It flared up for an instant, then fell, and the sacred fire of the
Guebre temple was dead.

"The embers die!" cried the priest. "Yea, mockery of the Divine, die in
thine ashes!"

He waited no longer, but strode with swift step down the mountain, and
into the shade of the valley. Reaching, at last, a cave in the side of a
great rock, he entered, and stripped himself of his priestly garments.
Then, drawing from a recess the garb of an ordinary traveler, he dressed
himself quickly, rolled his white robes into a ball, and plunged farther
into the cave. In the darkness the rush of falling water warned him that
an abyss was near. Dropping on his knees, he crept carefully forward
until his hand rested on the jagged edge of a ledge of rock. Beside him
the water fell into a yawning gulf. Darkness darker than blackest night
was about him, and, in its cover, he cast the robes into the abyss
below, then retraced his way, and plunged once more into the moonlight,
a Persian traveler wearing the customary loose trousers, a kufiyah on
his head, and bearing a long staff in his hand.




CHAPTER II.

A BEDOUIN ENCAMPMENT.

"The cares that infest the day
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away."