The High Priest sensed the crowd's conviction, and sensed them turning against him. His beady eyes glanced around nervously. His lips a thin line, he called to his second ranking priest in a tense whisper, and, when the other came to him, muttered in his ear: "'Tis the stranger, hiding in the secret chamber, who does this! He has overcome our brother there, and now controls the levers! And Taia knows it; and if she reveals it to the people our hold will be broken! She must be killed!" "Yes! But how? We must be quick!" Hrihor's crafty face set cruelly. "I know a way. Watch thou...." He strode to the fore of the altar and flung his hands high. A shrill shout from his thin lips cut the uneasy murmuring short. "Hearken! Aten will not torture His own priestess! He will not maim those who have sworn their lives to Him!" The silent crowd waited for his next words. He screamed savagely. "His High Priest must perform the rite! Aten has appointed me to be His instrument of vengeance!" A gleam of unholy exultation was in his narrowed eyes. His face worked: he thrust a hand inside his ornate ceremonial vestment. "By Divine Will," he cried, "this knife in my hand is the knife in the God's hand!" And he whipped a long blade from the robe. Never before had such a ceremony been held in the Temple of Aten, the Sun God. Never before had the hand of the god paused above the living sacrifice and deliberately risen again without tasting blood. It was miracle upon miracle; half-bewildered, Pharaoh Shabako and the herd of common people alike waited for what would come next, their High Priest's savage words somewhat reassuring them that all was correct. They saw him clench his dagger tightly and with slow steps advance to the side of the helpless girl. Glaring down at her, he swung the blade high. It poised directly over her heart. It would not torture her, Taia knew: it was death that she read in the High Priest's eyes. She closed her own, and thought of the stranger; she breathed a silent prayer to him. She waited. "In Aten's name!" screamed Hrihor, and brought the dagger down. * * * * * At that second the sharp roar of a sudden explosion thundered through the Temple, and the startled worshippers saw, slowly trickling from the right eye of Aten, a curling streamer of gray smoke. They did not know what had happened. And not until, after a moment of fearful silence, they saw the expression on Hrihor's face change to great surprise, and saw his right hand relax and drop the dagger to the floor, did they comprehend that he had been struck down. He clutched at his side, staggered, twisted round, and fell full length before the feet of the god whose representative he was. A frightened woman close to the altar saw a dark red stain on his robe, and a scream from her lips pierced out: "He is dead! Killed by Aten--whose eyes have looked death! Oh!"