Thinking back to his quarrel with Gil Dawson, Verrill had to concede Ardelan's point and principle. And then he got back to the perils of being a stranger. The following day, he proposed, "Let me take part in the fire ceremony of an evening. In that way, I won't be a stranger so long." The chief got up, presently, and clapped his hands. A retainer came forward with two horses. They were hammer-headed, shaggy, Roman-nosed, and with fierce eyes. The saddles were sheepskin pads. There were no stirrups. Verrill said, "Excellency, you ride. I'll walk." They set out for the shrine. Meanwhile, half a dozen horsemen came in from the other end of the shelf. One, overtaking Verrill and the chief, slowed down enough to exchange a hail, and then pressed on. Before they came to the shrine, the rider had finished his business with Kwangtan, and was leaving. He circled wide, to avoid an encounter. This made Verrill uneasy. The man was dust-caked, sweat-drenched, and sagging. Ardelan frowned. "More trouble! That's one of the outpost guards. I wish I could have just the right amount of raiding, and no more." "He might have told you what it was about." "He will, at the sunset council. But Kwangtan has to dip his long nose into everything first, or he makes trouble." They got the news in a hurry. Standing in the entrance of the shrine, Kwangtan cursed his chief and the doctor as well. "Get that fellow out of here! He's come to steal the Fire of Skanderbek. And you're a fool for allowing him around here!" Ardelan endured the cursing until he had a chance to ask, "Have you had another vision, Holy One?" "The man who just rode up told me what I had already learned from the fire gods. This Verrill has promised the ruby to one of his women." "Who said that?" Verrill demanded. "One of your own people who fly down from heaven. One called Dawson. At the trading-post. Dawson talked about you to our men, and to our neighbors." "You stick to your own business," Ardelan interposed, quietly. "He will stick to his. He is an outlaw from his own people. Naturally, his enemies try to harm him." The snarling saint listened. He and Ardelan eyed each other. What unspoken thought passed between them was beyond Verrill's guessing; yet it must have had force, for Kwangtan offered no objection when Ardelan said, "Verrill, come in with me and bow to the flame." * * * * * The interior of the shrine was much larger than the front had suggested. This was because of a grotto in the overhang of the cliff. From a rift in the natural shelf of rock came hissing jets of fire. They wavered, varied, blending into each other and separating again. Behind the low barrier of flames was a monstrous ruby, uncut, yet a perfect hexagonal crystal, with edges clean and sharp. This was not from any alluvial deposit, else the faces would have been dulled and the edges chipped.