father will be greatly troubled when
you do not come home. I will come back to see you in a few hours, if
it is possible. I will tell you, however, that I have had disturbing
news which might make it necessary for us to leave the house in a
hurry. I might not have time to come down here again before leaving."

Marco stood with his back against a bit of wall and remained silent.

There was stillness for a few minutes, and then there was to be heard
the sound of footsteps marching away.

When the last distant echo died all was quite silent, and Marco drew a
long breath. Unbelievable as it may appear, it was in one sense almost
a breath of relief. In the rush of strange feeling which had swept
over him when he found himself facing the astounding situation
up-stairs, it had not been easy to realize what his thoughts really
were; there were so many of them and they came so fast. How could he
quite believe the evidence of his eyes and ears? A few minutes, only a
few minutes, had changed his prettily grateful and kindly acquaintance
into a subtle and cunning creature whose love for Samavia had been part
of a plot to harm it and to harm his father.

What did she and her companion want to do--what could they do if they
knew the things they were trying to force him to tell?

Marco braced his back against the wall stoutly.

"What will it be best to think about first?"

This he said because one of the most absorbingly fascinating things he
and his father talked about together was the power of the thoughts
which human beings allow to pass through their minds--the strange
strength of them. When they talked of this, Marco felt as if he were
listening to some marvelous Eastern story of magic which was true. In
Loristan's travels, he had visited the far Oriental countries, and he
had seen and learned many things which seemed marvels, and they had
taught him deep thinking. He had known, and reasoned through days with
men who believed that when they desired a thing, clear and exalted
thought would bring it to them. He had discovered why they believed
this, and had learned to understand their profound arguments.

What he himself believed, he had taught Marco quite simply from his
childhood. It was this: he himself--Marco, with the strong boy-body,
the thick mat of black hair, and the patched clothes--was the magician.
He held and waved his wand himself--and his wand was his own Thought.
When special privation or anxiety