"Yes! You are the High Priest of Mars: a big fat man like a Chinaman, with a rather cruel face. All the Chaldeans are like Chinese with yellow skins and oblong eyes."
"Perhaps they are Chinese."
"No! No. They are Turanians, the ancestors of the Mongolians. I am of the Aryan race, and I don't like the Turanians, who are brutal and lawless. Perhaps that is why you are so cruel."
"Am I cruel? Why am I cruel?"
"You like power, and desire to see every one at your feet. I am a vestal of the temple gifted with clairvoyance, and you use me to foresee the future and learn about other spheres. All this knowledge you turn to your own advantage. Oh, you are wicked. You really don't worship the Star-Angel."
"Whom or What do I worship then?" asked Enistor, again breaking away from Don Pablo's guidance, as the picture drawn by the clairvoyante did not please him.
"The Powers of Darkness: the Elemental Powers. Sometimes you steal away from the Temple after dark to see a very evil man, who is teaching you how to get power in a wrong way, through offering blood sacrifices."
"Who is the man?" questioned Enistor, still using his own will, in spite of signals from Narvaez.
"He is Don Pablo now. Then he was an Atlantean magician: one of the Lords of the Dark Face. You are his pupil, or rather his slave. He uses your intellect to make himself more powerful. There is some good in you, however, and you try to break away every now and then, but the chains that bind you are too strong."
For the first time Don Pablo spoke in a quietly enraged tone. "Stop asking questions on your own account, or I shall hurt you, Enistor."