As soon as he was alone Yermah’s mind reverted to its normal condition, and he was entirely dispassionate in his reply. “I cannot comply with thy wishes, Cezardis,” he said. “Not that I dread the conflict inevitable with the overthrow of Setos. I have another and more difficult battle to fight.” “I have made oath not to return without thee, and I will not. The whole country is preparing to follow thee south, and thou art the only one capable of holding them back.” “Nothing can stay the exodus. It is the breaking up of old lines. A new dispensation is beginning, and the present order must pass forever.” “Wilt thou let me serve thee? I would have come with thee in the beginning, had I known.” Cezardis was aware that Yermah could not refuse to accept his offer. It was an old-time custom for one man to serve another, voluntarily, and the servant’s was the honored position. To serve sweetly in any capacity was the aspiration animating this entire dispensation. The Dorado smiled as he said: “Thou wilt be the last to make such an offer. The generations following will reverse our beliefs and practices. Go thou to Ben Hu Barabe, and tell him to give Hanabusa leave to stock his balsa with food and raiment for five men. See to it that there is plenty, for thou art of the company.” Yermah worked incessantly for several days making a llama of silver, as an emblem of suffering innocence. Its belly was a golden sunburst, and it was seated upon the back of an eagle, rescuing a rabbit from the fangs of a serpent. This represented the unequal conflict between good and evil; but the serpent being obliged to give up its prey, manifested the final triumph of goodness. There were eight altars in the temple; and, at sunset on the last day of his stay, Yermah placed the llama on the altar facing the east. Simultaneously with this act, Gautama headed a procession at the base of the pyramid, which slowly climbed to the top. The worshipers performed a sacrifice on each of the four terraces, and did not reach the temple until midnight. They found Yermah in the great, dark structure, intently watching the constellation of the Pleiades. As Alcyone approached the zenith he sprang forward with a glad cry, and vigorously swinging a copper hammer, made the sparks fly from a granite rock. The venerable Gautama held the cotton, and carefully nursed the sparks into a blaze. As the light streamed up toward the heavens, shouts of joy and triumph burst forth—for once more the children of men received a direct ray from the spiritual sun. Carriers with torches lighted at the blazing beacon ran in every direction, carrying the cheering element to every part of the country. Long before sunrise it was brightening the altars and hearthstones everywhere. Yermah sent up orisons from the eastern altar, and then took an affectionate farewell of the priests in attendance, but before beginning to descend he gazed long at the matchless scenery below.