"It _is_ well, Yolara." It was a woman's voice, and I knew it for that
old one of ravaged beauty. "Cast from your mind whatever is in it for
this stranger--either of love or hatred. In this the Council is with
Lugur and the man of wisdom."
There was a silence. Then came the priestess's voice, sullen
but--beaten.
"It is well!"
"Let the three be taken now by Rador to the temple and given to the
High Priest Sator"--thus Lugur--"until what we have planned comes to
pass."
Rador gripped the base of the globe; abruptly it ceased its spinning.
He turned to us as though to speak and even as he did so its bell note
sounded peremptorily and on it the colour films began to creep at
their accustomed pace.
"I hear," the green dwarf whispered. "They shall be taken there at
once." The globe grew silent. He stepped toward us.
"You have heard," he turned to us.
"Not on your life, Rador," said Larry. "Nothing doing!" And then in
the Murian's own tongue. "We follow Lakla, Rador. And _you_ lead the
way.
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