hing Lake of fire in which murderers,
heretics, false witnesses. . . .

What was that?

Had hell indeed yawned, and were the flames soaring up to the sky through
the riven shell of the earth? Had the firmament opened to pour living
fire and black fumes on the northern part of the city?

She started up in dismay, her eyes fixed on the terrible sight. The whole
sky seemed to be in flames; a fiery furnace, with dense smoke and myriads
of shooting sparks, filled the whole space between earth and heaven. A
devouring conflagration was apparently about to annihilate the town, the
river, the starry vault itself; the metal heralds which usually called
the faithful to church lifted up their voices; the quiet road at her feet
suddenly swarmed with thousands of people; shrieks, yells and frantic
commands came up from below, and in the confusion of tongues she could
distinguish the words "Governor's Palace"--"Arabs"--"Mukaukas"--"Orion"
--"fire"--"Put it out"--"Save it."

At this moment the old head-gardener called up to her from the
lotos-tank: "The palace is in flames! And in this drought--God
All-merciful save the town!"

Her knees gave way; she put out her hands with a faint cry to feel for
some support, and two arms were thrown about her-the arms which she so
lately had pushed away: her mother's: that mother who had bent over her
only child and inhaled death in a kiss on her plague-tainted hair.

CHAPTER XV.

The governor's palace, the pride and glory of Memphis, the magnificent
home of the oldest and noblest family of the land--the last house that
had given birth to a race of native Egyptians held worthy, even by the
Greeks, to represent the emperor and uphold the highest dignity in the
world--the very citadel of native life, lay in ashes; and just as a giant
of the woods crushes and destroys in its fall many plants of humbler
growth, so the burning of the great house destroyed hundreds of smaller
dwellings.

This night's work had torn the mast and rudder, and many a plank besides,
from that foundering vessel, the town of Memphis. It seemed indeed a
miracle that had saved the whole from being reduced to cinders; and for
this, next to God's providence, they might thank the black incendiary
himself and his Arabs. The crime was committed with cool and shrewd
foresight, and carried through to the end. During his visitation
throughout the rambling buildings Obada had looked out for spots that
might suit his purpose,