CHAPTER IV

SHALL BLACK AND WHITE MATE? Alaric put down his pen, rested his tired head on his hands and waited. Yes, he had spoken truly, he had not told Eleuthera everything. An impulse swept over him to confess, to have it out, to rid himself of the evil thing by laying it at her feet. Well, later on, perhaps. Now, at any moment, Manlius might call him, and they would have to go together to the great Assembly Hall of the League. This was a time when Alaric would need all his alertness, all his intelligence. And yet here he w…