“You don’t understand. That is the Provincial Council. This is a matter for the Federal Council, and Sanson is not your friend. Don’t you understand now? Sanson is working on the problem of immortality and doesn’t suspect. Boss Lembken is your friend. Don’t you know he is your friend?” “No,” I answered contemptuously. The old man clutched me in extreme agitation. “If you are headstrong you will go to ruin,” he cried. “Boss Lembken is your friend. He sent for you. Not Sanson. Boss Lembken discovered who you were while Sanson was dreaming over his victims. If Sanson knew he would get you into his power and overthrow the priesthood. He means to destroy the Ant and have no god. He is going to mate the goddess when she awakens—” He saw me start and clench my fists, and a deep-drawn “Ah!” of relief came from his lips. For I had betrayed my identity beyond all doubt; and it was to make sure of this that I had been sent into the Temple. I could see it all now. “Now listen to me,” he said, coming near and thrusting his repulsive old face into mine. “Boss Lembken wants you. He wants to help you and give you power. But he was not sure of you; and so he had to use craft and caution. When the Messiah comes Lembken will overthrow Sanson and make the world free again. It was Lembken who sent for you.” He was becoming incoherent with fright at my obduracy. “The People’s House is above the Temple,” he continued. “Boss Lembken lives there. He has a beautiful palace. You will be happy there. And Sanson has no palace and no delights. He wants nothing except to vivisect the morons. So you will not want to go to Sanson. He can offer you nothing. We must be cautious, and if he is in the Council Hall we must wait till he has gone, for he controls the Guard, and if he saw you he would have you seized. That is why I gave you a priest’s robes—because Sanson dares not stop the priests, who are under Lembken. Come with me, then.” I accompanied him out into the gallery above the auditorium, in which the orators were still declaiming to a lessening crowd. Sanson or Lembken, it mattered little to me. I felt enmeshed in some plot whose meaning was incomprehensible. But I meant to win Esther. I walked like a somnambulist, feeling that the dream might dissolve at any moment. A shaft from the western sun struck blood-red on a window. A pigeon that had perched among the columns fluttered to the ground. Above me I saw tier upon tier of galleries. We ascended the marble stairway, the guards making no attempt to stop us, nor were we challenged. I noticed that they were armed with Ray rods, similar to those that I had seen in the cellar; and they raised them in salutation as we passed.