Moonchild

not even with that code of convention which helps so many weak creatures through their temptations. I foresaw from the first that soon or late she would throw up the Experiment." "Your words touch me the more deeply because I also foresaw it from the first." "Yet you went on with it." [297] "Oh no!" Cyril's eyes were half closed. "What do you mean — Oh, no!" cried the other sharply. He knew his Cyril like a book. "I never even began," murmured the boy, dreamily. "You will be polite to explain yourself." Simon's lips took a certain grimness of grip upon themselves. "This telegram has consoled me in my grief," said Cyril, taking with languid grace a slip of paper from his pocket. "It came last week." Simon Iff turned it towards the light. "Horatii," he read. "A code word, I suppose. But this is dated from Iona, from the Holy House where Himself is!" "Himself" was the word used in the Order to designate its Head. "Yes," said Cyril, softly, "I was fortunate enough to interest Himself in the Experiment; so Sister Cybele has been there, under the charge of the Mahathera Phang!" "You young devil!" It was the first time that Simple Simon had been startled in forty years. "So you arranged this little game to draw the enemy's fire?" "Naturally, the safety of Sister Cybele was the first consideration." "And 'Horatii'?" "It's not a code word. I think it must be Roman History." "Three Boys!" "Rather a lot, isn't it?" "They'll be needed," said Simon grimly. "I have been doing magick too." "Do tell me." "The Quest of the Golden Fleece, Cyril. I've been sowing the Dragon's Teeth; you remember? Armed men sprang to life, and killed each other." [298] "But I don't see any armed men." "You will. Haven't you seen the papers?" "I never see papers. I'm a poet, and I like my lies the way mother used to make them."