“In whose name have you come?” asked the rider, whose face, hidden as it was beneath the brim of an immense hat, could not be seen.
“In the name of the prophet Elisha,” replied the young man with the mask.
“Then you are he whom I am waiting for.” And he dismounted.
“Are you prophet or disciple?” asked Morgan.
“Disciple,” replied the new-comer.
“Where is your master?”
“You will find him at the Chartreuse of Seillon.”
“Do you know how many Companions are there this evening?”
“Twelve.”
“Very good; if you meet any others send them there.”