Mr. Clifford turned off the road and pulled up beside a parked Cadillac sedan. Nearby was a small hut and a tiny enclosure. Within the enclosure, a goat munched on dry, colorless hay. In front of the hut a man sat cross-legged. He was very old and thin. His skin was burned black by the sun and he wore only a white sheet wound loosely around his body. His head was completely hairless and he looked as though he had sat there for years without moving a muscle. A woman sat on the ground in front of him. The sun was just setting and its rays played on her magnificent white hair; upon the wealth of color in her dress--a dress, Lee estimated, that must have cost several hundred dollars. Yet she sat in the dust before this ancient Indian and hung upon his every word. "We will wait," Mr. Clifford said. After a while, the woman got to her feet and approached the Cadillac. Lee saw her beautiful, calm, unlined face, and he was struck by her resemblance to Daphne. She looked nothing like Daphne in either face nor figure, yet they had in common an arresting mystic beauty that seemed to come from within. The woman smiled at Mr. Clifford who smiled back. No word was said. After she backed the car out and swung into the road, Mr. Clifford said, "Wait, please," and got out of the car. He approached the cross-legged man and sat down in the dust. They talked for a long time and when Mr. Clifford got up and returned to the car, it was after dusk, and the heavens over India were filled with great flaming stars. "I'll leave you now," Mr. Clifford said. "The man by the hut is known only as Abat Krishna. You may approach and talk to him." "Thank you." Clifford hesitated before getting in behind the wheel. His eyes turned toward the dark horizon. "There is danger ahead for you." "I am not afraid." "Perhaps you will find what you want. Perhaps you will die." "I will find my way. You said I might question this man?" "You may ask him anything you like. Goodbye." Mr. Clifford started the motor and drove away. The goat sent a bleat of farewell through the star-lit darkness. * * * * * Lee went to the hut and sat down in front of Abat Krishna. The Indian regarded the heavens and remained silent. "Who," Lee asked, "are the Great Ones?" "There are many names for the group. They have been called the Great White Brotherhood. They have been referred to as the Chosen Ones. But that name is misleading in that none are really chosen. The way is open to all. Nothing is given, all is earned." "Is Mr. Clifford a Great One?" "Possibly. I do not know." "Was it sheer chance that he found me in the gutter and lifted me up?" "Nothing is sheer chance, my son. The most casual movement of an insect's antenna is carefully planned." "What do the Great Ones do?" "Their duty--which is as simple and ordinary to them as ours is to us." "How may they be recognized?" "That would be difficult." "Where may one find a Great One?"