THE OFFICER ROSE FROM behind the table. “Are you totally mad, Sporr? You mystic doctors are too apt to become fuddled—”
“But it is, it is!” The graybeard flourished a thin hand at me. “Look at him, you of little faith! Your mind dwells so much on material strength that you lose touch with the spiritual—”
He broke off, and wheeled on the attendant who had led him in. “To my study,” he commanded. “On the shelf behind my desk, bring the great gold-bound book that is third from the right.” Then he turned back, and bowed toward me. “Surely you are Yandro, the Conquering Stranger,” he said, intoning as if in formal prayer. “Pardon these short-sighted ones—deign to save us from our enemies—”
The girl Doriza spoke to the officer: “If Sporr speaks truth, and he generally does, you have committed
