age the bolt she shot fell back upon her own head.

Well, I had often thought as much myself. Only I was sure that _She_
herself could be no actual divinity, though she might be a manifestation
of one, a priestess, a messenger, charged to work its will, to avenge or
to reward, and yet herself a human soul, with hopes and passions to be
satisfied, and a destiny to fulfil. In truth, writing now, when all is
past and done with, I find much to confirm me in, and little to turn me
from that theory, since life and powers of a quality which are more than
human do not alone suffice to make a soul divine. On the other hand,
however, it must be borne in mind that on one occasion at any rate,
Ayesha did undoubtedly suggest that in the beginning she was "a daughter
of Heaven," and that there were others, notably the old Shaman Simbri,
who seemed to take it for granted that her origin was supernatural. But
of all these things I hope to speak in their season.

Meanwhile what lay beyond the mountains? Should we find her there who
held the sceptre and upon earth wielded the power of the outraged Isis,
and with her, that other woman who wrought the wrong? And if so, would
the dread, inhuman struggle reach its climax around the person of the
sinful priest? In a few months, a few days even, we might begin to know.

Thrilled by this thought at length I fell asleep.

CHAPTER IV

THE AVALANCHE

On the morning of the second day from that night the sunrise found us
already on our path across the desert. There, nearly a mile behind us,
we could see the ruined statue of Buddha seated in front of the ancient
monastery, and in that clear atmosphere could even distinguish the bent
form of our friend, the old abbot, Kou-en, leaning against it until we
were quite lost to sight. All the monks had wept when we parted from
them, and Kou-en even more bitterly than the rest, for he had learned to
love us.

"I am grieved," he said, "much grieved, which indeed I should not be,
for such emotion partakes of sin. Yet I find comfort, for I know well
that although I must soon leave this present life, yet we shall meet
again in many future incarnations, and after you have put away these
follies, together tread the path to perfect peace. Now take with you my
blessings and my prayers and begone, forgetting not that should you live
to return"--and he shook his head, doubtfully--"here you will be ever
welcome."

So we embraced him and went sorrowfully.