t there might be here some equally hideous
female--someone like the nightmare hag of the outer sea--a torment
and a horror to Almah.

CHAPTER XXIX

THE CEREMONY OF SEPARATION

Separated from Almah, surrounded by foul fiends, in darkness and the
shadow of death, with the baleful prospect of the Mista Kosek, it
was mine to endure the bitterest anguish and despair; and in me these
feelings were all the worse from the thought that Almah was in a
similar state, and was enduring equal woes. All that I suffered in my
present condition she too was suffering--and from this there was no
possibility of escape. Perhaps her surroundings were even worse, and
her sufferings keener; for who could tell what these people might
inflict in their strange and perverted impulses?

Many joms passed, and there was only one thing that sustained
me--the hope of seeing Almah yet again, though it were but for a
moment. That hope, however, was but faint. There was no escape. The
gate was barred without and within. I was surrounded by miscreants,
who formed the chief class in the state and the ruling order. The
Chief Pauper was the highest magistrate in the land, from whose
opinion there was no appeal, and the other paupers here formed the
Kosekin senate. Here, in imprisonment and darkness, they formed a
secret tribunal and controlled everything. They were objects of envy
to all. All looked forward to this position as the highest object of
human ambition, and the friends and relatives of those here rejoiced
in their honor. Their powers were not executive, but deliberative. To
the Meleks and Athons was left the exercise of authority, but their
acts were always in subordination to the will of the paupers.

"I have everything that heart can wish," said the Chief Pauper to
me once. "Look at me, Atam-or, and see me as I stand here: I have
poverty, squalor, cold, perpetual darkness, the privilege of killing
others, the near prospect of death, and the certainty of the Mista
Kosek--all these I have, and yet, Atam-or, after all, I am not happy."

To this strange speech I had nothing to say.

"Yes," continued the Chief Pauper, in a pensive tone, "for twenty
seasons I have reigned as chief of the Kosekin in this place. My
cavern is the coldest, squalidest, and darkest in the land. My raiment
is the coarsest rags. I have separated from all my friends. I have had
much sickness. I have the closest captivity. Death, darkness, poverty,
want, all that