"Do you think to be tolerated hereabouts in the future?" I asked.
"Hereabouts! It may be so; it may not be," he answered musingly.
"But my star is no ordinary star, Master Ormerod. And despite my
demerits, which seem to have impressed you unduly, if you will allow
me to say so, I am not entirely without certain capacities which are
valuable in adversity."
"The devil looks out for his own!" I ejaculated rudely.
"Needs must, if the devil drives," he countered. "Ah, well, we are
simply headed toward another fruitless bicker. You are strangely
burdened by that animus which the clergy dub conscience. Your
judgment is biased."
"Where you are concerned."
"I fear so," he deplored. "Let us set a term to this debate. Does
our treaty go into effect at once?"
"Yes."
"So be it. I will give orders to have your friends conducted here."
The battered remnants of our war-party appeared with Ta-wan-ne-ars
walking in the lead, his face once more a study in impassive rigor.
"Murray says we are free, brother," he said, stepping to my side.
"It is true."
The sadness shone momentarily in his eyes.
"I have had a bad dream, brother," he went on.
"'Twas no dream," I cried. "Do not doubt your sorrow, Ta-wan-ne-ars.
It was----"
"It was a dream," he answered steadily. "My Lost Soul is redeemed by
Ha-wen-ne-yu and is gone on before me for a visit to Ata-ent-sic.
But in a little time, when I am rested, I shall go after her and
fetch her back to dwell happily with me in my lodge."
"But how can you, a mortal, journey into the hereafter?" I protested.
"Did I not tell you an old tale of my people of a warrior who
ventured to the Land of Lost Souls? O my brother, the Great Spirit
is generous. He recognizes courage and true love. If I am daring of
everything, surely he will stand my aid and help me into
Ata-ent-sic's country."
"It can not be!"
"How shall we know it can not be until we have tried? Ta-wan-ne-ars
will try."
I could say no more. Such simple faith was unanswerable. And I
watched him, quietly directing the piling of the weapons of the
Keepers and the unbarring of the gate in the stockade. I wondered
how much of it was the unconscious working on a sensitive mind of the
very Christianity he had rejected.
Marjory's voice recalled me to the present.
"Master Murray tells me he hath surrendered," she said.
I turned eagerly to find her at my side. My hands leaped out for
hers, and she yielded them without hesitation, her brave eyes beaming
love and comradeship unashamed.
"Yes, we are free, Marjory. Will you come with me----"
She caught my meaning, and made to pull away from me.
"But we will have had no wooing," she exclaimed, half between
laughter and tears. "Sure, sir, you will not be expecting a maid to
yield without suit?"