t the priest's sly
face. "Who art thou?" he demanded suddenly.

"Hrihor, High Priest of Aten."

Craig heard the girl whisper something, inaudible because of her
surprise, but Shabako's bewildered voice cut in:

"Hrihor! It cannot be! Thou art not Hrihor! When last I saw Hrihor, he
was an under-priest of twenty. Ay was High Priest of the Temple! Call
him! Where is Ay?"

"Dust," said the priest. "Dust these ten years and more."

Wes's senses were reeling. The bodies in the ice--he had taken it for
granted they had only lain there for days; a week at most. That they
had been entrapped for twenty years was incredible. Had he known that,
he would not even have thought of using the Kundrenaline. Twenty years
ago he had been a boy of eight; it meant--Lord!--it meant the youthful
girl beside him was twice her age; and Shabako an old man! Old--yet
young! Fantastic, unimaginable--yet true!

He saw Shabako pass a hand over his face, as if his body were suddenly
tired; but the next moment it tautened again and he swung around. His
face was unreadable. A multitude of conflicting emotions struggled
there. He strode to a group of several of the older men.

"Look at me!" he cried, facing them squarely. "Look well at my
features! Am I not he who twenty years ago--as the High Priest
says--pursued the priestess and her lover into the land of ice? Am I
not the man who ruled thee? Am I not Shabako? Is this not the
priestess, Taia?"

They stared at him. Remembrance suddenly gleamed on their faces. A
thin, cracked voice shrilled:

"Yea! Thou art Shabako! Thou art Shabako as he was twenty years
ago--old, yet without the lines of age on thy brow! And the
priestess--well do I remember her. That is she!"

A hand pointed at the trembling girl; all eyes centered on her. The
High Priest's mouth dropped open, and he believed.

* * * * *

Then Shabako breathed deeply, drew himself up and with kingly dignity
faced the ranks of his people, sword again held imperiously aloft.

"Thou hast seen!" he cried. "Thou hast heard! Here is the guilty
Taia--and here am I, returned to thee, still with the strength of my
prime! As I was about to slay the rash Inaros, the ice entrapped us,
and for twenty years we lay thus, while my spirit pursued those two
guilty ones across the River of Death. Then Aten aided me, filled my
veins with His holy fire and melted the ice from our bodies. We lived
and breathed again. With His