good comrade," he said. "It is well for us that you are
here. You have thought of a good thing."

"May I go now?" said The Rat.

"This moment, if you are ready," was the answer. The Rat swung himself
to the door.

Loristan said to him a thing which was like the sudden lighting of a
great light in the very center of his being.

"You are one of us. Now that I know you are doing this I may even
sleep. You are one of us." And it was because he was following this
plan that The Rat had turned into Brandon Terrace and heard the
Samavian song ringing out from the locked basement of Number 10.

"Yes, he is one of us," Loristan said, when he told this part of the
story to Marco as they sat by the fire. "I had not been sure before.
I wanted to be very sure. Last night I saw into the depths of him and
KNEW. He may be trusted."

From that day The Rat held a new place. Lazarus himself, strangely
enough, did not resent his holding it. The boy was allowed to be near
Loristan as he had never dared to hope to be near. It was not merely
that he was allowed to serve him in many ways, but he was taken into
the intimacy which had before enclosed only the three. Loristan talked
to him as he talked to Marco, drawing him within the circle which held
so much that was comprehended without speech. The Rat knew that he was
being trained and observed and he realized it with exaltation. His
idol had said that he was "one of them" and he was watching and putting
him to tests so that he might find out how much he was one of them.
And he was doing it for some grave reason of his own. This thought
possessed The Rat's whole mind. Perhaps he was wondering if he should
find out that he was to be trusted, as a rock is to be trusted. That
he should even think that perhaps he might find that he was like a
rock, was inspiration enough.

"Sir," he said one night when they were alone together, because The Rat
had been copying a road-map. His voice was very low--"do you think
that--sometime--you could trust me as you trust Marco? Could it ever
be like that--ever?"

"The time has come," and Loristan's voice was almost as low as his own,
though strong and deep feeling underlay its quiet--"the time has come
when I can trust you with Marco--to be his companion--to care for him,
to stand by his side at any moment. And Marco is--Marco is my son."
That was enough to uplift The Rat to the skies. But there was more to
follow.

"It may not