"Here is your apparel for the feast, _Larree_," he said, pointing to the contents. O'Keefe stared, reached down and drew out a white, shimmering, softly metallic, long-sleeved tunic, a broad, silvery girdle, leg swathings of the same argent material, and sandals that seemed to be cut out from silver. He made a quick gesture of angry dissent. "Nay, _Larree_!" muttered the dwarf. "Wear them--I counsel it--I pray it--ask me not why," he went on swiftly, looking again at the globe. O'Keefe, as I, was impressed by his earnestness. The dwarf made a curiously expressive pleading gesture. O'Keefe abruptly took the garments; passed into the room of the fountain. "The Shining One dances not again?" I asked. "No," he said. "No"--he hesitate--"it is the usual feast that follows the sacrament! Lugur--and Double Tongue, who came with you, will be there," he added slowly. "Lugur--" I gasped in astonishment. "After what happened--he will be there?" "Perhaps because of what happened, Goodwin, my friend," he answered--his eyes again full of malice; "and there will be others--friends of Yolara--friends of Lugur--and perhaps another"--his voice was almost inaudible--"one whom they have not called--" He halted, half-fearfully, glancing at the globe; put finger to lips and spread himself out upon one of the couches. "Strike up the band"--came O'Keefe's voice--"here comes the hero!" He strode into the room. I am bound to say that the admiration in Rador's eyes was reflected in my own, and even, if involuntarily, in Olaf's. "A son of Siyana!" whispered Rador. He knelt, took from his girdle-pouch a silk-wrapped something, unwound it--and, still kneeling, drew out a slender poniard of gleaming white metal, hilted with the blue stones; he thrust it into O'Keefe's girdle; then gave him again the rare salute. "Come," he ordered and took us to the head of the pathway. "Now," he said grimly, "let the Silent Ones show their power--if they still have it!" And with this strange benediction, he turned back. "For God's sake, Larry," I urged as we approached the house of the priestess, "you'll be careful!" He nodded--but I saw with a little deadly pang of apprehension in my heart a puzzled, lurking doubt within his eyes. As we ascended the serpent steps Marakinoff appeared. He gave a signal to our guards--and I wondered what influence the Russian had attained, for promptly, without question, they drew aside. At me he smiled amiably. "Have you found your friends yet?" he went on--and now I sensed something deeply sinister in him. "No! It is too bad! Well, don't give up hope." He turned to O'Keefe. "Lieutenant, I would like to speak to you--alone!" "I've no secrets from Goodwin," answered O'Keefe. "So?" queried Marakinoff, suavely. He bent, whispered to Larry. The Irishman started, eyed him with a certain shocked incredulity, then turned to me.