world. To her, the one direction of the faculty seemed no less possible
than the others, though she had not yet attained alone to the vision of
the future. Hitherto the old man's utterances had been fulfilled to the
letter. More than once, as Keyork Arabian had hinted, she had consulted
his second sight in preference to her own, and she had not been
deceived. His greater learning and his vast experience lent to his
sayings something divine in her eyes; she looked upon him as the
Pythoness of Delphi looked upon the divinity of her inspiration.

The irresistible longing to hear the passionate pleadings of her own
heart solemnly confirmed by the voice in which she trusted overcame at
last every obstacle. Unorna bent over the sleeper, looking earnestly
into his face, and she laid one hand upon his brow.

"You hear me," she said, slowly and distinctly. "You are conscious of
thought, and you see into the future."

The massive head stirred, the long limbs moved uneasily under the white
robe, the enormous, bony hands contracted, and in the cavernous eyes the
great lids were slowly lifted. A dull stare met her look.

"Is it he?" she asked, speaking more quickly in spite of herself. "Is it
he at last?"

There was no answer. The lips did not part, there was not even the
attempt to speak. She had been sure that the one word would be spoken
unhesitatingly, and the silence startled her and brought back the doubt
which she had half forgotten.

"You must answer my question. I command you to answer me. Is it he?"

"You must tell me more before I can answer."

The words came in a feeble piping voice, strangely out of keeping with
the colossal frame and imposing features.

Unorna's face was clouded, and the ready gleam of anger flashed in her
eyes as it ever did at the smallest opposition to her will.

"Can you not see him?" she asked impatiently.

"I cannot see him unless you lead me to him and tell me where he is."

"Where are you?"

"In your mind."

"And what are you?"

"I am the image in your eyes."

"There is another man in my mind," said Unorna. "I command you to see
him."

"I see him. He is tall, pale, noble, suffering. You love him."

"Is it he who shall be my life and my death? Is it he who shall love me
as other women are not loved?"

The weak voice was still for a moment, and the face seemed covered with
a veil of perplexity.

"I see with your eyes," said the old man at last.

"And I command you to se