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"
But
it
is
,
"
said
Colon
.
Someone
else
in
the
city
was
also
ill
at
ease
.
He
was
the
Librarian
.
Sergeant
Colon
had
given
him
a
badge
.
The
Librarian
turned
it
round
and
round
in
his
big
gentle
hands
,
nibbling
at
it
.
It
wasn
’
t
that
the
city
suddenly
had
a
king
.
Orangs
are
traditionalists
,
and
you
couldn
’
t
get
more
traditional
than
a
king
.
But
they
also
liked
things
neat
,
and
things
weren
’
t
neat
.
Or
,
rather
,
they
were
too
neat
.
Truth
and
reality
were
never
as
neat
as
this
.
Sudden
heirs
to
ancient
thrones
didn
’
t
grow
on
trees
,
and
he
should
know
.
Besides
,
no
-
one
was
looking
for
his
book
.
That
was
human
priorities
for
you
.
The
book
was
the
key
to
it
.
He
was
sure
of
that
.
Well
,
there
was
one
way
to
find
out
what
was
in
the
book
.
It
was
a
perilous
way
,
but
the
Librarian
ambled
along
perilous
ways
all
day
.
In
the
silence
of
the
sleeping
library
he
opened
his
desk
and
removed
from
its
deepest
recesses
a
small
lantern
carefully
built
to
prevent
any
naked
flame
being
exposed
.
You
couldn
’
t
be
too
careful
with
all
this
paper
around
.
.
.
He
also
took
a
bag
of
peanuts
and
,
after
some
thought
,
a
large
ball
of
string
.
He
bit
off
a
short
length
of
the
string
and
used
it
-
to
tie
the
badge
around
his
neck
,
like
a
talisman
.
Then
he
tied
one
end
of
the
ball
to
the
desk
and
,
after
a
moment
’
s
contemplation
,
knuckled
off
between
the
bookshelves
,
paying
out
the
string
behind
him
.
Knowledge
equals
power
.
.
.
The
string
was
important
.
After
a
while
the
Librarian
stopped
.
He
concentrated
all
his
powers
of
librarianship
.
