le, in his age and
feebleness? Mystifying as the matter was, St. George exulted as much
as he marveled; for it would be his, at all events, to place the
jewels in Olivia's hands and clear her father's name; he longed to
step out of the dark and confront the old man and seize the casket
out of hand, and he would probably have done so and taken his
chances at getting back to the upper world, had he not been chained
to his corner by the irresistible hope that the old man knew
something more--something about the king. And while he wondered,
reflecting that at any cost he must prevent the replacing of the
pivotal stone, he saw old Malakh take up his taper, turn away from
the table, and open a door which the room's central pillar had cut
from his view.

He was around the table in an instant. The open door revealed three
stone steps which the old man was ascending, one at a time.
Following him cautiously St. George heard a door grate outward at
the head of the stair, saw the taper move forward in darkness, and
the next moment found himself standing in the room of the tombs of
the kings of Yaque. And he saw that the panel which had swung
inward to admit them was set low in the monolithic tomb of King
Abibaal himself.

Old Malakh had crossed swiftly to the wall opposite the tomb, and
stood before the vacant niche which was to be occupied, as Jarvo had
announced, by "His Majesty, King Otho, by the grace of God." There,
setting aside his taper, the old man stretched his arms upward to
the empty shelf and with a gesture of inconceivable weariness bowed
his head upon them and stood silent, the leaping candle-light
silvering his hair.

"Upon my soul," thought St George with finality, "he's murdered him.
Old Malakh has murdered the king, and it's driven him crazy."

With that he did step out of the dark, and he laid his hand suddenly
upon the old man's shoulder.

"Malakh," he said, "what have you done with the king?"

The old man lifted his head and turned toward St. George a face of
singular calm. It was as if so many phantoms vexed his brain that a
strange reality was of little consequence. But as his eyes met those
of St. George a sudden dimness came over them, the lids fluttered
and dropped, and his lips barely formed his words:

"The king," he said. "I did not leave the king. It was the king who
somehow went away and left me here--"

He threw out his hands blindly, tottered and swayed from the wall;
and St. George rec