At this I shot a glance at Lugur. He did not seem unduly interested. I wondered if the Russian had told him as yet of the girl of the rosy wall of the Moon Pool Chamber and the real reasons for our search. Then I answered as briefly as possible--omitting all reference to these things. The red dwarf watched me with unmistakable amusement--and I knew Marakinoff had told him. But clearly Lugur had kept his information even from Yolara; and as clearly she had spoken to none of that episode when O'Keefe's automatic had shattered the Keth-smitten vase. Again I felt that sense of deep bewilderment--of helpless search for clue to all the tangle. For two hours we were questioned and then the priestess called Rador and let us go. Larry was sombre as we returned. He walked about the room uneasily. "Hell's brewing here all right," he said at last, stopping before me. "I can't make out just the particular brand--that's all that bothers me. We're going to have a stiff fight, that's sure. What I want to do quick is to find the Golden Girl, Doc. Haven't seen her on the wall lately, have you?" he queried, hopefully fantastic. "Laugh if you want to," he went on. "But she's our best bet. It's going to be a race between her and the O'Keefe banshee--but I put my money on her. I had a queer experience while I was in that garden, after you'd left." His voice grew solemn. "Did you ever see a leprechaun, Doc?" I shook my head again, as solemnly. "He's a little man in green," said Larry. "Oh, about as high as your knee. I saw one once--in Carntogher Woods. And as I sat there, half asleep, in Yolara's garden, the living spit of him stepped out from one of those bushes, twirling a little shillalah. "'It's a tight box ye're gettin' in, Larry avick,' said he, 'but don't ye be downhearted, lad.' "'I'm carrying on,' said I, 'but you're a long way from Ireland,' I said, or thought I did. "'Ye've a lot o' friends there,' he answered. 'An' where the heart rests the feet are swift to follow. Not that I'm sayin' I'd like to live here, Larry,' said he. "'I know where my heart is now,' I told him. 'It rests on a girl with golden eyes and the hair and swan-white breast of Eilidh the Fair--but me feet don't seem to get me to her,' I said." The brogue thickened. "An' the little man in green nodded his head an' whirled his shillalah.