hat assail. A mightier than I am has doomed
him!"

Scarcely had she uttered these words before Margrave exclaimed, "Behold
how the Rose of the alchemist's dream enlarges its blooms from the folds
of its petals! I shall live, I shall live!"

I looked, and the liquid which glowed in the caldron had now taken a
splendour that mocked all comparisons borrowed from the lustre of gems.
In its prevalent colour it had, indeed, the dazzle and flash of the
ruby; but out from the mass of the molten red, broke coruscations of all
prismal hues, shooting, shifting, in a play that made the wavelets them
selves seem living things, sensible of their joy. No longer was there
scum or film upon the surface; only ever and anon a light rosy vapour
floating up, and quick lost in the haggard, heavy, sulphurous air,
hot with the conflagration rushing towards us from behind. And these
coruscations formed, on the surface of the molten ruby, literally the
shape of a Rose, its leaves made distinct in their outlines by sparks of
emerald and diamond and sapphire.

Even while gazing on this animated liquid lustre, a buoyant delight
seemed infused into my senses; all terrors conceived before were
annulled; the phantoms, whose armies had filled the wide spaces in
front, were forgotten; the crash of the forest behind was unheard.
In the reflection of that glory, Margrave's wan cheek seemed already
restored to the radiance it wore when I saw it first in the framework of
blooms.

As I gazed, thus enchanted, a cold hand touched my own.

"Hush!" whispered Ayesha, from the black veil, against which the rays of
the caldron fell blunt, and absorbed into Dark. "Behind us, the light of
the circle is extinct, but there we are guarded from all save the brutal
and soulless destroyers. But before!--but before!--see, two of the
lamps have died out!--see the blank of the gap in the ring Guard that
breach,--there the demons will enter."

"Not a drop is there left in his vessel by which to replenish the lamps
on the ring."

"Advance, then; thou hast still the light of the soul, and the demons
may recoil before a soul that is dauntless and guiltless. If not, Three
are lost!--as it is, One is doomed."

Thus adjured, silently, involuntarily, I passed from the Veiled Woman's
side, over the sere lines on the turf which had been traced by the
triangles of light long since extinguished, and towards the verge of
the circle. As I advanced, overhead rushed a dark cloud of