Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 16, 1921 — page 29: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

20 ceeded by my own endeavors in visiting him and Naia in their home. Between them they taught me somewhat of the Tamarizian tongue, Croft explaining that as all life was the same in reality, and the thought back of the word similar in intent even though the word itself might vary in sound, all languages were really one in thought and purpose. With that as a key, I soon discovered that the spoken words of those about me were not difficult for one in the astral condition to under- stand—that the vibrations of their thought affected the astral shell in a manner that made their meaning plain. I suggested to Croft that it was because of that very thing he had so readily appre- hended the speech of Tamarizia when he first projected himself to Palos and came down outside Himyra’s walls, rather than because of the similarity of their speech to the Sanscrit, now nearly a forgotten tongue on earth, and he nodded and smiled. “Exactly, Murray,” he agreed, “ but then I didn’t realize it altogether, and—” He broke off and glanced at his wife. “And you had something else to think about,” I said, grinning as I recalled how he had seen Naia that first morning and followed her to Lakkon’s house, drinking rin her beauty. “Tt’s true I wasn’t very logical in my considerations the first time I heard the language,” he replied, and Naia of Aphur dropped her eyes. The inner fires of her spirit seemed to quicken. I think she would have blushed had she been in the flesh in- stead of sitting there with us like an in- expressibly lovely wraith. So at least in those months I acquired a fair understanding of their speech, and I came more and more to regard their home ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. in the western mountains of Aphur, across the desert from Himyra, on Palos, with the same intimacy of feeling I might have ex- perienced for the home of two friends of earth. My conversations with Jason came more and more to resemble consultations on modern affairs. He asked me constantly concerning this and that fresh progress in mundane matters. He discussed with me his plans for improving material and social conditions on Palos. He had already es- tablished a series of public schools for the masses where, before his arrival, education of a sort had been provided only for the nobles and men of wealth. Plainly the man was planning to do more where he had already done so much. He had given them moturs—as they called them—airplanes, electricity, printing, telephones of short radius at least, weapons by which Zollaria’s schemes had been overthrown. And now he planned to lead them toward higher stand- ards of national and commercial and: indi- vidual life. And but for what occurred there is no telling what, working together as we were at the time, we might have ac- complished. Indeed Croft had established both wire- less and telegraphic communication between Zitra and Himyra, and was planning rail- ways on which he intended to run motur- driven trains—was dreaming of a great belt line about the Central Sea, with lateral branches to reach every part of the nation. And then—one night he called me to him as he had called me the night of Jason’s birth—and I found him in the selfsame chamber, with the purple draperies half torn down and trampled—the fair form of Azil drowned in the mirror pool, beside which the dead body of Mitlos the Maz- zerian majordomo lay sprawled. (To be continued NEXT WEEK.) U U U THE TRIUMPH OF SPRING "MP the green boughs that interlace I-see a matchless form and face, With deep-blue eyes and sun-bright hair— Spring, the coy maid, forever fair, Whose roguish yet defiant glance Defeats old Winter’s last advance! William H. Hayne. cCoOmicloool C©