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 Bar stood up, his black eyes dancing with mocking
laughter.
"The chosen, O Aradna? The chosen? Do not allow yourself to be
tricked by a little thing! I myself have been chosen by the
inherited law of the Thomahlia!" Then to Chick: "I see, Sir
Phantom, that our futures are to be intertwined with interest!"
"I don't know what you mean."
"No? Very good; if you are really come out of superstition, then I
shall teach you the value of materiality. You are well made and
handsome, likewise courageous. May the time soon come when you can
put your mettle to the test in a fair conflict!"
"It is your own saying, O Senestro!" warned Geos. "You must abide
by my Lord's reply."
"True; and I shall abide. I know nothing of black magic, or any
other. But I care not. I know only that I cannot accept this
stranger as a spirit. I have felt his muscles, and I know his
strength; they are a man's, and a Thomahlian's."
"Then you do not abide?"
"Yes, I do. That is, I do not claim him. He has won his freedom.
But as for endorsing him--no, not until he has given further
proof. Let him come to the Spot of Life. Let him take the ordeal.
Let him qualify on the Day of the Prophet.
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