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Updated: June 20, 2025
Geos paused as he made use of the ultra-significant phrase. And then, in a few rapid sentences, he ran over the synopsis of that affair, beginning with some philosophy and other details that Watson could only half understand, making frequent allusions to the Jarados and other writers of prophecy; then he made some mention of his own particular brand of spiritism and its stand on materialisation.
He strode straight up to the throne of the Bar; and once more he spoke from sheer impulse: "The Aradna has spoken true, O Senestro, or sinister, or whatever you may be called. I demand fair hearing! It is my due; for I have come from another world. I follow the Jarados!" If Watson had supposed that he had taken the Bar's measure, he was mistaken.
Let him qualify on the Day of the Prophet." "My lord, do you accept?" Watson had no idea what the "ordeal" might be, nor what might be the significance of the day. But he could not very well refuse. He spoke as lightly as he could. "Of course. I accept anything." Then, addressing the prince: "One word, O Senestro." "Speak up, Sir Phantom!" "Bar Senestro what have you done with the Jarados?"
I became convinced that not merely my own destiny, but a higher, a transcendental fate was at stake. "In the course of time I became certain of this. Meanwhile I mastered most of the secrets of this palace the wisdom of the ancient Jarados. Though a prisoner, I was the happiest of men which I still remain. The Bars kept close watch over me, constantly changing their guard.
Certainly Watson inwardly rejoiced to see Rhamda Geos incredulous, his keen face whitening like that of one who has just heard sacrilege uttered to see Geos rise in his place, grip the table tightly, and hear him exclaim: "The Jarados! Did you say the Jarados? He has come amongst us, and we have not known? You are perfectly sure of this?"
Watson wondered just who this Jarados might be; but for the moment he went back to the previous question. "This Rhamda Avec: you were about to tell me about him. Let me have as much as I can understand, sir." "Ah, yes! The great Rhamda Avec. Perhaps you may recall him when your mind clears a little more. My dear sir, he is, or was, the chief of the Rhamdas of all the Thomahlia."
As for the Jarados Watson could not make out who he had been; a prophet or teacher, seemingly, looming out of the past and reverenced from antiquity. The Blind Spot became a shade less sinister.
He declared that he had come from the occult Rhamdas, through the other side of the Spot, in search of the Jarados who had gone before. As to his blankness up to now, and his perplexity he was but a Junior; and the Spot had naturally benumbed his senses. Even now, he apologised, it was difficult to know and to recall everything clearly.
Only he showed that death, instead of being an ushering into a void, was merely a translation onto another plane of life, a higher plane and a more glorious one. In short, a thing to be desired and attained, not to be avoided. This put the Spot of Life on an entirely different basis. No longer was it a fearsome thing. The Jarados elevated death to the plane of motherhood something to glory in.
What I want to know is, just how well prepared you are to receive me?" "Then you come from the Jarados!" "Perhaps." "What do you know about him?" "This: someone should have preceded me! The fact and the substance-you were to have it inside three days! It has been several hundred times the space allotted! Is it not so?" The Rhamda's eyes were pin-pointed with eagerness. "Then it IS true!
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