divine help I slew Inaros and brought the
transgressing virgin back to the Temple. Twenty years have passed--but
of years Aten thinks nothing. Give praise to our God!"

A breathless silence swallowed his shout. Then a mighty roar burst
out, an exultant roar that soared up past the impassive image of the
god and rolled in thunderous echoes along the roof. "Praise to Aten!
Praise to Aten!"

Wesley Craig smiled wryly. He could hardly credit the Kundrenaline's
power in wiping twenty years away; but it was evidently true. Shabako,
he saw, really believed the superstition-conceived story he had just
spun, so--now what?

The High Priest was staring at him malevolently, his slanted eyes
fastened on his garb of furs. His weedy voice pierced through the
echoes.

"O divine Shabako," he questioned shrilly, "who is this stranger?"

The Pharaoh's glance was contemptuous. "A blasphemer," he said
harshly. "One who dares claim--"

But Wes had understood the question. He stepped forward. Frankly and
simply, he told his story.

"I found thy ruler and the maid and her lover in the ice, entrapped,"
he concluded. "I cut them out and, with a fluid which is of common
knowledge in my country, restored them to life. I told this to
Shabako, but he overpowered me and--"

"Hear thou!" bawled the Pharaoh, furiously breaking in. "Blasphemy! He
claims the might of the God! Back, dog, lest I kill thee here myself!"

Wes saw how hopeless it was; he shrugged and stepped back. He read all
too plainly the hatred in Shabako's eyes; his frank story had also
apparently inflamed the High Priest against him. There was not a
friend in the whole Temple, save the girl--and the next moment Hrihor
walked to her.

His slanted eyes ran over her figure. A sneering smile appeared. "So!"
he observed mockingly. "Taia is returned to the Temple! Yes, well do I
remember thee now--the scornful cast of thy mouth, the proud bearing
of thy head. Even Aten thou were scornful of, I remember. Aten
remembers too!" He turned slightly. "Listen, O Shabako. Three days ago
thy elected successor, Siptah, died. We had met to choose a new ruler.
But, by the will of the God, thou art returned and art again Pharaoh.
Thy people are grateful to Aten. In twelve hours a sacrifice shall
proclaim our gratitude." His crafty eyes again swung to the girl.
"There!" he shrilled, "--she pays for her sin. She is the sacrifice!"

There was a great shout from the crowd, but the words that Sha