"Not in the open streets!" said Ormaz hastily.

"No--ye have not the mettle for that!"--and Lysia smiled darkly,
while the great eye on her breast flashed forth a sardonic lustre--
"Strong as ye all are, and young, ye lack the bravery of the weak
old man who, mad as he may be, has at least the courage of his
opinions! Who is there here that believes in the Sun as a god, or
in Nagaya as a mediator? Not one, . . but ye are cultured hypocrites
all, and careful to keep your heresies secret!"

"And thou, Lysia!" suddenly cried Nir-jalis, . . "Why if thou canst
so liberally admire the valor of thy sworn enemy Khosrul, why dost
not THOU step boldly forth, and abjure the Faith thou art
Priestess of, yet in thy heart deridest as a miserable
superstition?"

She turned her splendid flashing orbs slowly upon him, ... what an
awful chill, steely glitter leaped forth from their velvet-soft
depths!

"Prithee, be heedful of thy speech, good Nirjalis!" she said, with
a quiver in her voice curiously like the suppressed snarl of her
pet tigress.. "The majority of men are fools, ... like thee! ...
and need to be ruled according to their folly!"

Ormaz broke into a laugh. "And thou dost rule them, wise Virgin,
with a rod of iron!" he said satirically ... "The King himself is
but a slave in thy hands!" "The King is a devout believer,"--
remarked a dainty, effeminate-looking youth, arrayed in a