ces. Then the most honored
in all the land are publicly presented with the blessing of death,
and allowed to depart this hated life, and go to the realms of that
eternal darkness which they love so well. It is the greatest of
sacrifices, and is followed by the greatest of feasts. Thus the busy
season--the loved season of darkness--ends, and the long, hateful
season of light begins, when the Kosekin lurk in caverns, and live in
this way in the presence of what may be called artificial darkness.

It was for us--for me and for Almah--the day of doom. Since the
ceremony of separation I had not seen her; but my heart had been
always with her. I did not even know whether she was alive or not, but
believed that she must be; for I thought that if she had died I should
have heard of it, as the Kosekin would have rejoiced greatly over such
an event. For every death is to them an occasion of joy, and the death
of one so distinguished and so beloved as Almah would have given rise
to nothing less than a national festival.

Of time I had but a poor reckoning; but, from the way in which the
paupers kept account of their joms, I judged that about three months
had elapsed since the ceremony of separation.

The paupers were now all joyous with a hideous joy. The Chief Pauper
was more abhorrent than ever. He had the blood-thirst strong upon
him. He was on that jom to perform his horrible office of Sar
Tabakin, and as he accosted me he smiled the smile of a demon, and
congratulated me on my coming escape from life. To this I had no word
of answer to make; but my hands held my rifle and pistol, and these I
clutched with a firmer grasp as my last hour approached.

The time of departure at length arrived. Soldiers of the Kosekin came,
following the paupers, who went first, while the guards came after me.
Thus we all emerged into the open air. There the broad terrace already
mentioned spread out before my eyes, filled with thousands upon
thousands of human beings. It seemed as though the entire population
of the city was there, and so densely packed was this great crowd that
it was only with great difficulty that a way was laid open for our
passage.

Above was the sky, where the stars were twinkling faintly. There was
no longer the light of the aurora australis; the constellations
glimmered but dimly, the moon was shining with but a feeble ray; for
there far away over the icy crests of the lofty mountains I saw a long
line of splendid ef