Prince Tabnit was speaking the English, and every word was clearly audible and, moreover, was probably daily upon St.George's lips.

But if it had been to ransom the rest of the world from its night he could not have understood what the prince was saying.

Every word was a word that belonged as much to St.
George as to the prince; but in some unfathomable fashion the inner sense of what he said for ever eluded, dissolving in the air of which it was a part.

And yet, past all doubting, St.George knew that he was hearing the essence of that strange knowledge which the Isle of Yaque had won while all the rest of mankind struggled for it--he knew with the certainty with which we recognize strange forces in a dozen of the every-day things of life, in electricity, in telepathy, in dreams.

With the same certainty he realized that what the prince was saying would, if he could understand, lift a certain veil.