When they at last emerged the very sunlight seemed polluted, and the fresh air laden with pestilence. As they made their way to the gate, Thoth spoke to the hideous giantess, and she showed the same surprise as her captives. To her Thoth spoke in a tongue which Daphne understood, and told her that she was to be replaced, and that until another guardian came, she was to leave the women unmolested. The ogress ventured to remonstrate, but at the first sentence Thoth sternly cried, “Darest thou question me?” and touched her hand with the end of his golden staff, whereupon the monster fell as one dead. As if to excuse himself, Thoth said— “There is no further use for her: it is better thus.” Then said Daphne, “Is she dead?” “Yes,” he replied,—“dead beyond all aid; and to all her kind will I do likewise.” They passed through the gate, and as before, every one they saw treated Thoth with the utmost respect and reverence. But Daphne was silent, weary, and despondent. The horrors she had witnessed seemed to pervade every nook and cranny of the place. Helplessly she walked by the side of Thoth, and the salutations of her little servants when she entered her dwelling seemed to be as unreal and distant as if they came from the sky. She felt for the first time her reason totter—she had not strength sufficient to wish to flee from the place, or to rush upon her death. At last she wept passionately, and sank into a troubled sleep. CHAPTER X. THE MYSTERY OF THE WOMEN RESOLVED. For some days Daphne was utterly prostrated with the scenes which she had been compelled to witness. The present was joyless, the future hopeless. If she requested to be sent back to Greece, she knew not if the whole land would not be desolate; and, worse than all, she again distrusted Thoth, and doubted if he would keep his promise. She began to fear that she was reserved for some dreadful fate. Thoth neither came to see her nor sent any message, but, as before, left the seeds of hope to spring up in quietness. And as the days passed by, slowly and gradually the youth and health of Daphne began to dissipate the gloomy memories, and wonder and love of life took the place of heaviness of spirit and fear of death. To her own surprise she again formed the wish to see Thoth, and at times almost believed that he would in some wonderful manner convert the scenes which she had witnessed into an unreal dream. But the belief was momentary and evanescent, and she shuddered as she thought of the plight of the miserable women and their deplorable state. Alive they were certainly, and living a life worse than death. Hope rose again, however, when she thought of the apparent kindness of Thoth, and then she tried to imagine that he was to be the saviour of the women who had been cruelly ill-treated by others. Surely, she thought, he himself can never have been guilty of such crimes.