he had substituted for that of the Prophet.

The chief of the taricheutes asked him whether he had opened the body of
the dead priest.

Pinem stammered out "Yes." Whether this was his heart? The old man nodded
affirmatively.

The taricheutes looked at each other, whispered together; then one of
them went away, and returned soon with the inspector of victims from the
temple of Anion, whom he had found in the house of the weaver, and the
chief of the kolchytes.

"Show me the heart," said the superintendent of the sacrifices as he
approached the vase. "I can decide in the dark if you have seen rightly.
I examine a hundred animals every day. Give it here!--By all the Gods of
Heaven and Hell that is the heart of a ram!"

"It was found in the breast of Rui," said one of the taricheutes
decisively. "It was opened yesterday in the presence of us all by this
old paraschites."

"It is extraordinary," said the priest of Anion. "And incredible. But
perhaps an exchange was effected.--Did you slaughter any victims here
yesterday or--?"

"We are purifying ourselves," the chief of the kolchytes interrupted, for
the great festival of the valley, and for ten days no beast can have been
killed here for food; besides, the stables and slaughterhouses are a long
way from this, on the other side of the linen-factories."

"It is strange!" replied the priest. "Preserve this heart carefully,
kolchytes: or, better still, let it be enclosed in a case. We will take
it over to the chief prophet of Anion. It would seem that some miracle
has happened."

"The heart belongs to the Necropolis," answered the chief kolchytes, "and
it would therefore be more fitting if we took it to the chief priest of
the temple of Seti, Ameni."

"You command here!" said the other. "Let us go." In a few minutes the
priest of Anion and the chief of the kolchytes were being carried towards
the valley in their litters. A taricheut followed them, who sat on a seat
between two asses, and carefully carried a casket of ivory, in which
reposed the ram's heart.

The old paraschites watched the priests disappear behind the tamarisk
bushes. He longed to run after them, and tell them everything.

His conscience quaked with self reproach, and if his sluggish
intelligence did not enable him to take in at a glance all the results
that his deed might entail, he still could guess that he had sown a seed
whence deceit of every kind must grow. He felt as if he had fallen
alto