amiliar touch
and increased the similarity."

"At any rate it did not fall upon you," answered Bickley with something
like a sob, in a voice of mingled awe and exasperation. "For goodness'
sake! Bastin, stop your Biblical parallels and let us adore, yes, let us
adore the divinest creature that the earth has borne!"

Never have I loved Bickley more than when I heard him utter those words.

"'Divinest' is a large term, Bickley, and one to which I hesitate to
subscribe, remembering as I do certain of the prophets and the Early
Fathers with all their faults, not of course to mention the Apostles.
But--" here he paused, for suddenly all three of us became aware of Oro.

He also has been thrown to the ground by the strength of the prisoned
forces which he gathered and loosed upon their unholy errand, but, as
I rejoiced to observe, had suffered from them much more than ourselves.
Doubtless this was owing to the fact that he had sprung forward in
a last wild effort to save his daughter, or to prevent her from
interfering with his experiment, I know not which. As a result his right
cheek was much scorched, his right arm was withered and helpless, and
his magnificent beard was half burnt off him. Further, very evidently he
was suffering from severe shock, for he rocked upon his feet and shook
like an aspen leaf. All this, however, did not interfere with the
liveliness of his grief and rage.

There he stood, a towering shape, like a lightning-smitten statue, and
cursed us, especially Bastin.

"My daughter has gone!" he cried, "burned up by the fiery power that is
my servant. Nothing remains of her but dust, and, Priest, this is your
doing. You poisoned her heart with your childish doctrines of mercy and
sacrifice, and the rest, so that she threw herself into the path of the
flash to save some miserable races that she had never even known."

He paused exhausted, whereon Bastin answered him with spirit:

"Yes, Oro, she being a holy woman, has gone where you will never follow
her. Also it is your own fault since you should have listened to her
entreaties instead of boxing her ears like the brute you are."

"My daughter is gone," went on Oro, recovering his strength, "and my
great designs are ruined. Yet only for a while," he added, "for the
world-balance will return again, if not till long after your life-spans
are done."

"If you don't doctor yourself, Lord Oro," said Bickley, also rising,
"I may tell you as one who under