cle, and the great mob of people without, fell to
the ground adoring.

"Phorenice, Goddess!" they cried. "Phorenice, Goddess of all Atlantis!"

But for myself I did not kneel. I would have no part in this apostasy,
so I stood there awaiting fate.

10. A WOOING

A murmur quickly sprang up round me, which grew into shouts. "Kneel,"
one whispered, "kneel, sir, or you will be seen." And another cried:
"Kneel, you without beard, and do obeisance to the only Goddess, or by
the old Gods I will make myself her priest and butcher you!" And so the
shouts arose into a roar.

But presently the word "Deucalion" began to be bandied about, and there
came a moderation in the zeal of these enthusiasts. Deucalion, the man
who had left Atlantis twenty years before to rule Yucatan, they might
know little enough about, but Deucalion, who rode not many days back
beside the Empress in the golden castle beneath the canopy of snakes,
was a person they remembered; and when they weighed up his possible
ability for vengeance, the shouts died away from them limply.

So when the silence had grown again, and Phorenice turned and saw me
standing alone amongst all the prostrate worshippers, I stepped out from
the crowd and passed between two of the great stones, and went across
the circle to where she stood beside the altar. I did not prostrate
myself. At the prescribed distance I made the salutation which she
herself had ordered when she made me her chief minister, and then hailed
her with formal decorum as Empress.

"Deucalion, man of ice," she retorted.

"I still adhere to the old Gods!"

"I was not referring to that," said she, and looked at me with a
sidelong smile.

But here Ylga came up to us with a face that was white, and a hand that
shook, and made supplication for my life. "If he will not leave the old
Gods yet," she pleaded, "surely you will pardon him? He is a strong
man, and does not become a convert easily. You may change him later. But
think, Phorenice, he is Deucalion; and if you slay him here for this
one thing, there is no other man within all the marches of Atlantis who
would so worthily serve--"

The Empress took the words from her. "You slut," she cried out. "I have
you near me to appoint my wardrobe, and carry my fan, and do you dare
to put a meddling finger on my policies? Back with you, outside this
circle, or I'll have you whipped. Ay, and I'll do more. I'll serve you
as Zaemon served my captain, Tarca. S