“The battle went ill for some,” Ayesha answered, “and I came not through the hurricane, but on its wings.  Tell me now, what has befallen thee since we parted?”

“Trapped, overpowered, bound, brought here, told that I must write to thee and stop thy advance, or die—­refused, of course, and then——­” and he glanced at the dead body on the floor.

“And then?” repeated Ayesha.

“Then that fearful tempest, which seemed to drive me mad.  Oh! if thou couldst have heard the wind howling round these battlements, tearing off their stones as though they were dry leaves; if thou hadst seen the lightnings falling thick and fast as rain——­”

“They were my messengers.  I sent them to save thee,” said Ayesha simply.

Leo stared at her, making no comment, but after a pause, as though he were thinking the matter over, he went on—­“Atene said as much, but I did not believe her.  I thought the end of the world had come, that was all.  Well, she returned just now more mad even than I was, and told me that her people were destroyed and that she could not fight against the strength of hell, but that she could send me thither, and took a knife to kill me.

“I said, ‘Kill on,’ for I knew that wherever I went thou wouldst follow, and I was sick with the loss of blood from some hurt I had in that struggle, and weary of it all.  So I shut my eyes waiting for the stroke, but instead I felt her lips pressed upon my forehead, and heard her say—­“’Nay, I will not do it.  Fare thee well; fulfil thou thine own destiny, as I fulfil mine.  For this cast the dice have fallen against me; elsewhere it may be otherwise.  I go to load them if I may.’

“I opened my eyes and looked.  There Atene stood, a glass in her hand—­see, it lies beside her.

“‘Defeated, yet I win,’ she cried, ’for I do but pass before thee to prepare the path that thou shalt tread, and to make ready thy place in the Under-world.  Till we meet again I pledge thee, for I am destroyed.  Ayesha’s horsemen are in my streets, and, clothed in lightnings at their head, rides Ayesha’s avenging self.’

“So she drank, and fell dead—­but now.  Look, her breast still quivers.  Afterwards, that old man would have murdered me, for, being roped, I could not resist him, but the door burst in and thou camest.  Spare him, he is of her blood, and he loved her.”

Then Leo sank back into the chair where we had discovered him bound, and seemed to fall into a kind of torpor, for of a sudden he grew to look like an old man.

“Thou art sick,” said Ayesha anxiously.  “Oros, thy medicine, the draught I bade thee bring!  Be swift, I say.”

The priest bowed, and from some pocket in his ample robe produced a phial which he opened and gave to Leo, saying—­“Drink, my lord; this stuff will give thee back thy health, for it is strong.”

“The stronger the better,” answered Leo, rousing himself, and with something like his old, cheerful laugh.  “I am thirsty who have touched nothing since last night, and have fought hard and been carried far, yes—­and lived through that hellish storm.”