on which were carved some curious hieroglyphs, they plunged into what seemed to be a vast jungle enclosed in some dense tropical forest.  What a strange, unsightly thicket of rank verdure was here, thought Theos! ... it was as though Nature, grown tired of floral beauty, had, in a sudden malevolent mood, purposely torn and blurred the fair green frondage and twisted every bud awry!  Great, jagged leaves covered with prickles and stained all over with blotches as of spilt poison, . . thick brown stems glistening with slimy moisture and coiled up like the sleeping bodies of snakes, . . masses of purple and blue fungi, . . and blossoms seemingly of the orchid species, some like fleshy tongues, others like the waxen yellow fingers of a dead hand, protruded spectrally through the matted foliage,—­while all manner of strange, overpowering odors increased the swooning oppressiveness of the sultry, languorous air.

This uncouth botanical garden was apparently roofed in by a lofty glass dome, decorated with hangings of watery-green silk, but the grotesque trees and plants grew to so enormous a height that it was impossible to tell which were the falling draperies and which the straggling leaves.  Curious birds flew hither and thither, voiceless creatures, scarlet and amber winged; a huge gilded brazier stood in one corner from whence ascended the constant smoke of burning incense, and there were rose-shaded lamps all about, that shed a subdued mysterious lustre on the scene, and bestowed a pale glitter on a few fantastic clumps of arums and nodding lotus-flowers that lazily lifted themselves out of a greenish pool of stagnant water sunk deeply in on one side of the marble flooring.  Theos, holding Sah-luma’s arm, stepped eagerly across the threshold; he was brimful of expectation:  . . and what mattered it to him whether the weed-like things that grew in this strange pavilion were pure or poisonous, provided he might look once more upon the witching face that long ago had so sweetly enticed him to his ruin! ...  Stay! what was he thinking of?  Long ago?  Nay, that was impossible,—­since he had only seen the Priestess Lysia for the first time that very morning!  How piteously perplexing it was to be thus tormented with these indistinct ideas!—­these half-formed notions of previous intimate acquaintance with persons and places he never could have known before!

All at once he drew back with a startled exclamation; an enormous tigress, sleek and jewel-eyed, bounded up from beneath a tangled mass of red and yellow creepers and advanced toward him with a low savage snarl.

“Peace, Aizif, peace;” said Sah-luma, carelessly patting the animal’s head.  “Thou art wont to be wiser in distinguishing ’twixt thy friends and foes.”  Then turning to Theos he added—­“She is harmless as a kitten, this poor Aizif!  Call her, good Theos, she will come to thy hand—­see!” and he smiled, as Theos, not to be outdone by his companion in physical courage, bent forward and stroked the cruel-looking