“Now, Oi don't enjoy pooblicity, sor; wherefore th' wily Scotch in me told me what to do, an' th' Irish part of me did it. I stood him on his head, an' took his clothes off an' put them on meself. An' then no one noticed me. Thot is, until Oi took me hat off.” “You mean, that shako?” “Yis; th' blaemd heavy thing--'tis made o' blue feathers. Well, whin it got so hot it made me scalp sweat, Oi took it off; an' then they called me--'My lord' an' 'your worship,' jest loike Oi were a king. “'Pray God,' says Oi, 'that me head dinna get bald.' “Well, sor, Oi had a toime that was fit for th' Irish. Oi did iverything 'cept git drunk; there was nothin' to git drunk with. But afther a while I ran across anither, wit' jest as red hair as I had. He was a foine man, av coorse, an' all surrounded by blue guards. He took me into a room himself an' begin askin' questions. “An' I lied, sor. Av coorse, 'twas lucky thot Oi had me Scotch larnin' an' caution to guide me; but whin Oi spoke, Oi wisely let th' Irishman do all th' talkin'. An' th' great Bar liked me. “'Verily,' says he, most solemnly, 'thou art of th' royal Bars!' An' he made me a high officer, he did.” “Was he the Bar Senestro?” asked Watson. “Nay; 'twas a far better man--Senestro's brother, that died not long after. When Oi saw th' Senestro, Oi had sinse enough to kape me mouth shut. An' now Oi'm a high Bar--next to th' Senestro hisself! What's more, sor, there's no one alive kens th' truth but yerself an' th' ould doctor.” It was a queer story, but in the light of all that had gone before, wonderfully convincing. Watson began to see light breaking through the darkness. “Now there are two,” the old lady at 288 Chatterton Place had said to Jerome, when the detective came looking for the vanished professor. Had she referred to Holcomb and MacPherson? Two had gone through the Blind Spot, and two had come out--the Rhamda Avec and the Nervina. “Now there are two,” she had said. “Tell me a little more about Holcomb, Pat!” “'Tis a short story. Oi can't tell ye much, owin' to orders from the old gent hisself. He came shortly after th' death of the first Bar, Senestro's brother. Seems there was some rumpus aboot th' old Rhamda Avec, which same Oi always kept away from--him as was goin' to prove th' spirits! Annyhow, we was guardin' th' temple awaitin' th' spook as was promised. An' thot's how we got th' ould doc. “But th' Rhamdas niver saw him. Th' Senestro double-crossed 'em, an' slipped th' doctor oop to th' Palace av Light.” “The Palace of--what?” “The Palace av light, sor. Tis th' home av th' Jarados. 'twas held always holy by th' Thomahlians; no man dared go within miles av it; since the Jarados was here, t'ousands of years ago, no one at all has been inside av it. “But the Senestro knew that th' doctor was th' real Jarados, at least he t'ought so; an' he wasna afraid o' him. He's na coward, th' Senestro. He put th' doctor in th' Jarados' home! Only th' Prophecy worries him at all.”