Atene spoke to Simbri.  What she said we could not hear, for she whispered, but she appeared to be arguing with him and persuading him to some course of which he strongly disapproved.  Then suddenly both of them put their horses at the water and rode to us through the shallows.  Reaching the island, they dismounted, and we stood staring at each other.  The old man seemed very weary in body and oppressed in mind, but the Khania was strong and beautiful as ever, nor had passion and fatigue left any trace upon her inscrutable face.  It was she who broke the silence, saying—­“You have ridden fast and far since last we met, my guests, and left an evil token to mark the path you took.  Yonder among the rocks one lies dead.  Say, how came he to his end, who has no wound upon him?”

“By these,” answered Leo, stretching out his hands.

“I knew it,” she answered, “and I blame you not, for fate decreed that death for him, and now it is fulfilled.  Still, there are those to whom you must answer for his blood, and I only can protect you from them.”

“Or betray me to them,” said Leo.  “Khania, what do you seek?”

“That answer which you should have given me this twelve hours gone.  Remember, before you speak, that I alone can save your life—­aye, and will do it and clothe you with that dead madman’s crown and mantle.”

“You shall have your answer on yonder Mountain,” said Leo, pointing to the peak above us, “where I seek mine.”

She paled a little and replied, “To find that it is death, for, as I have told you, the place is guarded by savage folk who know no pity.”

“So be it.  Then Death is the answer that we seek.  Come, Horace, let us go to meet him.”

“I swear to you,” she broke in, “that there dwells not the woman of your dreams.  I am that woman, yes, even I, as you are the man of mine.”

“Then, lady, prove it yonder upon the Mountain,” Leo answered.

“There dwells there no woman,” Atene went on hurriedly, “nothing dwells there.  It is the home of fire and—­a Voice.”

“What voice?”

“The Voice of the Oracle that speaks from the fire.  The Voice of a Spirit whom no man has ever seen, or shall see.”

“Come, Horace,” said Leo, and he moved towards the horse.

“Men,” broke in the old Shaman, “would you rush upon your doom?  Listen; I have visited yonder haunted place, for it was I who according to custom brought thither the body of the Khan Atene’s father for burial, and I warn you to set no foot within its temples.”

“Which your mistress said that we should never reach,” I commented, but Leo only answered—­“We thank you for your warning,” and added, “Horace, watch them while I saddle the horse, lest they do us a mischief.”