and consequently in thebest society of the federation, I have seen much of women.With others, I have laughed at the assertions of the savantsthat modern man is a cold and passionless creation incomparison with the males of former ages--in a word, thatlove, as the one grand passion, had ceased to exist.

I do not know, now, but that they were more nearly rightthan we have guessed, at least in so far as modern civilizedwoman is concerned. I have kissed many women--young andbeautiful and middle aged and old, and many that I had nobusiness kissing--but never before had I experienced thatremarkable and altogether delightful thrill that followedthe accidental brushing of my lips against the lips ofVictory.

The occurrence interested me, and I was tempted toexperiment further. But when I would have essayed itanother new and entirely unaccountable force restrained me.For the first time in my life I felt embarrassment in thepresence of a woman.

What further might have developed I cannot say, for at thatmoment a perfect she-devil of a lioness, with keener eyesthan her lord and master, discovered us. She came trottingtoward our place of concealment, growling and baring heryellow fangs.

I waited for an instant, hoping that I might be mistaken,and that she would turn off in some other direction. Butno--she increased her trot to a gallop, and then I fired ather, but the bullet, though it struck her full in thebreast, didn't stop her.

Screaming with pain and rage, the creature fairly flewtoward us. Behind her came other lions. Our case lookedhopeless. We were upon the brink of the river. Thereseemed no avenue of escape, and I knew that even my modernautomatic rifle was inadequate in the face of so many ofthese fierce beasts.

To remain where we were would have been suicidal. We wereboth standing now, Victory keeping her place bravely at myside, when I reached the only decision open to me.

Seizing the girl's hand, I turned, just as the lionesscrashed into the opposite side of the bushes, and, draggingVictory after me, leaped over the edge of the bank into theriver.

I did not know that lions are not fond of water, nor did Iknow if Victory could swim, but death, immediate andterrible, stared us in the face if we remained, and so Itook the chance.

At this point the current ran close to the shore, so that wewere immediately in deep water, and, to my intensesatisfaction, Victory struck out with a strong, overhandstroke and set all my fears on her account at rest.

But my relief was short-lived. That lioness, as I have saidbefore, was a veritable devil. She stood for a momentglaring at us, then like a shot she sprang into the riverand swam swiftly after us.

Victory was a length ahead of me.

"Swim for the other shore!" I called to her.

I was much impeded by my rifle, having to swim with one handwhile I clung to my precious weapon with the other. Thegirl had seen the lioness take to the water, and she hadalso seen that I was swimming much more slowly than she, andwhat did she do? She started to drop back to my side.

"Go on!" I cried. "Make for the other shore, and thenfollow down until you find my friends. Tell them that Isent you, and with orders that they are to protect you. Goon! Go on!"

But she only waited until we were again swimming side byside, and I saw that she had drawn her long knife, and washolding it between her teeth.

"Do as I tell you!" I said to her sharply, but she shook herhead.

The lioness was overhauling us rapidly. She was swimmingsilently, her chin just touching the water, but blood wasstreaming from between her lips. It was evident that herlungs were pierced.

She was almost upon me. I saw that in a moment she wouldtake me under her forepaws, or seize me in those great jaws.I felt that my time had come, but I meant to die fighting.And so I turned, and, treading water, raised my rifle abovemy head and awaited her.

Victory, animated by a bravery no less ferocious than thatof the dumb beast assailing us, swam straight for me. Itall happened so swiftly that I cannot recall the details ofthe kaleidoscopic action which ensued. I knew that I rosehigh out of the water, and, with clubbed rifle, dealt theanimal a terrific blow upon the skull, that I saw Victory,her long blade flashing in her hand, close, striking, uponthe beast, that a great paw fell upon her shoulder, and thatI was swept beneath the surface of the water like a strawbefore the prow of a freighter.

Still clinging to my rifle, I rose again, to see the lionessstruggling in her death throes but an arm's length from me.Scarcely had I risen than the beast turned upon her side,struggled frantically for an instant, and then sank.