"He lives!"
With Jasor's ears he heard the physician exclaim:
"This passes understanding, man of Zitu. He was dead, yet now he lives again!"
"The ways of Zitu oft pass the understanding, man of healing," said the priest, advancing to the bed. "What is man to understand the things that Zitu plans?"
Croft thrilled. Coordination between his conscious spirit and the body of the man of Palos was established. He had won again—won a visible, material existence on the planet with the woman he loved. The thought brought a sense of absolute satisfaction; he closed the lids above Jasor's eyes, and slept.
For several hours he lay in restful slumber, then awoke refreshed. His deductions had been correct. Jasor's body was healthy, aside from the weakening influences of his spirit. Given a strong spirit to dominate it now, it responded in full tide.
He glanced about. It was night. By the dim light of an oil-lamp he saw two persons in the room. One was the nurse. The other was the priest. They appeared to converse in lowered tones.
"Man of Zitu," Croft spoke for the first time with his new-found tongue.
The priest rose and hurried to him. "My son."
"I am much improved," said Croft. "In the morning I shall be almost wholly well."