"Thou art mad!" she said, a quiver of alarm in her voice ... "Mad as Khosrul, and all his evil-croaking brethren! I offer thee Love,--and thou pratest of death,--life is here in all the fulness of the now, for thy delight, and thou ravest of an immortal Hereafter which is not, and can never be! Why talk thus wildly? ... why gaze on me with so distraught a countenance? But an hour agone, thou wert the model of a cold discretion and quiet valor,--thus I had judged thee worthy of my favor--favor sought by many, and granted to few, . . but an thou dost wander amid such chaotic and unreasoning fancies, thou canst not serve me,--nor therefore canst thou win the reward that would otherwise have awaited thee."... Here she paused,--a questioning, keen under-glance flashed from beneath her dark lashes, . . he, however, with pained, wistful eyes raised steadfastly to hers, gave no sign of apology or contrition for the disconnected strangeness of his recent outburst. Only he became gradually conscious of an inward, growing calm,--as though the Divine Voice that had once soothed the angry waves of Galilee were now hushing his turbulent emotions with a soft "Peace be still!" She watched him closely, . .and all at once apparently rendered impatient by his impassive attitude, she came coaxingly toward him, and laid one soft hand on his shoulder. "Canst thou not be happy, Theos?" she whispered gently--"Happy as other men are, when loved as thou art loved?" His upturned gaze rested on the glittering serpents' heads that crowned her dusky tresses,--then on the great Eye that stared watchfully between her white breasts. A strong tremor shook him, and he sighed. "Happy as other men are, when they love and are deceived in love!"--he said.. "Yes, even so, Lysia,--I can be happy!" She threw one arm about him. "Thou shalt not be deceived"--she murmured quickly,--"Thou shalt be honored above the noblest in the realm, . . thy dearest hopes shall be fulfilled, . . thy utmost desires shall be granted, . . riches, power, fame,--all shall be thine,--IF THOU WILT DO MY BIDDING!" She uttered the last words with slow and meaning emphasis. He met her eager, burning looks quietly, almost coldly,--the curious numb apathy of his spirit increased, and when he spoke, his voice was low and faint like the voice of one who speaks unconsciously in his sleep. "What canst thou ask that I will not grant?" he said listlessly.. "Is it not as it was in the old time,--thou to command, and I to obey? ... Speak, fair Queen!--how can I serve thee?" Her answer came, swift and fierce as the hiss of a snake: "KILL SAH-LUMA!"