And then I think I must have started very much as Croft himself had done the first time he beheld such a sight, as I became conscious of a man, blue as the blue girl of Mazzeria in the room behind me, wearing upon his shaven poll a single flaming tuft of red. He was a stalwart man, and he bore a skin equipped with a sprinkling-nozzle upon his back while he sprayed the beds of growing vegetation--accompanied in his occupation by a slow-stalking beast remarkably like a hound. Croft noted the direction of my glance and manner. "Mitlos--our majordomo, and Hupor," he said and smiled. "Zitu man, when I told you about them, the last thing I dreamed was that some day you should see them." "And now?" I returned with a strange inclination to chuckle as I thought that Jason was no longer alone in being the first mortal to reach Palos in the astral presence, even though his potent will had helped me to my present position. "And now"--he laughed in a tone of exultation--"you see not only them, but me, husband of Tamarizia's most beautiful woman, and thanks to you--the father of her child." "Nonsense," I exclaimed, doubly abashed by his praise and my thoughts of a moment before, "I did nothing--what can a ghost accomplish?" He turned fully toward me. His eyes burned with the strong fire of his spirit. "I came here even as you are, Murray, and"--he waved a hand in a comprehensive gesture--"I have accomplished this, and other things besides--yet not so much that this morning--the most wonderful of all my span of existence, I have either words or deeds in which the assistance your presence within the last few hours gave me, may be repaid." And no matter how he voiced it, I knew he meant it. The sincerity of his feeling forced itself upon me. "Let us not speak of payment," I said--and I confess I felt embarrassed by the value he seemed to place upon what was no more than my agreement with his own valuation of a now favorably passed condition. "As it happens, Croft, my presence here was no more than the granting of an expressed wish." He nodded. "The thought is father to the deed--isn't it, Murray? I thought of that last night. Come--I'll show you about the place." Turning he led the way along the balcony to one end. We went down the red and yellow stairs. At their foot was a group of sculptures--the figure of a man straining to defend a crouching woman from the fangs of a rending beast. It was of heroic size and wonderfully perfect in detail. I recalled it from Croft's description of it, and how once he had told Naia that so he would defend her were his right to do so granted. Well--last night I had seen him do it. I had seen him strain body and soul to guard her from the yawning jaws of death. I said as much. He gave me a glance. "You're an odd sort, Murray. You've a lot of the symbolism, the mysticism of life in your make-up. Come along. Let's get a breath of the morning air outside." * * * * *