In the center of the court a plank table was flanked by grimy, well worn benches. On the table were the remains of a meal. Skor graciously waved us toward the benches; then he clapped his hands together three times before he seated himself at the head of the table.
"I seldom have guests here," he said. "It is quite a pleasant treat for me. I hope that you will enjoy your stay. I am sure that I shall," and as he spoke he looked at Duare in that way that I did not like.
"I am sure that we might enjoy it could we remain," replied Duare quickly, "but that is not possible. I must return to the house of my father."
"Where is that?" asked Skor.
"In Vepaja," explained Duare.
"I never heard of that country," said Skor. "Where is it?"
"You never heard of Vepaja!" exclaimed Duare incredulously. "Why, all the present country of Thora was called Vepaja until the Thorists rose and took it and drove the remnants of the ruling class to the island that is now all that remains of ancient Vepaja."
"Oh, yes, I had heard of that," admitted Skor; "but it was a long time ago and in distant Trabol."
"Is this not Trabol?" asked Duare.
"No," replied Skor; "this is Strabol."