the open space in front of the temple was
deserted. Not a single worshiper had come to pay honor and tithe to the
Shining One; the altar was empty of offerings, and the priest himself
was absent from his accustomed post. Yet upon the ear fell the rumble
and clang of moving machinery, and the eye, piercing through the
half-lights of the archway, caught indefinite glimpses of the pulsing
mysteries of wheel and piston-rod that lay within the shadows.

"He must be within," said Nanna, leading the way. "Don't stumble around
like that. Here, take my hand."

Prostrate in front of the switch-board they found the priest, a mere
anatomy of a man, with his checks shrunken to the jaw, and his wasted
limbs no larger than those of a child. Yet he was alive and conscious,
the deep-set eyes glowing with suspicious fire as they turned upon his
unexpected guests.

"Starving," said Nanna, briefly, and proceeded to force a few drops of
wine from a pocket-flask between his lips, while Esmay ran for the
basket of food which had been brought along as an offertory in their
assumed character of worshippers. The stimulant acted powerfully, and
within the hour Prosper was so far restored as to be able to partake of
some solid food. Then he insisted upon getting to his feet, a gaunt and
terrible figure in his rusty cassock.

"I have my work to do," he reiterated, stubbornly. "I must be preparing
the harvest field for my lord's sickle, and already the time is ripe for
his appearing. Behold and believe!"

With a firm step he approached the switch-board and turned one of the
controlling levers. A flash of light, succeeded by a stream of crackling
sparks, leaped from the free end of a broken wire at the other end of
the building, and a pile of straw lying near it burst into flame. An
expert in electrical engineering would have understood that the broken
wire must be in proximity to a mass of metal, and that the powerful
current was being visibly hurled across the gap. Esmay uttered a cry,
and even Nanna shrank back. Prosper smiled.

"Who can abide the displeasure of the Shining One? Who can stand before
the flame of his wrath? A mighty and a terrible god, yet he would have
left his servant to starve before his altar--you have seen that for
yourselves. It is ten days now since even a woman has condescended to
kneel at his shrine and make her offerings of meat and drink. I, his
high-priest, may eat no common food, but how should the lord of heaven