is not strange, since I know nothing, or practically nothing, of what conditions I may expect to confront me from moment to moment in this strange city of a strange world. All that we can do is to do our best. We have come thus far much more easily than I expected—perhaps we will go the whole distance with no greater friction—or we may stop within the next dozen steps, forever."
Pausing before the third entrance they glanced in, discovering several women squatting upon the floor. Two of them were of the warrior class, the others slaves of the white tunic. Komodoflorensal entered boldly.
"These are the quarters of Hamadalban?" he asked.
"They are," replied one of the women.
"And Kalfastoban’s are beyond?"
"Yes."
"And beyond Kalfastoban’s?" inquired the Trohanadalmakusian.
"A long gallery leads to the outer corridor. Upon this gallery open many chambers where live hundreds of people. I do not know them all. Whom do you seek?"
"Palastokar," replied Komodoflorensal quickly, choosing the first name that presented itself to his memory.
"I do not recall the name," said the woman, knitting her brows in thought.
"But I shall find him now, thanks to you,"
