Then the others went away to change their travel and battle-stained clothes, and Kyrlos and I were left by the fire. He looked at my mail, and smiled in his slow way. “I called on Paulos for a few minutes as I rode by this morning,” he said, “and he told me he had fitted you out in his old mail. It suits you well, and if you bear it as bravely as he did, you will have much honour. I have ordered gear for your friends and your men, which will be ready to-morrow. If you ride in our wars, it is but fitting that we should arm you after our fashion.” “They will be very pleased, Kyrlos, I am sure. Wrexham told me just now that he would like mail in the next fight, and his man already wears some that he took from a Shaman he killed.” “Yes. We picked up two of Stephnos’s men on the road, who told us something of what happened. They were very full of talk of your friend and his man. The latter apparently saved the life of Stephnos’s head N.C.O., and it was seen by several. My people set great store by such matters, considering them greater passports to consideration than birth or wealth.” “Our people are also of the same mind. Indeed, Kyrlos, the more I see of the Sakae, the more I think of my own folk. When there is more time I must ride over and talk with Paulos, who, it seems, has many old books. I think there must be some kinship between your folk and mine from the old, old days.” “He will be pleased to have one with whom he can talk of the past, for he is a great student. But ’tis time we changed, I think. Certain of our chiefs will eat with us to-night.” When I went up to our rooms I found Forsyth listening enviously to Wrexham’s story. Also Firoz--still in his captured mail--outside the door chatting to Payindah, and the latter lamenting that he had not taken the trouble to collect a mail shirt in the gate. Both, however, were rejoicing at the opportunity of striking another blow at the Shamans, to whom they had taken the most violent dislike. They cheered up still further when I told them that they would get new clothes next day, for in their faded frayed khaki and worn _poshtins_ they were not able to swagger nearly as much as their hearts desired. CHAPTER XIX PAULOS DOES SOME THOUGHT-READING Dinner that night was a lengthy affair. There were some dozen lesser chiefs, as well as various officials and their wives, good-looking women for the most part. I had the luck to find myself by Aryenis, while Ziné was sandwiched between Wrexham and Forsyth. On my other hand was a youngish man named Andros, broad of shoulder and square of chin, very soldierly looking, and a cultured talker. He had many questions to ask about our country, our weapons, and so on. Later he transferred his attention to Wrexham, inquiring about the morning’s fight, and I got a chance of asking Aryenis who the different people were. “Has your uncle no children?” I asked, after she had pointed out the notabilities.