Only I hope that war will come the first, lest the Spirits and the dead should bewitch me and take away my skill and courage." Then we parted, and too tired even to wonder any more, I threw myself down on my bed and slept.
I was awakened when the sun was already high, by the sound of Robertson, who was on his knees, praying aloud as usual, a habit of his which I confess got on my nerves.

Prayer, in my opinion, is a private matter between man and his Creator, that is, except in church; further, I did not in the least wish to hear all about Robertson's sins, which seemed to have been many and peculiar.

It is bad enough to have to bear the burden of one's own transgressions without learning of those of other people, that is, unless one is a priest and must do so professionally.
So I jumped up to escape and make arrangements for a wash, only to butt into old Billali, who was standing in the doorway contemplating Robertson with much interest and stroking his white beard.
He greeted me with his courteous bow and said, "Tell your companion, O Watcher, that it is not necessary for him to go upon his knees to She-who-commands--and must be obeyed," he added with emphasis, "when he is not in her presence, and that even then he would do well to keep silent, since so much talking in a strange tongue might trouble her." I burst out laughing and answered, "He does not go upon his knees and pray to She-who-commands, but to the Great One who is in the sky." "Indeed, Watcher.

Well, here we only know a Great One who is upon the earth, though it is true that perhaps she visits the skies sometimes." "Is it so, Billali ?" I answered incredulously.

"And now, I would ask you to take me to some place where I can bathe." "It is ready," he replied.