"
"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?"
An instant's stunned silence greeted this stab. It was broken by
the prince.
"The Jarados!" His voice was unruffled. "What know I of the
Jarados?"
"Take care! You have seen him--you know his power!"
"You have a courageous sort of impertinence!"
"I have determination and knowledge! Bar Senestro, I have come for
the Jarados!" Chick paused for effect. "Now what think you? Am I
of the chosen?"
He had meant it as a deliberate taunt, and so it was taken. The
Bar shot to his feet. Not that he was angered; his straight,
handsome form was kingly, and for all his impulsiveness there was
a certain real majesty about his every pose.
"You are of the chosen. It is well; you have given spice to the
taunt! I would not have it otherwise. Forget not your courage on
the Day of the Prophet!"
With that he stepped gracefully, superbly from the dais beneath
his throne. He bowed to the Aradna, to Geos, to Chick and to the
assembly--and was gone. The blue guard followed in silence.
The rest of the ordeal was soon done.
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