“Then came the first Great War, which resulted in the enslavement of Cupia. Queen Formis, with the assistance of King Kew the First, decreed the razing of our temples and death to all our priests, and the true religion vanished from the face of Poros. “So, for many generations, we have watched and waited in our mountain strongholds, for the great liberator whose coming was fore-ordained. When you appeared from the Planet Minos and overthrew the ant empire, we still waited, for the prophecy of your coming had also contained the warning that we must remain in hiding until you shall have destroyed the last Formian. This you have not yet done. And this you must do, ere the true religion can be reestablished.” That certainly was an antenna-full! “What assurance have you that I will restore your spiritual dominion over Poros?” Cabot asked. “For I worship the God of Minos.” “We ask no assurance, and we need none,” Glamp-glamp replied, “the Great Architect of the Universe, call him by what name you will, has sent you to redeem Poros, and that is enough for us. In due course you will reestablish His religion.” Such calm faith! Cabot was almost convinced himself. Then a new suspicion clouded his firmament. “Am I a prisoner as hostage for this scheme?” he asked. “The Builder forbid!” the old priest exclaimed. “You are our honored guest, and are free to go as the winds. But first we must be sure of your complete recovery, for we have much at stake in your well-being.” Cabot was instantly sorry that he had spoken so; and humbly apologized. But the priest would have none of it. “Under the circumstances,” he said, “your suspicions were entirely justified.” Just then a blue ape entered the room with a message. The priest read the note, and then informed Cabot that he was to be granted an audience forthwith by the holy father. * * * * * Cabot was washed, shaved and dressed in a clean, Cupian toga, and then led, with steps feeble from his long illness, through many corridors to a door on which his conductor knocked several times. The knock was repeated from within, and the door swung slowly open, admitting them to a gorgeous vaulted hall, paved with precious stones, flanked with gold-chased pillars, and lighted on three sides by electric lamps in the shape of equilateral triangles. The hangings were magnificent tapestries in cloth of gold, platinum, copper and other metals, depicting early traditional scenes in the history of the planet. About fifty priests, dressed like Cabot’s conductor, were seated along the walls, some on special raised thrones; and in the center of the opposite side, on a raised platform, sat the leader of the faith, Owva, the holy father, who was the only cowled figure in the room. Owva’s face was the most serene and to-be-trusted that Myles Cabot had ever seen on any human being. One look at that face, and all Myles’s troubles passed away.