Chick needed no great discernment to see that he had touched a
vital spot. The philosophy of the Rhamdas was firmly bound up with
spiritism; they had gone far in science, and had passed out of
mere belief into the deeper, finer understanding that went behind
the shadow for proof. 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?"
"I am," stated Watson, and met the other's keen scrutiny without
flinching.
Would the game work? At least it promised action; and now that he
had the old feeling of himself he was anxious to get under way.
Any feeling of fear was gone now. He calmly nodded his head.
"Yes, it is so. But sit down. I have still a bit more to tell
you."
The Rhamda resumed his seat. Clearly, his reverence had been
greatly augmented in the past few seconds. From that time on there
was a marked difference in his manner; and his speech, when he
addressed Chick, contained the expression "my lord"--an expression
that Watson found it easy enough to become accustomed to.
"Did you doubt, Rhamda Geos, that I came from the Jarados?"
"We did not doubt. We were certain.
Pages:
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284