They eyed King and me with a butcher's-eye appraisal, nodded, and resumed their consultation of the hand-written roll.

The characters on it looked like Sanskrit.
The Gray Mahatma faced the creature on the stone ledge, and spoke to King and me in English.
"That," he said, "is one of those who crossed the Pool of Terrors and became insane with pride.

Consider him.

He entered here demanding knowledge, having only the desire and not the honesty.

But since there is no way backward and even failure must subserve the universal cause, he was given knowledge and it made him what you see.