“I thought of course that she was the girl you loved,” I confessed. “Who is she?”
“Of course I love her,” he explained; “all Vepaja loves her—she is the virgin daughter of a Vepajan jong!”
Had he been announcing the presence of a goddess on shipboard, his tone could have been no more reverential and awed. I endeavored to appear more impressed than I was, lest I offend him.
“Had she been the woman of your choice,” I said, “I should have been even more pleased to have had a part in her rescue than had she been the daughter of a dozen jongs.”
“That is nice of you,” he replied, “but do not let other Vepajans hear you say such things. You have told me of the divinities of that strange world from which you come; the persons of the jong and his children are similarly sacred to us.”
“Then, of course, they shall be sacred to me,” I assured him.
“By the way, I have word for you that should please you—a Vepajan would consider it a high honor. Duare desires to see you, that she may thank you personally. It is irregular, of course; but then circumstances have rendered strict adherence to the etiquette and customs of our country impracticable, if not impossible. Several hundred men already have looked upon her, many have spoken to her, and nearly all of them were enemies; so it can do no harm if she sees and speaks with her defenders and her friends.”
I did not understand what he was driving at, but I assented to what he had said and told him that I would pay my respects to the princess before the day was over.
I was very busy; and, if the truth must be told, I was not particularly excited about visiting the princess. In fact, I rather dreaded it, for I am not particularly keen about fawning and kotowing to royalty or anything else; but I decided that out of respect for Kamlot’s feelings I must get the thing over as soon as possible, and after he had left to attend to some duty, I made my way to the quarters allotted to Duare on the second deck.
The Amtorians do not knock on a door—they whistle. It is rather an improvement, I think, upon our custom. One has one’s own distinctive whistle. Some of them are quite elaborate airs. One soon learns to recognize the signals of one’s friends. A knock merely informs you that some one wishes to enter; a whistle tells you the same thing and also reveals the identity of your caller.