I described the Egyptian legend of Isis, the goddess of love, of life,
of nature. I told her of St. Theresa, that blessed visionary, whose
soul frequently experienced those voluptuous sensations, such as might
be experienced when expiring in raptures on the bosom of God. I spoke
also of pearly Eve, to whom, ere she had eaten of the fatal fruit,
every moment was a delight, every blossom a wilderness of sweets. I
spoke of Cleopatra, the haughty daughter of the Nile, the fervor of
whose passion thickened into lust and death.

My story was interrupted by the arrival of the captain, who said:
"Your holiness, we will reach Egyplosis in an hour."

"So soon," murmured the goddess.

"Is it the pleasure of your holiness that we alight at the private
sanctuary or at the grand gate?" inquired the captain.

"At the grand gate, of course," said the goddess; "we must give our
friends a royal welcome."

The captain bowed in obedience and disappeared.

The charms of our journey grew more and more interesting. In addition
to the delights of discovery, I felt the rising ambition of a great
joy in connection with Lyone. It was a daring thought, that I might
possibly partake of a glorious _camaraderie_ with the goddess, but
when I thought that no stranger could possibly share a heart that
belonged only to her own people, only to Atvatabar, I felt that Lyone
was very far off indeed.

In a land where spiritual love was the prerogative of the priestly
caste, strictly limited to the members of that caste, any priestly
condescension or favor given to those outside the pale of the
priesthood could have no meaning and was forbidden under penalty of
death. Of course human nature is liable to err always, and it came to
pass that the records of the legal tribunals of Atvatabar proved that
many departures in soul fellowship took place between the most loyal
inmates of Egyplosis and the outer inhabitants. The punishment for
such offence to the most sacred law of Atvatabar, although terrible,
was powerless to prevent such _mesalliances_ of souls.

I knew that a spark of what might prove a mighty conflagration was
already kindled in the bosom of the goddess. It thrilled me to know
it, but only as the laws and customs of this strange country became
known to me did I realize the tremendous risk in Lyone allowing her
heart to betray any kinship, however remote, with mine. The greater
the dignity, the greater the offence. The crime was sacrilege, a