the person of his Anti-christ."

The High-Priest, standing on the top-step of the wide flight that led
to the porch, faced the people and priests, and began to recite
selected parts of Solomon's prayer at the Dedication of _his_ Temple.
These finished, he cried, with a loud voice:

"It having pleased our God to restore us, His chosen earthly people,
the Jews, to our own land, and to our own beautiful Zion," joy of the
whole earth, "we make the occasion to be as the beginning of a new era,
a new year. And as the Lord spake unto Moses and Aaron, in Egypt,
saying: 'This month shall be the beginning of months: it shall be the
_first month of the year to you_,' so we proclaim to _our_ people
today, this month shall be the beginning of our New Year, and of a New
Dispensation to us."

Dropping his proclamation loudness of voice, he slipped into his
synagogue recitative tone, as he went on:

"On the first of the month, shall be a Sabbath, a memorial of blowing
of trumpets and holy convocation. Ye shall offer an offering unto the
Lord."

He signed to the Tokeang--the Shophar blower--and instantly the weird,
curious, quavering, vibrating sounds broke on the still air.

As the last note of the shophar died away, Cohen cried:

"Let all the house of Israel, sacrifice unto the Lord!"

Lifting his hand as he spoke, a turbaned priest led a lamb to the foot
of the altar. A gleaming knife, snatched from his girdle flashed for a
moment in the air; there was a swift movement of the sacrificial
priest's arm, a gurgle from the silent lamb, and the little fleecy
thing sank dying upon the grating before the altar.

Only those immediately near could see all that followed, until the
moment when the carcass of the lamb was reared to the grating on the
summit of the altar.

A strange stillness rested upon the people gathered, as another
turbaned priest brought a torch to fire the wood beneath the altar.

Before he could reach the altar, the voice of Apleon stayed his feet.

"Let no fire be brought!" he cried, in commanding tones. "I will
consume the offering!"

He stretched his right hand forth, the fingers closed. Then opening
his fingers, he drew back his arm suddenly, sharply, then jerked it
forward again--it was the old mesmeric pass of the magicians.

Instantly, the interior of the altar blazed with long, fierce forks of
many coloured flames, and as they finally resolved themselves into a
blood-red fiery cloud that hung