thlyn understood readily enough. She had unwittingly committed a
sacrilege.

The natives gathered about and menaced her. Kathlyn rose, standing in
the sarcophagus, and extended her hands for silence. She was
frightened, but it would never do to let them see it. What Hindustani
she knew would in this case be of no manner of use. But we human
beings can, by facial expression and gesture, make known our messages
with understandable clearness. From her gestures, then, the holy men
gathered that she could recreate the god. She pointed toward the sun
and counted on her fingers.

The premier holy man, satisfied that he understood Kathlyn's gestures,
turned to the justly angered villagers and explained that with his aid
their priestess would, in five suns, recreate Vishnu in all his beauty.
Instantly the villagers prostrated themselves.

"Poor things!" murmured Kathlyn.

The holy men sent the natives away, for it was not meet that they
should witness magic in the making. They then squatted in the clay
court and curiously waited for her to begin. There was a well in the
inner shrine. To this she went with caution. The lion was evidently
foraging in the jungle. Kathlyn filled the copper vessel with water
and returned. Next, she gathered up what pieces of the idol she could
find and pieced them together. Here was her model. She then
approached one of the fakirs and signified that she had need of his
knife. He demurred at first, but at length consented to part with it.
She dug up a square piece of clay. In fine, she felt more like the
Kathlyn of old than she had since completing the leopard in her outdoor
studio. It occupied her thoughts, at least part of them, for she
realized that mayhap her life depended upon her skill in reproducing
the hideous idol.

As the two old hypocrites saw the clay take form and shape and the
mocking face gradually appear, they were assured that Kathlyn was
indeed the ancient priestess; and deep down in their souls they
experienced something of the awe they had often inspired in the poor
trusting ryot.

Kathlyn had talent bordering on genius. The idol was an exact replica
of the original one; more, there was a subtle beauty now where before
there had been a frank repulsiveness. It satisfied the holy men, and
the unveiling was greeted by the villagers with such joy that Kathlyn
forgave them and could have wept over them. She had made a god for
them, and they fell down and wor