He shook his head, a quiet smile on his lips. "No, on the contrary, it is you who speak my tongue. Not that it matters. We can converse in either. Now that we have undergone the ministration of the _vilyishna_, each of us possesses the other's language." He turned to the yellow-skinned _bonze_ who, heretofore, had been his sole interpreter. There was a curious comprehension and sympathy in his eyes. "And you, my friend--your brain has cleared?"[6] [Footnote 6: Study of brain structure has convinced medical men that the degree of human intelligence is commensurable not to the size of the brain, but by the number and depth of its convolutions. These groovelike depressions in the gray-matter are apparently fashioned by thought-action. Since it is also believed that thought itself is an electrical phenomenon, it is altogether conceivable that a machine might be devised whereby a transformation of patterns from one brain to another might be achieved. The _vilyishna_ of Rudra is evidently based on a refinement of some such principle as this.--Ed.] The surly Sheng-ti was surly no longer. An amazing change had come over him; his eyes, which had ever been dark and cloudy with half-mad suspicion, were now gleaming. Ramey knew, even before the old priest spoke, what this meant. The mysterious _vilyishna_ had performed for Sheng-ti the greatest of all possible services. It had lifted from his brain the cloud of insanity which had veiled it for years! Sheng-ti cried out, a choking little cry of joy, and dropped to his knees. "It is, O my Lord! Thou knowest it is indeed clear and strong again!" Sugriva laid a hand on his shoulder, raising him. "I am sorry it was necessary to subject you to even a moment's pain. But there was no other way. The patterns of the brain are not rearranged without a modicum of discomfort." As he spoke he opened the door again, they returned to the room whence they had come. "You are all recovered now?" * * * * * Dr. Aiken's eyes were those of a new Balboa staring out across uncharted seas of knowledge. "The _vilyishna_! Transference of knowledge by machine! Learning by superimposition of brain patterns!" he whispered. "Lord, what an achievement! Where did it come from?" "It is an invention of my people," Sugriva told him. "Your people?" repeated Ramey. "Who are your people, my Lord? In the world from which we came there are no men of your pigmentation. Who on earth _are_ your people?" It was then the blue lord Sugriva smiled. There was a touch of sadness in his voice. "My people are not of Earth, my young friend. They are of--another world altogether!"