"You think so, Seven? Well--who knows?--perhaps you are right."



VIII

COUNCIL OF THE GODLESS


Someone exclaimed in an accent of alarm: "Number One!"

With a concerted turning of startled heads, a hasty thrusting back of
chairs, the gathering rose in involuntary deference. That is, five rose as
one; and, after a moment during which his spirit of insubordination
faltered and failed, the Englishman got awkwardly to his feet and stood
abashed and sullen.

The one to remain seated was the Irishman so well turned out by Conduit
Street; who made no move more than slightly to elevate supercilious brows
and slouch a little lower in his chair, glancing from face to face of the
circle, then back to the cold countenance presented by the author of the
abrupt interruption.

This last stood quietly beside the eighth chair, a hand on its carved arm,
one foot on the edge of the dais. A long robe of black silk enveloped him;
on its bosom a Chinese unicorn was embroidered. His girdle clasp was of
Imperial jade set with rubies. The girdle itself was yellow. A great ruby
button, nearly an inch in diameter, set in a mounting of worked gold,
crowned a hat like an inverted round bowl. His black silk shoes were heavy