Soon only Polaris and Lieutenant Everson were left in the great hall, Janess lying stretched on the floor, his head pillowed on his hand, and the lieutenant standing gloomily with folded arms, his back resting against one of the pillars. For many minutes those two talked of the things which had befallen; but neither one had a plan to offer.
"We must trust to the wit of this Oleric, of which I think he has plenty," said Polaris at length. "I believe that he wished us no ill, and I believe, too, that he forms some scheme for our advantage, though what it is I cannot guess."
"I don't like him," Everson said bluntly. "He is one of this nation of devils whose submarine sank my ship. Oh, for a few files of marines and a couple of twelve-inch guns!"
When Everson had gone, Polaris still lay at the foot of the pillar, thinking and planning, for he was a man in whom hope never died. He dozed at length, but suddenly he was wide awake. And, though he did not at once open his eyes, his wilderness-trained faculties, keen as those of any animal, were alert and watchful.
Something had come into the hall.
Nothing in living shape ever had struck fear into the heart of Polaris, and he had a healthy disbelief in the supernatural. He was not afraid now. But he felt that the presence that had entered the hall was both baleful and menacing. He felt the fixed regard of hidden eyes, and it sent an uneasy thrill through the roots of his hair at the back of his head. Whatever it was that had wakened him, it was not in the direction of the chambers where the others of his party lay, but far across the hall.
Cautiously he opened his eyes.
At first he could make out nothing. Then something stirred soundlessly from behind a far pillar near the wall. Polaris stared hard, and his eyes were almost more than mortal keen. For a fleeting instant he saw it clearly—the shape of a tall old man with snowy beard and hair, and with piercing eyes, full of evil. The man was dressed in flowing robes of white, on the breast of which glittered some object of burnished metal.
For an instant only the vision persisted on Polaris's retina. Then it was gone, and with no sound that even his sharp ears could catch.