The narrow crooked streets were jammed with pressing people.

"Yes," Ah-li agreed. "To my home first. And then the Selah will send for you."

In the Marlan language she gave her commands to Bohr. He seemed to assent. But in the light-radiance here which suffused the turmoil of the weird little village, Atwood had a better look at the leader of these Marlans. Bohr was close beside him; and on the Marlan's grotesque, ugly face, Atwood saw an expression very strange. A sort of sidelong leer at Atwood; and a look at Ah-li that made Atwood's heart pound. It was as though this Bohr were sullenly resentful. As though something which he might have been planning was going wrong. And abruptly, as though with a premonition of menace, Atwood recalled the only words of English which Bohr had spoken: The language of the Gods, he had said. "It, I understand. I am like a God too."

Ahead of them a larger dwelling loomed in the radiant glow. "My home," Ah-li said. "We will go there, and wait."

Ah-li's dwelling was a house seemingly of three mounds interlocked. A glow of dim purple radiance showed through its small window-openings. And there were upright ovals for doors. The milling crowd stood watching as they entered. There seemed three small rooms inside.

Amazement swept Atwood. There was crude furniture here, woven of plaited vines—a table; chairs. A low little couch with dried leaves upon it. Furniture almost in Earth-style.

"Where did you get that?" Atwood murmured as he surveyed it.

"That? Why, I made it. I do not know why, but that seemed the right thing to do."

Memories of her Earth-life which were stirring in her, so vague that she did not recognize them.

"You go now, Bohr," Ah-li added.

Atwood swung to find the Marlan behind him. "Yes," Bohr said, "I will tell to the Great-Selah that the Man-God has come." Bohr's wide heavy jaws were chewing; and as he stood eyeing Atwood, he swayed on his feet.

"You chew the intoxicating weed?" Ah-li said reproachfully. "That is not good, Bohr. You want to be God-like—you should not do that."

"I know it," he said. His gaze fell before hers. And then as he turned to leave the room, again his strange flashing look swept Atwood, and there was hatred and menace in it.

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