“So that is done with,” she went on with a little stamp of indignation, “as soon you will be also, who, had you not crossed and doubted me, might have lived on for untold time and become one of the masters of the world, as I am.”

Here she paused, choked, I think, with her almost childish anger, and because I could not help it, I said,

“Such place and power, if they be yours, Ayesha, do not seem to bring you much reward.  If I were a master of the world I do not think that I should choose to dwell unchangingly among savages who eat men and in a pile of ruins.  But perhaps the curses of Aphrodite and of Isis are stronger masters still?” and I paused inquiringly.

This bold argument—­for now I see that it was bold—­seemed to astonish and even bewilder my wonderful companion.

“You have more wisdom than I thought,” she said reflectively, “who have come to understand that no one is really lord of anything, since above there is always a more powerful lord who withers all his pomp and pride to nothingness, even as the great kings learned in olden days, and I, who am higher than they are, am learning now.  Hearken.  Troubles beset me wherein I would have your help and that of your companions, for which I will pay each of you the fee that he desires.  The brooding white man who is with you shall free his daughter and unharmed; though that he will be unharmed I do not promise.  The black savage captain shall fight his fill and gain the glory that he seeks, also something that he seeks still more.  The little yellow man asks nothing save to be with his master like a dog and to satisfy at once his stomach and his apish curiosity.  You, Allan, shall see those dead over whom you brood at night, though the other guerdon that you might have won is now passed from your reach because you mock me in your heart.”

“What must we do to gain these things?” I asked.  “How can we humble creatures help one who is all powerful and who has gathered in her breast the infinite knowledge of two thousand years?”

“You must make war under my banner and rid me of my foes.  As for the reason, listen to the end of my tale and you shall learn.”

I reflected that it was a marvellous thing that this queen who claimed supernatural powers should need our help in a war, but thinking it wiser to keep my meditations to myself, said nothing.  As a matter of fact I might just as well have spoken, since as usual she read my thoughts.

“You are thinking that it is strange, Allan, that I, the Mighty and Undying, should seek your aid in some petty tribal battle, and so it would be were my foes but common savages.  But they are more; they are men protected by the ancient god of this immemorial city of Kor, a great god in his day whose spirit still haunts these ruins and whose strength still protects the worshippers who cling to him and practise his unholy rites of human sacrifice.”

“How was this god named?” I asked.