“Many lives to take for one man’s safety,” Leo said solemnly, as though the thought pained him.

“Had they been millions and not thousands, I would have spent them every one.  On my head be their deaths, not on thine.  Or rather on hers,” and she pointed to the dead Atene.  “Yes, on hers who made this war.  At least she should thank me who have sent so royal a host to guard her through the darkness.”

“Yet it is terrible,” said Leo, “to think of thee, beloved, red to the hair with slaughter.”

“What reck I?” she answered with a splendid pride.  “Let their blood suffice to wash the stain of thy blood from off these cruel hands that once did murder thee.”

“Who am I that I should blame thee?” Leo went on as though arguing with himself, “I who but yesterday killed two men—­to save myself from treachery.”

“Speak not of it,” she exclaimed in cold rage.  “I saw the place and, Holly, thou knowest how I swore that a hundred lives should pay for every drop of that dear blood of thine, and I, who lie not, have kept the oath.  Look now on that man who stands yonder struck by my will to stone, dead yet living, and say again what was he about to do to thee when I entered here?”

“To take vengeance on me for the doom of his queen and of her armies,” answered Leo, “and Ayesha, how knowest thou that a Power higher than thine own will not demand it yet?”

As he spoke a pale shadow flickered on Leo’s face, such a shadow as might fall from Death’s advancing wing, and in the fixed eyes of the Shaman there shone a stony smile.

For a moment terror seemed to take Ayesha, then it was gone as quickly as it came.

“Nay,” she said.  “I ordain that it shall not be, and save One who listeth not, what power reigns in this wide earth that dare defy my will?”

So she spoke, and as her words of awful pride—­for they were very awful—­rang round that stone-built chamber, a vision came to me—­Holly.

I saw illimitable space peopled with shining suns, and sunk in the infinite void above them one vast Countenance clad in a calm so terrific that at its aspect my spirit sank to nothingness.  Yes, and I knew that this was Destiny enthroned above the spheres.  Those lips moved and obedient worlds rushed upon their course.  They moved again and these rolling chariots of the heavens were turned or stayed, appeared or disappeared.  I knew also that against this calm Majesty the being, woman or spirit, at my side had dared to hurl her passion and her strength.  My soul reeled.  I was afraid.

The dread phantasm passed, and when my mind cleared again Ayesha was speaking in new, triumphant tones.

“Nay, nay,” she cried.  “Past is the night of dread; dawns the day of victory!  Look!” and she pointed through the window-places shattered by the hurricane, to the flaming town beneath, whence rose one continual wail of misery, the wail of women mourning their countless slain while the fire roared through their homes like some unchained and rejoicing demon.  “Look Leo on the smoke of the first sacrifice that I offer to thy royal state and listen to its music.  Perchance thou deemst it naught.  Why then I’ll give thee others.  Thou lovest war.  Good! we will go down to war and the rebellious cities of the earth shall be the torches of our march.”