completely foreign to it—­a look of savage determination bordering on positive cruelty.  In a moment I saw what was taking place in his mind.  The animal passions of the mere man were aroused—­the spiritual force was utterly forgotten.  The excitement of the contest was beginning to tell, and the desire of victory was dominant in the breast of him whose ideas were generally—­and should have been now—­ those of patient endurance and large generosity.  The fight grew closer, hotter, and more terrible.  Suddenly the Prince swerved aside and fell, and within a second Heliobas held him down, pressing one knee firmly against his chest.  From my point of observation I noted with alarm that little by little Ivan ceased his violent efforts to rise, and that he kept his eyes fixed on the overshadowing face of his foe with an unnatural and curious pertinacity.  I stepped forward.  Heliobas pressed his whole weight heavily down on the young man’s prostrate body, while with both hands he held him by the shoulders, and gazed with terrific meaning into his fast-paling countenance.  Ivan’s lips turned blue; his eyes appeared to start from their sockets; his throat rattled.  The spell that held me silent was broken; a flash of light, a flood of memory swept over my intelligence.  I knew that Heliobas was exciting the whole battery of his inner electric force, and that thus employed for the purposes of vengeance, it must infallibly cause death.  I found my speech at last.

“Heliobas!” I cried “Remember, remember Azul!  When Death lies like a gift in your hand, withhold it.  Withhold it, Heliobas; and give Life instead!”

He started at the sound of my voice, and looked up.  A strong shudder shook his frame.  Very slowly, very reluctantly, he relaxed his position; he rose from his kneeling posture on the Prince’s breast—­ he left him and stood upright.  Ivan at the same moment heaved a deep sigh, and closed his eyes, apparently insensible.

Gradually one by one the hard lines faded out of the face of Heliobas, and his old expression of soft and grave beneficence came back to it as graciously as sunlight after rain.  He turned to me, and bent his head in a sort of reverential salutation.

“I thank and bless you,” he said; “you reminded me in time!  Another moment and it would have been too late.  You have saved me.”

“Give him his life,” I said, pointing to Ivan.

“He has it,” returned Heliobas; “I have not taken it from him, thank God!  He provoked me; I regret it.  I should have been more patient with him.  He will revive immediately.  I leave him to your care.  In dealing with him, I ought to have remembered that human passion like his, unguided by spiritual knowledge, was to be met with pity and forbearance.  As it is, however, he is safe.  For me, I will go and pray for Zara’s pardon, and that of my wronged Azul.”

As he uttered the last words, he started, looked up, and smiled.