Then was Polaris silent for a long moment. "Nay," he answered at length. "Nay, Kalin, the love of the Rose is not mine. Somewhat I have guessed, and the rest her own words have made plain. There is a man—a brave American—" the words cost him an effort, "whom she loveth, and whom she will wed. He leadeth the party with which she came hither. He fareth forth on a dangerous quest, to return in honor and greatness to his own land—and the Rose—" He stopped.
Again Kalin looked strangely into his eyes. "And to save her for another thou darest all, even to thy life?"
"Ay, the man is worthy. And that she loveth me not, should my love for her be less that I should falter in her service? No, Kalin, that is not the way of Polaris," answered the son of the snows.
"And when thou hast won her way home, as I think thou wilt—for thou darest all things, and the high gods love those greatly daring—what then?"
"I have a duty laid on me, in the far North; and then—I know not."
Once again his strange smile passed over the face of Kalin the priest. "Now, thou Polaris, we indeed are brothers in all. Know that I, too, love the Rose, and would die even as thou wouldst, to save her, even to save her for another—but I had hoped that the other might be thee—I dearly hoped it. Nor that it may not be, lesseneth not the measure of the service of Kalin."
Polaris held out his hand, and his eyes were very bright as their fingers clasped.
"Kalin, my brother, may the gods set our feet in the same path, wherever it leadeth," he said.
As they proceeded toward the Judgement House they saw that many Sardanians were gathered there, and ever among the throng passed back and forth the black-robed figures of the priests of the gateway.
Kalin stationed Polaris by a pillar in the great hall, not far from the platform.