the quiet evening sky,
and before us lay the empty bridge, and beyond it the flaming city of
Kaloon. But the armies of Atene, where were they? Go, ask of those great
cairns that hide their bones. Go, ask it of her widowed land.

Yet of our wild company of horsemen not one was lost. After us they
galloped trembling, white-lipped, like men who face to face had fought
and conquered Death, but triumphant--ah, triumphant!

On the high head of the bridge Ayesha wheeled her horse, and so for
one proud moment stood to welcome them. At the sight of her glorious,
star-crowned countenance, which now her Tribes beheld for the first time
and the last, there went up such a shout as men have seldom heard.

"_The Goddess!_" that shout thundered. "Worship the Goddess!"

Then she turned her horse's head again, and they followed on through the
long straight street of the burning city, up to the palace on its crest.

As the sun set we sped beneath its gateway. Silence in the courtyard,
silence everywhere, save for the distant roar of fire and the scared
howlings of the death-hounds in their kennel.

Ayesha sprang from her horse, and waving back all save Oros and myself,
swept through the open doors into the halls beyond.

They were empty, every one--all were fled or dead. Yet she never paused
or doubted, but so swiftly that we scarce could follow her, flitted up
the wide stone stair that led to the topmost tower. Up, still up, until
we reached the chamber where had dwelt Simbri the Shaman, that same
chamber whence he was wont to watch his stars, in which Atene had
threatened us with death.

Its door was shut and barred; still, at Ayesha's coming, yes, before
the mere breath of her presence, the iron bolts snapped like twigs, the
locks flew back, and inward burst that massive portal.

Now we were within the lamp-lit chamber, and this is what we saw. Seated
in a chair, pale-faced, bound, yet proud and defiant-looking, was Leo.
Over him, a dagger in his withered hand--yes, about to strike, in the
very act--stood the old Shaman, and on the floor hard by, gazing upward
with wide-set eyes, dead and still majestic in her death, lay Atene,
Khania of Kaloon.

Ayesha waved her arm and the knife fell from Simbri's hand, clattering
on the marble, while in an instant he who had held it was smitten to
stillness and became like a man turned to stone.

She stooped, lifted the dagger, and with a swift stroke severed Leo's
bonds; then, as though