My fatigue was so great that I lay as if unconscious until the next
day. I awoke about three o'clock in the afternoon.
I thought at once of the events of the previous day; they seemed
amazing.
"Let me see," I said to myself. "Let us work this out. I must begin by
consulting Morhange."
I was ravenously hungry.
The gong which Tanit-Zerga had pointed out lay within arm's reach. I
struck it. A white Targa appeared.
"Show me the way to the library," I ordered.
He obeyed. As we wound our way through the labyrinth of stairs and
corridors I realized that I could never have found my way without his
help.
Morhange was in the library, intently reading a manuscript.
"A lost treatise of Saint Optat," he said. "Oh, if only Dom Granger
were here. See, it is written in semi-uncial characters."
I did not reply. My eyes were fixed on an object which lay on the
table beside the manuscript. It was an orichalch ring, exactly like
that which Antinea had given me the previous day and the one which she
herself wore.
Morhange smiled.
"Well?" I said.
"Well?"
"You have seen her?"
"I have indeed," Morhange replied.
"She is beautiful, is she not?"
"It would be difficult to dispute that," my comrade answered. "I even
believe that I can say that she is as intelligent as she is
beautiful."
There was a pause. Morhange was calmly fingering the orichalch ring.
"You know what our fate is to be?"
"I know. Le Mesge explained it to us yesterday in polite mythological
terms. This evidently is an extraordinary adventure."
He was silent, then said, looking at me: "I am very sorry to have dragged you here. The only mitigating feature
is that since last evening you seem to have been bearing your lot very
easily."
Where had Morhange learned this insight into the human heart? I did
not reply, thus giving him the best of proofs that he had judged
correctly.
"What do you think of doing?" I finally murmured.
He rolled up the manuscript, leaned back comfortably in his armchair
and lit a cigar.
"I have thought it over carefully. With the aid of my conscience I
have marked out a line of conduct. The matter is clear and admits no
discussion.
"The question is not quite the same for me as for you, because of my
semi-religious character, which, I admit, has set out on a rather
doubtful adventure. To be sure, I have not taken holy orders, but,
even aside from the fact that the ninth commandment itself forbids my
having relations with a woman not my wife, I admit that I have no
taste for the kind of forced servitude for which the excellent
Ceghéir-ben-Cheikh has so kindly recruited us.