ot stop me?"

"No."

I was amazed at this.

"But," said I, "am I not a victim--preserved for the great sacrifice?"

"You are; but you are free to go where you like, and do what you like.
Your character of victim makes you most distinguished. It is the
highest honor and dignity. All believe that you rejoice in your high
dignity, and no one dreams that you are anxious to escape."

"But if I did escape, would they not pursue me?"

"Certainly not."

"What would they do for a victim?"

"They would wonder at your unaccountable flight, and then choose some
distinguished pauper."

"But if I were to stay here, would they not save me from death at
my entreaty?"

"Oh, certainly not; they would never understand such an entreaty.
That's a question of death, the supreme blessing. No one is capable of
such a base act as saving his fellow-man from death. All are eager to
help each other to such a fate."

"But if I were to fly they would not prevent me, and they would not
pursue me?"

"Oh no."

"Are there any in the land who are exempt from the sacrifice?"

"Oh yes; the Athons, Meleks, and Kohens--these are not worthy of the
honor. The artisans and tradesmen are sometimes permitted to attain to
this honor; the laborers in greater numbers; but it is the paupers who
are chiefly favored. And this is a matter of complaint among the rich
and powerful, that they cannot be sacrificed."

"Well, why couldn't I be made an Athon or a Kohen, and be exempted in
that way?"

"Oh, that would be too great a dishonor; it would be impossible.
On the contrary, the whole people are anxious to honor you to the
very uttermost, and to bestow upon you the greatest privileges and
blessings which can possibly be given. Oh no, it would be impossible
for them to allow you to become an Athon or a Kohen. As for me, I am
Malca, and therefore the lowest in the land--pitied and commiserated
by the haughty pauper class, who shake their heads at the thought of
one like me. All the people shower upon me incessantly new gifts and
new offices. If my present love of light and life were generally
known, they would punish me by giving me new contributions of wealth
and new offices and powers, which I do not want."

"But you love riches, do you not? and you must want them still?"

"No," said Layelah, "I do not want them now."

"Why, what do you want?" I asked.

"You!" said she, with a sweet smile.

I said nothing, but tried desperately to think of so