hould you know me
more than another!" said the Voice--"Beauty is common to all in our
city--as common as health, because we obey the Divine laws of both."

She stretched out her hands appealingly.

"Oh, if I could only come to you now!" she murmured.

"Patience!" and the Voice grew softer--"There is something for you to
do in the world. You must lose a love before you find it!"

She drew a quick breath. What could these words mean?

"It is time for you now to turn homeward,"--went on the Voice--"You
must not be seen above this City at dawn. You would be attacked and
instantly destroyed, as having received a warning which you refused to
heed."

"Do you attack and destroy all strangers so?" she asked--"Is that your
rule?"

"It is our rule to keep away the mischief of the modern world"--replied
the Voice--"As well admit a pestilence as the men and women of to-day!"

"I am a woman of to-day,"--said Morgana.

"No, you are not,--you are a woman of the future!" and the Voice was
grave and insistent--"You are one of the new race. At the appointed
hour you will take your part with us in the new world?"

"When will be that hour?"

There was a pause. Then, with an exceeding sweetness and solemnity the
Voice replied--

"If He will that we tarry till He come, what is that to thee?"

A sense of great awe swept over her, oppressive and humiliating. She
looked once more through her cabin window at the city spread out below,
and saw that some of the lights were being extinguished in the taller
buildings and on the bridges which connected streets and avenues in a
network of architectural beauty.

The Voice spoke again--

"We are releasing you from the barrier. You are free to depart."

She sighed.

"I have no wish to go!" she said.

"You must!" The Voice became commanding. "If you stay now, you and your
companions are doomed to perish. There is no alternative. Be satisfied
that we know you--we watch you--we shall expect you sooner or later.
Meanwhile--guide your ship!--the way is open."

Quickly she sprang to the steering-gear--she felt the "White Eagle"
moving, and lifting its vast wings for flight.

"Farewell!" she cried, with a sense of tears in her throat--"Farewell!"

"Not farewell!" came the reply, spoken softly and with tenderness--"We
shall meet again soon! I will speak to you in Sicily!"

"In Sicily!" she exclaimed, joyfully--"You will speak to me there?"

"There and everywhere!" answered the Voice--