“Because I am a true Or-tis,” he replied. “Why should they send an Or-tis to The Butcher?” I demanded. “It is not strange that an Or-tis should send me, _the_ Julian; but why should an Or-tis send an Or-tis?” “He is not a true Or-tis who sends me,” replied the man, and then he laughed. “Why do you laugh?” “Is it not a strange joke of Fate,” he cried, “that sees _the_ Julian and _the_ Or-tis going to The Butcher together? By the blood of my sires! I think our feud be over, Julian, at least so far as you and I are concerned.” “It can never be over, Kalkar,” I replied. He shook his head. “Had my father lived and carried out his plans, I think it might have ended,” he insisted. “While an Or-tis and a Julian lived? Never!” “You are young, and the hate that has been suckled into you and yours from your mothers’ breasts for ages runs hot in your veins; but my father was old and he saw things as few of my kind, I imagine, ever have seen them. He was a kindly man and very learned, and he came to hate the Kalkars and the horrid wrong the first Or-tis did the world and our people when he brought them hither from the Moon, even as you and yours have hated them always. He knew the wrong and he wished to right it. Already he had planned means whereby he might get into communication with the Julians and join with them in undoing the crime that our ancestor committed upon the world. He was Jemadar, but he would have renounced his throne to be with his own kind again. Our blood strain is as clear as yours—we are Americans. There is no Kalkar or half-breed blood in our veins. There are perhaps a thousand others among us who have brought down their birthright unsullied. These he would have brought with him, for they all were tired of the Kalkar beasts. “But some of the Kalkar nobles learned of the plan, and among them was he who calls himself Or-tis and Jemadar. He is the son of a Kalkar woman by a renegade uncle of mine. There is Or-tis blood in his veins, but a drop of Kalkar makes one all Kalkar, therefore he is no Or-tis. “He assassinated my father, and then set out to exterminate every pure-blood Or-tis and all those other uncontaminated Americans who would not swear fealty to him. Some have done so to save their hides, but many have gone to The Butcher. In so far as I know, I am the last of the Or-tis line. There were two brothers and a sister, all younger than I. We scattered and I have not heard of them since, but I am sure that they are all dead. “Yes, if my father had lived the feud might have been ended; but tomorrow The Butcher will end it. However, the other way would have been better. What think you, Julian?” I stood meditating in silence for a long time. I wondered if, after all, the dead Jemadar’s way would not have been better. CHAPTER V THE SEA