"Friend Nir-jalis," she said, . . how tuneful were her accents, . . how chilly sweet her smile! ... "Methinks thou art grown altogether too wise for this world! ... 'tis pity thou shouldest continue to linger in so narrow and incomplete a sphere! ... Depart hence therefore! ... I shall frely excuse thine absence, since THY HOUR HAS COME! ..." And, taking from the table at her side a tall crystal chalice fashioned in the form of a lily set on a golden stem, she held it up toward him. Starting wildly from his couch he looked at her, as though doubting whether he had heard her words aright, . . a strong shudder shook him from head to foot, . . his hands clenched themselves convulsively together,--and then slowly, slowly, he staggered to his feet and stood upright. He was suddenly but effectually sobered--the flush of intoxication died off his cheeks--and his eyes grew strained and piteous. Theos, watching him in wonder and fear, saw his broad chest heave with the rapid-drawn gasping of his breath, ..he advanced a step or two--then all at once stretched out his hands in imploring agony. "Lysia!" he murmured huskily. "Lysia! ... pardon! ... spare me! ... For the sake of past love have pity!" At this Sah-luma sprang up from his lounging posture on the dais, his hand on the hilt of his dagger, his whole face flaming with wrath. "By my soul!" he cried, "what doth this fellow prate of? ... Past love? ... Thou profane boaster! ... how darest thou speak of love to the Priestess of the Faith?" Nir-jalis heeded him not. His eyes were fixed on Lysia, like the eyes of a tortured animal who vainly seeks for mercy at the hand of its destroyer. Step by step he came hesitatingly to the foot of her throne, . . and it was then that Theos perceived rear at hand a personage he immediately recognized,--the black scarlet-clad slave Gazia, who had brought Lysia's message to Sah-luma that same afternoon. He had made his appearance now so swiftly and silently, that it was impossible to tell where he had come from,--and he stood close to Nir-jalis, his muscular firms folded tightly across his chest, and his hideous mouth contorted into a grin of cruel amusement and expectancy. Absolute quiet reigned within the magnificent banquet hall, . . the music had ceased,--and not a sound could be heard, save the delicate murmur of the wind outside swaying the water-lilies on the moonlit lake. Every one's attention was centred on the unhappy young man, who with lifted head and rigidly clasped hands, faced Lysia as a criminal faces a judge, . . Lysia, whose dazzling smile beamed upon him with the brightness of summer sunbeams,--Lysia, whose exquisite voice lost none of its richness as she spoke his doom.