In the right hand of the Dorado was a lotus-headed scepter, an emblem of religious dominion; while in his left hand was a sword constructed in the form of a cross, with three pommels, or two crescents for guards. It had been newly consecrated by being thrust into a fire made of laurel and cypress woods, after which it was wiped and polished with the ashes and wrapped in a linen cloth. Behind the Dorado were one hundred youths, dressed to represent the four seasons; and after them came Imos, the high-priest, in green robes and tiara, borne on a litter by twelve priests, representing the sun in one of its zodiacal houses. Following, walked the Virgin of the Sun, Oahspe, who was to be offered up in sacrifice, as a solemn atonement for the people. This observance did not involve the horrible rites of later superstition, because she did not represent death to the physical, but death of transgression and new birth into righteousness. Back of her were one hundred vestals, dressed in white and crowned with myrtle. After them came boys and girls to the number of three hundred and sixty-five, each representing the sun and moon in their daily journey. Last were five hundred warrior-priests clad in black, with white crosses on their backs and breasts. The procession wound slowly around the serpentine avenue, and up the winding path to the temple, the priests chanting a hymn as they walked. Filing in, they stood ranged in rows on each side of the hall, and in the gray morning light their voices mingled with melodious strains of harps, flutes and lyres. The music rose grandly, floating through the dim aisles and out into the crowded spaces before the entrance. There were no lights on the altars, and the congregation moved like specters in the semi-darkness. Imos knelt in the center before the veil which enclosed the figure of the ever-youthful Virgin. On his right side knelt Yermah, and on his left was Oahspe. A hush fell over the people, the music ceased and all waited with bated breath to see if Divine help would be vouchsafed them. Suddenly, through a rift in the clouds, shone a resplendent sun-ray, which flooded the figures and the statue with a golden light. The tense, strained, fearful looks relaxed, and a long sigh of relief escaped their lips, while an electric thrill ran through the crowd, and many of them wept unrestrainedly. The gates of the enclosure swung open, and Imos stood within, facing the sun. Then Yermah took Oahspe by the hand, and led her to Imos, who made a sign of hierarchal blessing and poured a few drops of olive oil over her hair. The high-priest stepped back, and, placing his right hand over his heart, held his left up to the figure of Maia, the Cosmic Virgin, and proclaimed in a loud voice: “It is consummated!” There was a moment’s silence. The sunshine faded from the golden hair of Oahspe, and a light, made by no mortal hands, flickered around the statue, illuminating the whole niche.