A spark had been kindled within his very soul, the night that
Sarthia found herself in Nu-nah's temple and for a moment
consciously remembered and spoke, that had been burning deeper and
deeper until now, it was ready to burst forth as an ever-living
flame at the first breath of hope that this new emotion was of the
soul--real and immortal.

Did he dare for a moment listen to the whispering of the interior
self? Fear alone made him drive back and quell the monitions that
sprang from within, for O, if they were only vain hopes could he
survive the disappointment? The thought was crushing, and better,
he thought, not to hope than believe an illusion.

The magnetic chord that yet held Nu-nah to her frail, prostrated
body had not yet been severed. The unconscious soul hung or rather
floated about its temple, apparently waiting for a stronger force
from the interior realm to call it away.

The Hierophant stepped to the front of the Altar and, raising his
hands, invoked the presence of the Gods and their assistance in this
Sacred ceremony of making that Transfer of the spiritual life-line
that binds the spirit to soul, and soul to body.

As the two souls hung suspended by these magnetic life-chords above
their own bodies, through the magical influences of the Priests,
the chants and music came closer and closer, as if drawn together by
some strong magnetic attraction.

Sarthia, now, as well as Nu-nah, was unconscious of what was taking