"Well! Well! Well?"
"I don't know who or what he is," confessed the other.
"He is a man then?"
"Yes, I know that much!" Narvaez drank a glass of water, and rose with an effort as if his bones pained him. "We had better understand the situation." In spite of his mind-reading Enistor could not understand and said as much with a puzzled air. Narvaez laughed softly for a moment and then became his usual calm self. "I refer to the position on the physical plane of you and myself and those surrounding us—the flesh and blood puppets I mean with which we have to deal."
"Are they puppets?" demanded Enistor dubiously.
"One is not. You can guess that I mean our powerful adversary. But the others—bah!" he swept the air with one lean hand. "I think I can deal with them, if you give me your assistance."
"I have promised to give it—at a price," said Enistor tartly.
The guest stared at him with a sphinx-like expression. "I know your price and you shall have your price," he dropped into his chair again with an air of fatigue, and his eyes grew brighter than ever. "Listen, my friend. I came here from Spain three years ago in search of you, as I learned by my arts that you would be useful to me. You have the blood of my race in your veins, as you know, since that Spanish sailor, who was wrecked on these coasts in a galleon of the Great Armada, married your ancestress from whom you are descended."
"I know all this, Master."
"Quite so, but I wish to refresh your memory. I found you here a poor man——"