“Devastation!” stated Somat solemnly.  He waved a hand, to include all that lay within the ruined city.  “Not altogether because of the workers, although they were scarcely fit for ruling but because the former rulers and others of that kind, who liked to oppose their wills upon others, saw fit to start a fresh rebellion.  Conflict followed conflict; sometimes workers were in power, and sometimes aristocrats.  But the fighting ended not until”—­he drew a deep breath—­“until there were none left to fight!”

“Ye mean,” demanded Rolla incredulously, “that your people killed themselves off in this fashion?”

Aye,” sorrowfully.  “There were a few of us—­they called us ’the middle class’—­who urged equality.  We wanted a government in which all classes were represented fairly; what we called a democracy.  Once the experiment was started, but it failed.

“Saw ye the skeletons in the streets?” he went on.”  ’Twas a dreadful sight, those last few days.  I were but a lad, yet I remember it all too well.”  He paused, then broke out fiercely:  “I tell ye that I saw brother slay brother, father slay son, son slay mother, in those last days!

“Lucky am I that I fled, I and my parents!  They took me to a mountainous country, but even there the madness spread, and one day a soldier of the army killed my father and my mother.  He sought me, also, that he might slay me; but I hid from him beneath a heap of manure.  Aye,” he gritted savagely, “I owe my life to a pile of manure!

“These other eleven men all have like tales to tell.  Only one woman survived those awful days.  Young Sorplee is her son; his father was a soldier, whom she herself slew with her own hands.  Even she is now dead.

“Well,” he finished, after a long pause, “when the madness had spent itself, we who remained came from our hiding-places to find our world laid waste.  ’Tis now thirty years since Sorplee’s mother died, since we first looked upon these ruins, and we have made barely a beginning.  We have little heart for the work.  Of what use is it, with no women to start the race afresh?”

Rolla started despite herself.  Was this the reason why she, despite her savagery, had been made so welcome?

“Ye have not told me,” said she hurriedly, “why ye and the others all wear such curious garments when ye eat.”

Somat was taken off his guard.  He had been chuckling to himself at the woman’s childlike mind.  Now he had to look apologetic and not a little sheepish as he made reply: 

“The robes are a mere custom.  It were started a great many years ago, by the founders of a—­a—­” He tried to think of a simpler expression than “college fraternity.”  “A clan,” he decided.  “All of we men were members of that clan.”

“And,” pursued Rolla, “will ye give me the magic stone, that I may take the flowing blossoms back to my people, and release my loved one from the masters’ cruelty?”