when he bade
me farewell as I set out twenty years before for my vice-royalty in
Yucatan. But the air of the hall was different to what it had been in
those old days. Then it was pure and sweet. Now it was heavy with some
scent, and I found it languid and oppressive.

"My minister," said the Empress, "I acquit you of intentional insult;
but I think the colonial air has made you a very simple man. Such an
obeisance as you showed to that mountain not a minute since has not been
made since I was sent to reign over this kingdom."

"Your Majesty," I said, "I am a member of the Priests' Clan and was
brought up in their tenets. I have been taught, before entering a house,
to thank the Gods, and more especially our Lord the Sun, for the good
air that He and They have provided. It has been my fate more than once
to be chased by streams of fire and stinking air amongst the mountains
during one of their sudden boils, and so I can say the prescribed prayer
upon this matter straight from my heart."

"Circumstances have changed since you left Atlantis," said Phorenice,
"and when thanks are given now, they are not thrown at those old Gods."

I saw her meaning, and almost started at the impiety of it. If this was
to be the new rule of things, I would have no hand in it. Fate might
deal with me as it chose. To serve truly a reigning monarch, that I was
prepared for; but to palter with sacrilege, and accept a swineherd's
daughter as a God, who should receive prayers and obeisances, revolted
my manhood. So I invited a crisis.

"Phorenice," I said, "I have been a priest from my childhood up,
revering the Gods, and growing intimate with their mysteries. Till I
find for myself that those old things are false, I must stand by that
allegiance, and if there is a cost for this faithfulness I must pay it."

She looked at me with a slow smile. "You are a strong man, Deucalion,"
she said.

I bowed.

"I have heard others as stubborn," she said, "but they were converted."
She shook out the ruddy bunches of her hair, and stood so that the light
of the burning earth-breath might fall on the loveliness of her face and
form. "I have found it as easy to convert the stubborn as to burn them.
Indeed, there has been little talk of burning. They have all rushed to
conversion, whether I would or no. But it seems that my poor looks and
tongue are wanting in charm to-day."

"Phorenice is Empress," I said stolidly, "and I am her servant.
To-morrow, if