With a heavinessbeginning to grow at my heart, I too went inside
the pyramid, and the stone doors, with a sullen thud, closed behind

us.
We did not go far just then. Phorenice halted in the hall of

waiting. How well I remembered the place, with the pictures of
kings on its red walls, and the burning fountain of earth-breath

which blazed from a jet of bronze in the middle of the flooring and
gave it light. The old King that was gone had come this far of his

complaisance when he bade me farewell as I set out twenty years
before for my vice-royalty in Yucatan. But the air of the hall was

different to what it had been in those old days. Then it was pure
and sweet. Now it was heavy with some scent, and I found it

languid and oppressive.
"My minister," said the Empress, "I acquit you of intentional

insult; but I think the colonial air has made you a very simple
man. Such an obeisance as you showed to that mountain not a minute

since has not been made since I was sent to reign over this
kingdom."

"Your Majesty," I said, "I am a member of the Priests' Clan
and was brought up in their tenets. I have been taught, before

entering a house, to thank the Gods, and more especially our Lord
the Sun, for the good air that He and They have provided. It has

been my fate more than once to be chased by streams of fire and
stinking air amongst the mountains during one of their sudden

boils, and so I can say the prescribed prayer upon this matter
straight from my heart."

"Circumstances have changed since you left Atlantis," said
Phorenice, "and when thanks are given now, they are not thrown at

those old Gods."
I saw her meaning, and almost started at the impiety of it.

If this was to be the new rule of things, I would have no hand in
it. Fate might deal with me as it chose. To serve truly a

reigning monarch, that I was prepared for; but to palter with
sacrilege, and accept a swineherd's daughter as a God, who should

receive prayers and obeisances, revolted my manhood. So I invited
a crisis.

"Phorenice," I said, "I have been a priest from my childhood
up, revering the Gods, and growing intimate with their mysteries.

Till I find for myself that those old things are false, I must
stand by that allegiance, and if there is a cost for this

faithfulness I must pay it."
She looked at me with a slow smile. "You are a strong man,

Deucalion," she said.
I bowed.

"I have heard others as stubborn," she said, "but they were
converted." She shook out the ruddy bunches of her hair, and stood

so that the light of the burning earth-breath might fall on the
loveliness of her face and form. "I have found it as easy to

convert the stubborn as to burn them. Indeed, there has been
little talk of burning. They have all rushed to conversion,

whether I would or no. But it seems that my poor looks and tongue
are wanting in charm to-day."

"Phorenice is Empress," I said stolidly, "and I am her
servant. To-morrow, if she gives me leave, I will clear away this

rabble which clamours outside the walls. I must begin to prove my
uses."

"I am told you are a pretty fighter," said she. "Well, I hold
some small skill in arms myself, and have a conceit that I am

something of a judge. To-morrow we will take a taste of battle
together. But to-day I must carry through the honourable reception

I have planned for you, Deucalion. The feast will be set ready
soon, and you will wish to make ready for the feast. There are

chambers here selected for your use, and stored with what is
needful. Ylga will show you their places."

We waited, the fan-girl and I, till Phorenice had passed out
of the glow of the light-jet, and had left the hall of waiting

through a doorwayamongst the shadows of its farther angle, and
then (the girl taking a lamp and leading) we also threaded our way

through the narrow mazes of the pyramid.
Everywhere the air was full of perfumes, and everywhere the

passages turned and twisted and doubled through the solid stone of
the pyramid, so that strangers might have spent hours--yes, or

days--in search before they came to the chamber they desired.
There was a fine cunningness about those forgotten builders who set

up this royal pyramid. They had no mind that kings should fall by
the hand of vulgar assassins who might come in suddenly from

outside. And it is said also that the king of the time, to make
doubly sure, killed all that had built the pyramid, or seen even

the lay of its inner stones.
But the fan-girl led the way with the lamp swinging in her

hand, as one accustomed to the mazes. Here she doubled, there she
turned, and here she stopped in the middle of a blank wall to push

a stone, which swung to let us pass. And once she pressed at the
corner of a flagstone on the floor, which reared up to the thrust

of her foot, and showed us a stair steep and narrow. That we
descended, coming to the foot of an inclined way which led us

upward again; and so by degrees we came unto the chamber which had
been given for my use.

"There is raiment in all these chests which stand by the walls,"
said the girl, "and jewels and gauds in that bronze coffer.

They are Phorenice's first presents, she bid me say, and but a
small earnest of what is to come. My Lord Deucalion can drop his

simplicity now, and fig himself out in finery to suit the fashion."
"Girl," I said sharply, "be more decorous with your tongue, and

spare me such small advice."
"If my Lord Deucalion thinks this a rudeness, he can give a word

to Phorenice, and I shall be whipped. If he asks it, I can be
stripped and scourged before him. The Empress will do much for

Deucalion just now."
"Girl," I said, "you are nearer to that whipping than you think

for."
"I have got a name," she retorted, looking at me sullenly from

under her black brows. "They call me Ylga. You might have heard
that as we rode here on the mammoth, had you not been so wrapped up

in Phorenice."
I gazed at her curiously. "You have never seen me before," I

said, "and the first words you utter are those that might well
bring trouble to yourself. There is some object in all this."

She went and pushed to the massive stone that swung in the
doorway of the chamber. Then she put her little jewelled fingers

on my garment and drew me carefully away from the airshaft into the
farther corner. "I am the daughter of Zaemon," she said, "whom you

knew."
"You bring me some message from him?"

"How could I? He lives in the priests' dwellings on the
Mountain you did obeisance to. I have not put eyes on him these

two years. But when I saw you first step out from that red
pavilion they had pitched at the harbour side, I--I felt a pity for

you, Deucalion. I remembered you were my father's, Zaemon's,
friend, and I knew what Phorenice had in store. She has been

plotting it all these two months."
"I cannot hear words against the Empress."

"And yet--"
"What?"

She stamped her sandal upon the stone of the floor. "You must