He walked out across the clearing, and Torin came with him, pointing out the path. When they were out of hearing, he said to Trehearne, "I would like it if you could forgive my parents. To me they are good and kind, but they do not understand the Vardda." "Perhaps they do," Trehearne said. "Better than you know." It was morning when they reached the compound, a green morning oppressed with heat. Trehearne was ready to drop, and even the boy was weary. Yann had been a heavy burden, shared between them. But all the way he had talked of the great ship. He would accept no other gift but that, to see the ship, and he pleaded so that Trehearne had not the heart to refuse him. After all, it was little enough reward for what the boy had done. "You will have to wait, though, perhaps a long while. I will have to do much talking, about _him_." "I will wait," said Torin, smiling. "I have waited all my life." It was the last great day of the trading and all the Vardda were inside the compound except one man who guarded the _Saarga_. The hatches were closed. Only the airlock port was open and the guard sat in front of it, yawning in the heat. He quit yawning when he saw Yann's body. Things were a little confused for Trehearne for a while. He talked, and then he patiently endured the tongue-lashing the skipper gave him. It was a rough one, such as a man deserved who would go drinking with a comrade and pass out and let his comrade be killed by natives. But when it was over there was nothing to do but order Yann buried and go on with the last trading. Trehearne was glad that Rohan and Perri were too busy right now to ask questions. When it was all finished he found Torin and went with him to the airlock port and spoke to the guard. "He helped me out there. Maybe he saved my life. I promised him a look around." The guard looked doubtful. "It's against the rules. The Old Man would have my head if he found out." "How can he find out? He's busy. Don't worry, I'll see the boy gets clear of the ship. You can look the other way." The guard could not withstand Torin's hungry gaze. He was a family man, with sons of his own. "Well--all right. Only be sure you get the kid out again--fast!" Trehearne saw to it. He showed Torin what he could, from the bridge to the generator rooms, and the boy trod softly as though he were in a holy place, touching, sighing, wondering. Trehearne was sorry he had brought him. It was pitiful to see all that longing that could never be fulfilled. He pressed upon Torin what few trinkets from other star-worlds he had in his own possession and then led him out from the ship and stood with the guard, watching the boy go slowly away across the field, looking back, always back, until he was lost behind the compound wall. "Poor little beggar," said the guard. "Star-crazy, like all the rest of them. Well, he'll get over it." "I suppose so," said Trehearne, and was glad that he would not see Torin again.