“Prithee, trouble not thyself, most eminent Zel!” he answered nonchalantly ...  “I will answer for my friend’s discretion!  Thou dost mistake his temperament,—­he is a budding poet, and utters many a disconnected thought which hath no meaning save to his own fancy-swarming brain,—­he saw the frantic Khosrul die, and the picture hath impressed him for the moment—­nothing more!  I pledge my word for his demurest prudence at the Service to-night—­I would not have him absent for the world, ... ’twere pity he should miss the splendor of a scene which doubtless hath been admirably contrived, by priestly art and skill, to play upon the passions of the multitude.  Tell me, good Zel, what is the name of the self-offered Victim?”

The Priest flashed a strangely malevolent glance at him.

“’Tis not to be divulged,” he replied curtly—­“The virgin is no longer counted among the living ... she is as one already departed—­the name she bore hath been erased from the city registers, and she wears instead the prouder title of ’Bride of the Sun and Nagaya.’  Restrain thy curiosity until night hath fallen,—­it may be that thou, who hast a wide acquaintance among fair maidens, wilt recognize her countenance.”

“Nay, I trust I know her not”—­said Sah-luma carelessly—­“For, though all women die for me when once their beauty fades, still am I loth to see them perish ere their prime.

“Yet many are doomed to perish so”—­rejoined the Priest impassively—­“Men as well as women,—­and methinks those who are best beloved of the gods are chosen first to die.  Death is not difficult, ... but to live long enough for life to lose all savor, and love all charm, ... this is a bitterness that comes with years and cannot be consoled.”

And retreating slowly toward the door, he paused as he had previously done on the threshold.

“Farewell, Sah-luma!” he said ...  “Beware that nothing hinders thee from the fulfillment of thy promise! ... and let thy homage to the Holy Maid be reverent at the parting of the Silver Veil!”

He waited, but Sah-luma made no answer—­he therefore raised his staff and described a circle with it in the same solemn fashion that had distinguished his entrance.

“By the coming-forth of the Moon through the ways of Darkness, . . by the shining of Stars, . . by the Sleeping Sun and the silence of Night, . . by the All-Seeing Eye of Raphon and the Wisdom of Nagaya may the protection of the gods abide in this house forever!”

As he pronounced these words he noiselessly departed, without any salutation whatever to Sah-luma, who heaved a sigh of relief when he had gone, and, rising from his couch came and placed one hand affectionately on Theos’s shoulder.