the temple door. It was shut, and priest
though I was, the secret of its opening was beyond me.

Here was a pretty pass. No one but the attendant priests of the temple
could move the mechanism which closed and opened the massive stone which
filled the doorway; and if all had gone out to attend this spectacle,
whatever it might be, that was stirring the city, why there I should be
no nearer enlargement than before.

There was no sound of life within the temple precincts; there were
evidences of decay and disuse spread broadcast on every hand; but
according to the ancient law there should be eternally one at least on
watch in the priests' dwellings, so down the passages which led to them
I made my way. It would have surprised me little to have found even
these deserted. That the old order was changed I knew, but I was only
then beginning to realise the ruthlessness with which it had been swept
away, and how much it had given place to the new.

However, there can be some faithful men remaining even in an age of
general apostasy, and on making my way to the door of the dwelling
(which lay in the roof of the temple) I gave the call, and presently it
was opened to me. The man who stood before me, peering dully through
the gloom, had at least remained constant to his vows, and I made the
salutation before him with a feeling of respect.

His name was Ro, and I remembered him well. We had passed through the
sacred college together, and always he had been known as the dullard.
He had capacity for learning little of the cult of the Gods, less of
the arts of ruling, less still of the handling of arms; and he had been
appointed to some lowly office in this obscure temple, and had risen to
being its second priest and one of its two custodians merely through the
desertion of all his colleagues. But it was not pleasant to think that a
fool should remain true where cleverer men abandoned the old beliefs.

Ro did before me the greater obeisance. He wore his beard curled in the
prevailing fashion, but it was badly done. His clothing was ill-fitting
and unbrushed. He always had been a slovenly fellow. "The temple door
is shut," he said, "and I only have the secret of its opening. My lord
comes here, therefore, by the secret way, and as one of the Seven. I am
my lord's servant."

"Then I ask this small service of you. Tell me, what stirs the city?"

"That impious Phorenice has declared herself Goddess, and declares that
she will lig