It was become dark. Presently a new kind of light began to glow
far overhead, gradually increasing in strength until the whole
place was suffused with a sun-like illumination. The Rhamda Geos
began to speak.
"In the last day, in the Day of Life. We have the substance of
ourselves, and the words of the prophet. The Jarados has written
his prophecy in letters of gold, for all to see. 'The false ones.
Them ye shall slay.' It is the will of the Rhamdas that the great
Bar Senestro shall try the proof of the occult. On this, the first
of the Sixteen Days, the test shall be--on the Spot of Life!"
He turned away. The Bar Senestro stripped off his jewels, his
semi-armour, and stood clad in the manner of Watson. They advanced
and met in the centre of the dais, two athletes, lithe, strong,
handsome, their muscles aquiver with vitality and their skins
silken with health. Champions of two worlds, to wrestle for truth!
A low murmur arose, increasing until it filled the whole coliseum.
The silver-bronze pheasants flitted above the heads of all,
flashing like fragments of the spirit of light. And all of a
sudden--
One of them fluttered down and lit on Watson's shoulder.
The murmur of the throng dropped to a dead silence. Next moment a
stranger thing happened. The little creature broke forth in full-
throated song.
Watson instantly remembered the words of the Bar Senestro: "They
sing but for the Jarados.
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