For one moment Theos remained stupefied by the sheer horror of the catastrophe,—­then, recalling his bewildered wits to his aid, he peered anxiously through the archway where he rested, . . there seemed to be a dim red glow at the end of the downward-leading steps, as well as a dusky azure tint, like a patch of midnight sky.  The Temple was now nothing but a hissing shrieking pyramid of flames,—­the hot and blinding glare was almost too intense for his eyes to endure,—­yet so fascinated was he by the sublime terror and grandeur of the spectacle, that he could scarcely make up his mind to turn away from it!  The thought of Sah-luma, however, gave the needful spur to his flagging energies, and without pausing to consider where he might be going, he slowly and hesitatingly descended the steps before him, and presently reached a sort of small open court paved with black marble.  Here he tenderly laid his burden down,—­a burden grown weightier with each moment of its bearing,—­and letting his aching arms drop listlessly at his sides, he looked up dreamily,—­not all at once comprehending the cause of the vast lurid light that crimsoned the air like a wide aurora borealis everywhere about him, . . then,—­as the truth suddenly flashed on his mind, he uttered a loud, irrepressible cry of amazement and awe!

Far as his gaze could see,—­east, west, north, south, the whole city of Al-Kyris was in flames!—­and the burning Temple of Nagaya was but a mere spark in the enormous breadth of the general conflagration!  Palaces, domes, towers, and spires were tottering to red destruction, . . fire...fire everywhere! ... nothing but fire,—­save when a furious gust of scorching wind blew aside the masses of cindery smoke, and showed glimpses of sky and the changeless shining of a few cold quiet stars.  He cast one desperate glance from earth to heaven, . . how was it possible to escape from this kindling furnace of utter annihilation! ...  Where all were manifestly doomed, how could he expect to be saved!  And moreover, if Sah-luma was indeed dead, what remained for him but to die also!

* * * * * * *

Calming the frenzy of his thoughts by a strong effort, he began to vaguely wonder why and how it happened that the place where he now was, . . this small and insignificant court,—­had so far escaped the fire, and was as cool and sombre as a sacred tomb set apart for some hero, ... or Poet?  Poet!—­The word acted as a stimulant to his tired struggling brain, and he all at once remembered what Sah-luma had said to him at their first meeting:  “There is but one Poet in Al-Kyris, and I am he!”

O true, true!  Only one Poet! ...  Only one glory of the great city, that now served him as funeral pyre!—­only one name worth remembering in all its perishing history.. the name of Sah-luma!  Sah-luma, the beautiful, the gifted, the famous, the beloved, . . he was dead!  This thought, in its absorbing painfulness, straightway drove out all others,—­and Theos, who had carried his comrade’s corpse bravely and unshrinkingly through a fiery vortex of imminent peril, now sank on his knees all desolate and unnerved, his hot tears dropping fast on that fair, still, white face that he knew would never flush to the warmth of life again!