“The sun riseth and the earth is made glad, and it is day; and again he setteth and it is night, and the whole earth is sorrowful.  But though our sun is gone down and we shall see him rise no more, yet shall we see a sun which setteth not for ever, and of whose gladness there is no end.  The morning cometh, after which there shall be no evening.  The Lord Ahura Mazda, who made all things, made also these our bodies, and put us in them to live and move and have being for a space on earth.  And now he demands them again; for he gave them and they are his.  Let us give them readily as a sacrifice, for he who knoweth all things, knoweth also why it is meet that we should die.  And he who hath created all things which we see and which perish quickly, hath created also the things which we have not seen, but shall see hereafter;—­and the time is at hand when our eyes shall be opened to the world which endureth, though they be closed in death upon the things which perish.  Raise then a hymn of thanks with me to the All-Wise God, who is pleased to take us from time into eternity, from darkness into light, from change to immortality, from death by death to life undying.”

  "Praise we the All-Wise God, who hath made and
       created the years and the ages;
    Praise him who in the heavens hath sown and hath
       scattered the seed of the stars;
    Praise him who moves between the three ages that are,
       and that have been, and shall be;
    Praise him who rides on death, in whose hand are
       all power and honour and glory;
    Praise him who made what seemeth, the image of
       living, the shadow of life;
    Praise him who made what is, and hath made it
       eternal for ever and ever,
    Who made the days and nights, and created the darkness
       to follow the light,
    Who made the day of life, that should rise up and
       lighten the shadow of death."

Zoroaster raised one hand to heaven as he chanted the hymn, and all the priests sang with him in calm and holy melody, as though death were not even then with them.  But Nehushta still held his other hand fast, and her own were icy cold.

With a crash, as though the elements of the earth were dissolving into primeval confusion, the great bronze doors gave way, and fell clanging in—­and the yells of the besiegers came to the ears of the priests, as though the cover had been taken from the caldron of hell, suffering the din of the damned and their devils to burst forth in demoniac discord.

In an instant the temple was filled with a swarm of hideous men, whose eyes were red with the lust of blood and their hands with slaughter.  Their crooked swords gleamed aloft as they pressed forward in the rush, and their yells rent the very roof.

They had hoped for treasure,—­they saw but a handful of white-robed unarmed men, standing around one taller than the rest; and in the throng they saw two women.  Their rage knew no bounds, and their screams rose more piercing than ever, as they surrounded the doomed band, and overwhelmed them, and dyed their misshapen blades in the crimson blood that flowed so red and strong over the fair white vestures.