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The vague trouble and depression that had weighed upon his soul for hours now vanished completely, and hastening along, he sprang lightly up the marble stairs, and into the rainbow-colored, spacious hall, where the first person he saw was Zabastes the Critic. "Ah, good Zabastes!" he cried gayly, "Where is thy master Sah- luma? Has he returned in safety?"

The twain walked side by side, exchanging scarcely a word, Sah- luma seemed in a manner stunned by the violence of the late catastrophe, and Theos was too busy with his own thoughts to speak.

Meanwhile the fire raged continuously, the Temple was fast becoming a pillared mass of flames, . . and presently, choked and giddy with the sulphurous vapors he stopped abruptly, struggling for breath. His time had come at last, he thought, . . he with Sah- luma must die!

"Not now then, but hereafter, thou'lt be my fellow-traveller, Sah- luma? ... 'twill be a joyous time when we, set free of present hindrance, may journey through a myriad glorious scenes together, sharing such new and mutual gladness that perchance we scarce shall miss the splendor of Al-Kyris left behind!

"Naught can deceive me in the color of that gold!" went on Sah- luma dreamily, as with careful, somewhat tremulous fingers, he gently loosened the twisted shining threads that were so delicately knotted together, and smoothing them out to their full length, displayed what was indeed a lovely tress of hair bright as woven sunlight with a rippling wave in it that, like the tendril of a vine caught and wound about his hand as though it were a fond and feeling thing.