On the one side the line was blue, on the other crimson; they were guards. And where the various avenues intersected cables must have been stretched; for these streets were packed and jammed with a surging multitude, which the guards seemed engaged in holding back. As far up the avenues as Chick could see, the seething mass of fellow creatures extended, a gently pulsing vari-coloured potential commotion.

As he looked one of the packed streets broke into confusion. He could see the guards wheeling and running into formation; from behind, other platoons rushed up reinforcements. The great crowd was rolling forward, breaking on the edge of the spear-armed guards like the surf of a rolling sea.

Chick had a sudden thought. Were they not looking up at his window? He could glimpse arms uplifted and hands pointed. Even the guards, those held in reserve, looked up. Then--such was the distance--the rumble of the mob reached his ears; at the same time, spreading like a grass fire, the commotion broke out in another street, to another and another, until the air was filled with the new undertone of countless human tongues.

Chick was fascinated. The thing was over-strange. While he looked and listened the whole scene turned to conflict; the voice of the throng became ominous. The guards still held the cables, still beat back the populace. Could they hold out, wondered Chick idly; and what was it all about?

Something touched his shoulder. He wheeled. One of the tall, red-uniformed guards was standing beside him. Watson instinctively drew back, and as he did so the other stepped forward, touched the snap, and closed the window.

"What's the idea? I was just getting interested!"

The soldier nodded pleasantly, respectfully--reverently.

"Orders from below, my lord. Were you to remain at that window it would take all the guards in the Mahovisal to keep back the Thomahlians."

"Why?" Chick was astonished.

"There are a million pilgrims in the city, my lord, who have waited months for just one glimpse of you."

Watson considered. This was a new and a dazing aspect of the affair.

Evidently the expression on his face told the soldier that some explanation would not be amiss.

"The pilgrims are almost innumerable, my lord. They are all of the one great faith. They are, my lord, the true believers, the believers in the Day."

The Day! Instantly Watson recalled Senestro's use of the expression. He sensed a valuable clue. He caught and held the soldier's eye.

"Tell me," commanded Chick. "What is this Day of which you speak!"

XXXVI

AN ALLY, AND SOLID GROUND

The soldier replied unhesitatingly: "It is the Day of Life, my lord.

Others call it the 'first of the Sixteen Days.' Still others, simply the Day of the Prophet, or Jarados."

"When will it be?"

"Soon. It is but two days hence. And with the going down of the sun on that day the Fulfilment is to begin, and the Life is to come. Hence the crowd below, my lord; yet they are nothing compared with the crowds that today are pressing their way from all D'Hartia and Kospia towards the Mahovisal."

"All because of the Day?"

"And to see YOU, my lord."

"All believers in the Jarados?"

"All truly; but they do not all believe in your lordship. There are many sects, including the Bars, that consider you an imposter; but the rest--perhaps the most--believe you the Herald of the Day. All want to see you, for whatever motive."

"These Bars; who are they?"

"The military priesthood, my lord. As priests they teach a literal interpretation of the prophecy; as soldiers they maintain their own aggrandisement. To be more specific, my lord, it is they who accuse you of being one of the false ones."

"Why?"

"Because it is written in the prophecy, my lord, that we may expect impostors, and that we are to slay them."

"Then this coming contest with the Senestro--" beginning to sense the drift of things.

"Yes, my lord; it will be a physical contest, in which the best man destroys the other!"

The guard was a tall, finely made and truly handsome chap of perhaps thirty-five. Watson liked the clear blue of his eyes and the openness of his manner. At the same time he felt that he was being weighed and balanced.

"My lord is not afraid?"

"Not at all! I was just thinking--when does this kill take place?"

"Two days hence, my lord; on the first of the Sixteen Sacred Days."

And thus Chick found a staunch friend. The soldier's name, he learned, was "the Jan Lucar." He was supreme in command of the royal guards; and Chick soon came to feel that the man would as cheerfully lay down his life for him, Watson, as for the queen herself. All told, Chick was able to store away in his memory a few very important facts:

First, that the Aradna did not like the Senestro.

Second, that the Jan Lucar hated the great Bar because of the prince's ambition to wed the queen and her cousin, the Nervina; also because of his selfish, autocratic ways.

Next, that were the Nervina on hand she would thwart the Senestro; for she was a very learned woman, as advanced as the Rhamda Avec himself.

But that she was a queen first and a scholar afterwards; her motive in going through the Blind Spot was to take care of the political welfare of her people, her purposes were as high as Rhamda Avec's, but partook of statesmanship rather than spirituality.

Finally, that the Rhamdas were perfectly willing for the coming contest to take place, on the evening of the Day of the Prophet, in the Temple of the Bell and Leaf.

"Jan Lucar," Watson felt prompted to say, "you need have no fear as to the outcome of the ordeal, whatever it may be. With your faith in me, I cannot fail. For the present, I need books, papers, scientific data.

Moreover, I want to see the outside of this building."

The guardsman bowed. "The data is possible, my lord, but as to leaving the building--I must consult the queen and the Rhamda Geos first."

"But I said MUST" Watson dared to say. "I must go out into your world, see your cities, your lands, rivers, mountains, before I do aught else.

I must be sure!"

The other bowed again. He was visibly impressed.

"What you ask, my lord, is full of danger. You must not be seen in the streets--yet. Untold bloodshed would ensue inevitably. To half the Thomahlians you are sacred, and to the other half an impostor. I repeat, my lord, that I must see the Geos and the queen."

Another bow and the Jan disappeared, to return in a few moments with the Geos.

"The Jan has told me, my lord, that you would go out."