One by one the lamps that flickered in the temple were extinguished by the seer, who left burning only those two which hung on either side of the altar. Then Raspul stood before the altar, with arms upraised, and head thrown back so as to look through the roof-hole, apparently wrapped in meditation. His lips moved rapidly, and at times his whole body became convulsed. Finally, he bowed before the altar, and threw dust on his head.
As we watched, we saw the weird figure rise up and walk slowly across the pavement to a small door, through which it passed, and disappeared for a while. When the seer entered the temple again, he was a changed man. He was no longer disguised in paint, but was clothed in a long yellow silken robe. I now for the first time saw his face clearly. It was thin and wan, with a parchment-like skin almost of the same colour as his robe, and clean shaven—as was also the whole of his head. Such a face I had never seen before, and I gazed on it in wonder.
"Is this really the seer of whom you told me," I whispered to Faris, "and the same that we thought had perished in the fire?"
"Yes," he replied, "but do not speak, for fear of breaking the spell which is upon him."
So I remained silent, and watched intently the movements of the seer, who was now busying himself around the massive wooden altar. From the doorway he brought faggots, and piling them up, poured oil over them; then he took a lighted wick from the hanging lamp, and set fire to the pile on all sides. The burning sticks crackled, and the flames shot up towards the hole in the roof, and we could see that the altar itself was ablaze. Why should the man—or priest, as he evidently was—destroy his own altar, I wondered. Could it be that the seer had become mad? Yet he appeared to be perfectly calm, as, standing back from the heat of the fire, he gazed on his handiwork.
He was now praying earnestly, and at times stretched out his hands towards the altar in supplication. At first only his lips moved, and no sound came from them; but, presently, in his fervour, he began to speak aloud, and then slowly but clearly came the words.
"O Queen! Great Goddess-Queen! Think not that Raspul, thy slave, thy worshipper, hath done aught to merit thy displeasure. Never had he any intention of betraying his trust, and had not the fire come to help him, he would have willingly died in the defence of the secret. He lied to the tribesmen who sought the treasure, and he made false promises. For such things, I, Raspul, humble myself before my Queen and the gods, and seek their pardon. Manifest thyself, Immortal Sophana, and thus let thy slave know that his deeds have not been misunderstood."
As he spoke, the seer continuously flung handfuls of incense on to the fire, and the flames streaked upwards in varied colours, while the temple was filled with penetrating odours. The glare, the heat, and the heavily-perfumed air made my head throb until I thought it would burst, and the sheik, I noticed, was equally overcome. The altar was rapidly being consumed; the flames had died down; curls of smoke ascended; while the massive timbers, glowing red, began to crumble away and fall to the ground. Then, suddenly the whole structure tottered and fell with a crash, an immense volume of smoke leaping towards the roof-hole, and filling every corner of the temple. Nearly blinded and half-suffocated, I began to fear that the seer was attempting to destroy us in the same way that we had seen him destroy his three Bedouin foes.
"Let us escape," I said to Faris, as I jumped to my feet; "quick, before we are smothered."
"Lie down flat on the floor," he replied, "and keep quiet. The smoke will, in the course of time, all pass through the hole."