Repeating the sign of asseveration, the Dorado began: “Great and mighty Hirach, thou knowest that the gloom of the tomb is but the cradle of the sun. Before thee lies a pure, unsullied soul. “Orondo had the three cardinal virtues of piety, because he loved his Creator, loved virtue, and loved man. He gave bread to the hungry, water to the thirsty, garments to the naked. He who perceives him says he comes in peace. “May he enter into rest, praised; may he go out, beloved—for there is no more fault or evil in him. Save him; protect him; for his mouth is clean and his hands are pure. He was free from the oppression of the widow and the fatherless. “There was not by his fault either a fearful, or poor, or suffering or wretched one. He did not cause any one to weep.[22] He—” Rahula who had been growing more and more excited, rushed to Yermah’s side, and throwing her hands up wildly, cried out: “Hirach, thou who art mirrored in truth, palsy the tongue departing from thy formula! Orondo merits not an honored place in the Vale of Peace. The fishes yearn for his body. He lived not in truth, nor walked in the ways acceptable to the gods of magic mystery.” What more she would have said was drowned in a chorus of protest from the warrior-priests. The mourners added their supplications, and the priestesses murmured: “Om—ah! Om—ah! Om—ah!” Without noticing the interruption, Yermah completed his sentence. “Orondo did no evil. Nothing can be produced against him. He committed no violence, nor did he torment any heart. No one was by him treacherously slain.” “Hear him, O just powers! This man stands here and claims to be a vehicle for truth! How darest thou say that Orondo caused no man to be treacherously killed? “On both thy heads lie the curse of Alcamayn’s death. Robbed of his own by Orondo, and done to death by thee! “Thou art a mighty representative in the Hall of the Two Truths. Hear me, Yermah!—A mother’s curse is on thee! Thou art a doomed man!” “A mother’s curse!” exclaimed Yermah, in a whisper, sharing the consternation around him. A curse in the time of the Dorado was a thing of fearful import. The intemperance of her speech showed the uncontrollable rage of Rahula. “Yes,” she screamed,—“a mother’s curse! Alcamayn was my first and only born. Oh, there is no need of thy horrid looks! He never knew the relationship. Because of thy spiritual father, Akaza, thou hast a heritage of my hate. But for him I should have claimed my son.” Seeming to realize that temper had carried her too far, Rahula tried to repair what she had already said. Setos made a threatening gesture toward her, while every one looked at his neighbor, and said in an undertone: “She is a black magician. Akaza was obliged to take her child away from her.”