These are the things Croft told me. It was three o'clock in the morning when he was done. "That was a month ago, Dr. Murray," he said, and sighed.
"But what became of Kyphallos?" I asked.
Croft smiled. "Kyphallos was placed under arrest and tried with speed," he replied. "He was sentenced to exile in that Zollaria he had tried to aid in her plans. He went forth in a rather boastful fashion and appeared at the capital, Berla, itself. But neither Helmor nor the tawny Kalamita would have aught to do with him since he could be of no further use to them. Only then I think did Kyphallos realize his true position, because then he drew himself up before Kalamita and asked her, for all time, to say he was nothing to her."
She replied with a sneering laugh.
Kyphallos gave her one look, drew his sword, held it before his breast, and fell upon it and died.
"And the maid?" I asked. "Pardon me, Croft, but I'm human! And like all human beings I recognize love as the main-spring of existence."
He laughed. "As it is—love, Murray, is life—the cause of all being. The maid is mine, or shall be so, soon as I return."
"You're going back?" I said.
He gave me a glance. "Of course. I ask nothing better. God, man, don't you understand that she waits for me—there? Oh, yes, I've seen her since Zollaria was beaten! I've held her in my arms—felt her lips. The wedding-day is set. It is to be in Himyra, with Magur as the priest. Man, can't you understand?"
"What?" I inquired.
His laugh came again. But it was nervous. "You rather force me to blow my own horn. Murray, I'm Tamarizia today. When we returned to Zitra victors and learned that Robur had driven the Mazzerians like chaff before the wind, and that Milidhur, outside of a skirmish or two, had found nothing to do, Tamhys gave me new rank. He named me Prince of Zitra, a title never known in Tamarizia before, but next in importance to the imperial throne. Man, I could have been emperor had I wished since Tamhys's term expired one week after we got back."
"Could have been?" I said.
"Yes." He smiled. "But—I didn't take it. Do you know what I did?"
"Hardly." I shook my head.
"You might deduce it," he returned. "Murray, Tamarizia is a republic now. She was ready for it. She had come nearly to it before I arrived. There was no reason why she should not set up a true democracy. When they offered me the crown I replied with a request. I called for a council of the states. I put the thing squarely before them. They hailed the suggestion with acclaim. My word was law, Murray—law.
"Last night when you called me back and I returned, do you know what was being done? Certainly not. But—we were completing the draft of the republican constitution. Nothing less. When I returned I found them clustered about me—those nobles of the nation. They thought me in a faint, all save Jadgor and Lakkon and Robur, of course. I caught their eyes and knew they understood. But I said nothing, and we finished the draft last night.
"Now Jasor's body, which I have used, lies in Zud's own room in the Zitra pyramid. It is guarded by a priest. Above it, between it and the Temple of Zitu, Murray, between it and God, Naia of Aphur is waiting, a virgin guarded by Virgins for my return, in that room where Ga, the eternal woman, broods above the sacred fire. Think you I shall not go back?"
"No—I think I would go myself if I could," I replied.
His eyes filled with a far-away look. "Earth is beautiful," he said. "I love it, its mountains and valleys, its streams and lakes, its fields of grass and flowers, but, Murray—there is something, someone now in my life I love beyond anything else. Man, I have found my mate. Like the moose of the great woods, I must answer her call.
"I shall go back. I shall make Naia of Aphur my wife. There will be an election to select a president of the new republic. I have been asked to put up my name. I think—no, Murray, I am sure, that Naia shall be the first lady of all Tamarizia at Zitra itself before long."
"And your body here? What will you do? Shall you tell her the truth?"
"Yes, I think so," he declared. "Truth is a wonderful thing. It should be kept sacred between a man and his mate. Were that done more commonly by man and his consort half the marital trouble of the world would disappear. But—what need have I of an earthly body any more?
"My life calls me to Palos. Henceforth I am through with earth. Hence, Murray, my friend, when I return from this final excursion, I shall do what I have never done before. I shall snap the invisible bond between this body and my spirit, which, until now, I have held intact. I shall remain here a very few days to perform some necessary tasks. I must provide for Mrs. Goss, and I desire my estate to be given to some foundation for the welfare of my race. Then—then, Murray—I shall go to the woman I love—Naia—my God-given mate!"
This is the story he told me that afternoon and night. Was he sane? I think so. Was the story true? I cannot say. And yet somewhere I feel that Jason Croft is living today—that he is happy, that he has won his great adventure, and that Naia of Aphur, that maid of the golden hair and purple eyes, is truly now his wife.
One thing I can set down with positive knowledge at the end. A week from the first time she called me, Mrs. Goss came to me again. I went with her to the great couch in Croft's study and—I found him dead! His body lay there lifeless, rigid and cold beyond any power of mine to help. It came over me that the man had kept his word and broken the subtle thread between it and his spirit, just as he had said he would. I straightened and told Mrs. Goss there was nothing I could do.
She wiped her dark, old eyes. "I knowed it," she said, "I knowed it! Somethin' told me I was goin' to lose him this time! I've knowed him from a baby, Dr. Murray. He was always a very strange man."