was our
civilization begun.

"There were virgins of the Temple, holy, set apart from man, sacred to
Aten. Never did one betray her sacred trust--never, until Taia fled to
the land of ice with the sacrilegious Inaros. Our mighty Pharaoh
pursued them, and after twenty years, by Aten's special grace, slew
the man and brought the maid back to pay for her transgression. Never
before has this happened."

He paused, waiting. An under-priest spoke; evidently following some
ritual.

"Here is the priestess, O High Priest of Aten! What penalty must she
pay?"

"Death in Aten's hands!" the cold voice shrilled instantly. "The God
wills it!"

* * * * *

But now came an interruption, unexpected and disconcerting to the
well-laid plans of Hrihor. The voice of Pharaoh Shabako cried out:

"Another came with this priestess--a blasphemous stranger! He lies
concealed; the maid will not tell where! High Priest, let her be
tortured in Aten's hands until she reveals where he is!"

For a moment Hrihor lost his mask-like rigidity, of expression. His
eyes shifted nervously. But Shabako was not to be denied. Again be
repeated his demand.

"We must pray to Aten to make his hand descend on her, prick and gash
her, till she divulges!"

A murmur arose from the people in the Temple: they approved the
torture. Hrihor, obviously reluctant, was forced to comply.

"O mighty Aten," he cried, turning to the idol, "thou hast heard our
Pharaoh. We pray to thee to lay thy hand on the priestess Taia, till
she tells where the stranger lies concealed!"

Shabako nodded in approval. While a mumbled prayer rose, four priests
strode to the girl, lifted her slight form and flung it on the
upturned lower band of the idol. They strapped her there securely, her
breast but ten feet below the waiting knife. Even then she did not
struggle or cry out.

She did not know who had won the fight inside the secret room, but her
heart told her it was the mysterious stranger, for was he not a
god?--She would not be afraid, for he would surely reveal his
divinity, and save her, even as he had from her twenty-year death, and
from her bonds in the cell where they had been imprisoned....

The softly chanted prayer surged through the Temple. Hrihor's slitted
eyes were on the knife in the upper palm of the idol. Suddenly he
flung up his arms, and cried:

"Now, O Aten!"

The prayer stopped. With fearful interest the people stared at the