And this his good
sense told him not to make, at the present moment.
"Any man would have done as much for your daughter," he said at
last, "and I am happy that I was the fortunate one to render her
assistance."
"You are wrong," said D'Arcambal, taking him by the arm. "You are
one out of a thousand. It takes a MAN to go through the Big
Thunder and come out at the other end alive. I know of only one
other who has done that in the last twenty years, and that other
is Henry d'Arcambal himself. We three, you, Jeanne, and I, have
alone triumphed over those monsters of death. All others have
died. It seems like a strange pointing of the hand of God."
Philip trembled.
"We three!" he exclaimed.
"We three," said the old man, "and for that reason you are a part
of Fort o' God."
He led Philip deeper into the great room, and Philip saw that
almost all the space along the walls of the huge room was occupied
by shelves upon shelves of books, masses of papers, piles of
magazines shoulder-high, scores of maps and paintings. The massive
table was covered with books; there were piles on smaller tables;
chairs, and the floor itself, covered with the skins of a score of
wild beasts, were littered with them.
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