prepare to face that fearful
thing--the Truth."

While the Hesea still spoke the silvery curtains swung to their place
as mysteriously as they had opened. Then, as though at some signal, the
black-robed priests advanced. Surrounding Atene, they led her from the
Sanctuary, accompanied by her uncle the Shaman, who, as it seemed to me,
either through fatigue or fear, could scarcely stand upon his feet, but
stood blinking his dim eyes as though the light dazed him. When these
were gone, the priests and priestesses, who all this time had been
ranged round the walls, far out of hearing of our talk, gathered
themselves into their separate companies, and still chanting, departed
also, leaving us alone with Oros and the corpse of the Khan, which
remained where it had been set down.

Now the head-priest Oros beckoned to us to follow him, and we went
also. Nor was I sorry to leave the place, for its death-like
loneliness--enhanced, strangely enough, as it was, by the flood of light
that filled it; a loneliness which was concentrated and expressed in the
awful figure stretched upon the bier, oppressed and overcame us, whose
nerves were broken by all that we had undergone. Thankful enough was I
when, having passed the transepts and down the length of the vast nave,
we came to the iron doors, the rock passage, and the outer gates, which,
as before, opened to let us through, and so at last into the sweet, cold
air of the night at that hour which precedes the dawn.

Oros led us to a house well-built and furnished, where at his bidding,
like men in a dream, we drank of some liquor which he gave us. I think
that drink was drugged, at least after swallowing it I remembered no
more till I awoke to find myself lying on a bed and feeling wonderfully
strong and well. This I thought strange, for a lamp burning in the room
showed me that it was still dark, and therefore that I could have rested
but a little time.

I tried to sleep again, but was not able, so fell to thinking till I
grew weary of the task. For here thoughts would not help me; nothing
could help, except the truth, "that fearful thing," as the veiled
Priestess had called it.

Oh! what if she should prove not the Ayesha whom we desired, but some
"fearful thing"? What were the meaning of the Khania's hints and of
her boldness, that surely had been inspired by the strength of a hidden
knowledge? What if--nay, it could not be--I would rise and dress my arm.
Or I would wake Leo