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Updated: May 8, 2025
Around her waist a girdle of satin revealed the tender frailty of her figure. She gave Watson a close scrutiny, and then addressed the Geos: "I want to put one question, Rhamda. The stranger seems to be a goodly young man. He has come from the Jarados. Tell me, is he truly of the chosen?" But a clear, derisive laugh from the opposite throne interrupted the answer.
The Geos took his hand. "It is proven!" he declared. Then, to the Rhamdas: "Is there any question, my brothers?" But no word came from the floor. Seemingly superstition had triumphed over all else. The men of learning turned none but reverent faces toward Watson. He forebore to glance at the Bar Senestro. Despite the triumph he was apprehensive of the princes's keen genius.
The words of Geos, "The Fact and the Substance," had been exactly synonymous with what had been said of Avec by Dr. Holcomb, "The proof of the occult." Was it indeed possible that these two great ones, from opposite poles, had actually torn away the veil of the shadow? And was this the place where he, Watson, must pose as a spirit, if he were to be accepted as genuine? The thought was a shock.
But the Rhamda Geos had now come to his side. "Do your best, my lord. I regret only that it must be to the death. But the Senestro has challenged the prophecy. Prove that you are not a false one! My heart is with you." It was a good word at a needed moment. Watson stepped over onto the circular Spot of Life. They were both barefooted. Evidently the Thomahlians fought in the old, classic manner.
The crimson guard fell in behind Watson, the black-gowned took their places ahead, and the Jan Lucar and the Geos walked on either side. They stepped out into the corridor. By the indicator of a vertical clock, Chick noted that it was nine. He did not know the day of the year other than from the Thomahlian calendar; but he knew that it was close to sunset.
He touched it with a finger. "If this little case and its contents get through the Blind Spot it will advance civilisation our civilisation about a thousand- fold. So remember: Whatever happens to me, be sure and remember this case! It must go through the Spot!" He said no more, but took his seat beside the Geos. The young men took the rear seats.
"That is the Jarados as I have seen him; a short, elderly, wise, BEARDED man." There was not a breath or a murmur in comment. All hung upon his words; there was not a sound in the room as he ceased speaking, only the throb of his own heart and the subtle pounding of caution in his veins. He had spoken. If only there might be a resemblance! The Geos stepped forward a pace. "It is well said.
And we must beware of the Bars." There was no thought of questioning him. Without waiting the Geos' command, the Jan Lucar began putting the craft about. Watson glanced at the sky; the great spectacle was gone; and he demanded of the soldier: "How can we get back? How do we find our way?"
When she caught Watson's eye she smiled; a smile free and unrestrained, out of an open, happy heart. She made a remark to one of her guards, who nodded a reply after the manner of a friend, rather than a courtier. Watson turned to the Geos, who stood somewhat to one side, and a little to the rear. "The Aradna?" "Yes. The queen of D'Hartia. The man on the other side is the Bar Senestro."
MAKE food. Watson thought best simply to answer the question: "As I remember it, Rhamda Geos, we had a sort of meat called beef the flesh of certain animals." The Rhamda was intensely interested. "Are they large? Some interpret the Jarados to that effect. Tell me, are they like this?" And he pulled a silver whistle from his pocket and, placing it to his lips, blew two short, shrill notes.
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