“He had come now to his present lifetime. This was the temple that was burnt down while he was quite a young man. In another moment what he expected happened. The building before him vanished, and magically, in its place, stood the new one, the last work of his hands.... Now at last he understood how, for hundreds of years, in many different lives and with long intervals between them, he had been making temples for Diana—for the true, beautiful Diana. And her worship and honour had been stolen from her by the hideous black monster now enthroned in this last and most magnificent temple!... Dinocrates was full of misery at the thought, and full also of confusion about what had recently happened. Had he really tried to set fire to the false goddess? Had he really held up the statue of the true one? What was real in all that was happening to him, and what was not? He felt wretched and afraid. Was he mad, or dreaming? “Such a heavy drowsiness came over him that he was obliged to close his eyes, and sink down upon one of the marble benches in the outer courtyard of the temple where now he found himself standing. “And then, though he could not lift his tired eyelids, he knew that some wonderful presence was near him. Sweet scents were in the air; faintly from far away he heard the music of a horn, and then a beautiful voice spoke close to his ear: “‘Fear not, Dinocrates,’ he heard, ‘for thou hast ever been a worshipper of all the truth and beauty thou hast known. Thou hast striven to place me in a seat of honour, and thy work has not been in vain. The day will come when another god shall reign in that last temple, the work of thy hands—a merciful god who shall triumph over the false Diana worshipped by the Ephesians. And I, too, the Diana thou hast adored, shall be no more a goddess worshipped by men. But the thoughts I have given to men shall remain, and the beauty thou hast seen in me shall remain also. And because thou hast been my faithful worshipper I will give thee, as I have given thee once before, a happy passing from this to another life.’ “The voice ceased, and, smiling with perfect happiness, Dinocrates gave a long sigh, and then lay still. “His friends, finding him next morning in his bed by the open window, thought he was asleep, and it was a long time before they knew he would not wake again. “‘His last dreams were happy ones,’ they said as they gathered round him, ‘for, see, he smiles as though in great content.’” Rachel and Diana both together gave a little sigh. “Then he didn’t _really_ try to burn the black image?” asked Rachel. “He was really in his own room all the time?” [Illustration] “I don’t know,” said Mr. Sheston, slowly. “It was such a magic night that I scarcely know what was ‘_real_,’ as you say, and what was dream.” “Oh, can’t we see the temple just once more,” begged Diana. “It will be even more lovely to see it, now we know all about Dinocrates!”