“The peace of a perfect day be with thee, Yermah,” said Akaza, the hierophant. He kissed the Dorado on the right cheek, the forehead, and then on the left cheek, as he stood clasping the young man’s arms, murmuring the names of the three attributes of Divinity. Only an initiate of the highest order ever gripped an arm in precisely the same manner as Akaza had done, and Yermah was gratified by the distinction and favor shown. “The same sweet grace be with thee now and always,” was Yermah’s greeting in return as he carried the long, thin, white beard of the old man to his lips. Then adroitly drawing Akaza’s arm through his own, he led the way to a nook in the private sitting-room facing the sanctuary, on the threshold of which he had encountered his visitor. “Forgive my keeping thee waiting,” he continued. “I yielded to the seductions of the balmy air and Cibolo’s easy gait, riding farther out than I at first intended.” “It were easier to make excuse hadst thou not unnecessarily cast insinuations on Cibolo,” answered Akaza, smiling. “It is not fair to the horse, since he is not here to make known how he was encouraged and abetted in his labor of love. I have but arrived from Ingharep, having completed calculations of the planets concerning our journey to Yo-Semite.[1] Walking in slowly, I was glad of the few moments’ breathing time.” He helped himself to some salted melon and dried anise seeds on the platter which his host pushed toward him, but he refused the cigarette the latter had rolled of corn-husks and filled with fine tobacco. Yermah picked at the anise seeds after ordering a pot of chocolate and some corn wafers. “Wouldst thou advise me to go at once, to offer this young priestess asylum here while negotiations are pending between Eko Tanga, the emissary of the land of the Ian of which she is a native, and the Monbas, holding her as hostage?” The hierophant hesitated and looked sharply at his auditor before replying. “Thou hast still to overcome that which bars the entrance before thou hast completed the labors of initiation, and I am not unmindful of thy real destiny. Yes,” he continued deliberately, and as if the fate of an immortal soul hung on his words, “yes. I am prepared to go with thee into the Yo-Semite. Whatever the result of the expedition, I will help thee to endure.” As he ceased speaking Yermah noticed that he held both thumbs tightly and sat motionless, save that his lips moved silently. His piercing dark eyes focused in empty space, and he seemed for a moment far away from his surroundings. “And the gold which I came here to find—does it lie in that direction? Will my initiation into the Sacred Mysteries be completed upon its discovery?” Yermah was carefully noting Akaza’s abstraction. “The gold thou art to find lies in that direction, and when found the Brotherhood of the White Star will welcome thee.”