w that African lions did not inhabit
this part of the globe. Doubtless it had escaped from some private
menagerie.

The fire, then, giving her confidence, she did not get into the
sarcophagus, but wandered about, building in her fancy the temple as it
had stood in its prime. The ceilings had been magnificently carved, no
two subjects alike; and the walls were of marble and jasper and
porphyry. A magic continent this Asia in its heyday. When her
forefathers had been rude barbarians, sailing the north seas or
sacrificing in Druidical rites, there had been art and culture here
such as has never been surpassed. India, of splendid pageants, of
brave warriors and gallant kings! Alas, how the mighty had fallen!
About her, penury, meanness, hypocrisy, uncleanliness, thievery and
unbridled passions. . . . What was that? Her heart missed a beat.
That pad-pad; that sniffling noise!

She whirled about, knocking over an idol. It came down with a crash
and, being of clay, lay in shards at her feet. (Unfortunately it was
the holy of holies in this temple.) How she gained the shelter of the
sarcophagus she never knew, but gain it she did, and cowered down
within. She could hear the beast trotting round and round, sniffling
and rumbling in his throat. Then the roaring of the preceding night
was repeated. The old fellow evidently could not find those other
lions who roared back at him so valiantly. Evidently fire had no
terrors for him. For an hour or more he patrolled the portico, and all
this time Kathlyn did not stir, hardly daring to breathe for fear he
might undertake to peer into the sarcophagus.

Silence. A low roar from the inner shrine told her that for the
present she was safe. To-morrow she must fly, whither did not matter.
Toward four o'clock she fell into a doze and was finally awakened by
the sound of voices raised in anger.

Poor sheep! They had discovered the shattered idol. It did not matter
at all that the return of their ancient goddess was to bring back
prosperity. She had broken their favorite idol. Damnation would come
in a devil's wind that night.

The holy man who had missed the chance of claiming the miraculous
appearance of Kathlyn as a work of his own now saw an opportunity to
rehabilitate himself in the eyes of those who had made his holiness a
comfortable existence. With a piece of the idol in his hand, he roused
Kathlyn and shook the clay before her face, jabbering violently.
Ka