; I did not even care then whether Phorenice was
trapped, or whether she came out sound and fit for further mischief.
I crouched by the granite throne which stood in the middle of that
splendid square, and heard its stones grate together like the ends of a
broken bone as it rocked to the earth-waves.

In that night of dust and darkness it was hard to see the outline of
one's own hand, but I think that the Gods in some requital for the love
which had ached so long within me, gave me special power of sight. As
I watched, I saw the great carved rock which formed the capstone of the
throne move slightly and then move again, and then again; a tiny jerk
for each earth-pulse, but still there was an appreciable shifting; and,
moreover, the stone moved always to one side.

There was method in Zaemon's desperate work, and this in my blind panic
of love and haste, I had overlooked. So I went up the steps of the
throne on the side from which the great capstone was moving, and clung
there afire with expectation.

More and more violent did the earth-swing grow, though the graduations
of its increase could not be perceived, and the din of falling houses
and the shrieks and cries of hurt and frightened people went louder
up into the night. Thicker grew the dust that filled the air, till one
coughed and strangled in the breathing, and more black did the night
become as the dust rose and blotted the rare stars from sight. I clung
to an angle of the granite throne, crouching on the uppermost step but
one below the capstone, and could scarcely keep my place against the
violence of the earth tremors.

But still the huge capstone that was carved with the snake and the
outstretched hand held my love fast locked in her living tomb, and I
could have bit the cold granite at the impotence which barred me from
her. The people who kept thronging into the square were mad with
terror, but their very numbers made my case more desperate every moment.
"Phorenice, Goddess, aid us now!" some cried, and when the prayer
did not bring them instant relief, they fell to yammering out the old
confessions of the faith which they had learned in childhood, turning
in this hour of their dreadful need to those old Gods, which, through
so many dishonourable years, they had spurned and deserted. It was a
curious criticism on the balance of their real religion, if one had
cared to make it.

Louder grew the crash of falling masonry; and from the royal pyramid
itse