Mr. Clifford started the motor and drove away. The goat sent a bleat of farewell through the star-lit darkness.
Lee went to the hut and sat down in front of Abat Krishna. The Indian regarded the heavens and remained silent.
"Who," Lee asked, "are the Great Ones?"
"There are many names for the group. They have been called the Great White Brotherhood. They have been referred to as the Chosen Ones. But that name is misleading in that none are really chosen. The way is open to all. Nothing is given, all is earned."
"Is Mr. Clifford a Great One?"
"Possibly. I do not know."
"Was it sheer chance that he found me in the gutter and lifted me up?"
"Nothing is sheer chance, my son. The most casual movement of an insect's antenna is carefully planned."
"What do the Great Ones do?"