“Urgis?”
“Gracious King, thus is it.”
“And—hath the high priest gone?”
“Priest Hafoe hath told it that the high priest sitteth again as stone in the inner holy place.”
“Why is the altar fire thus feeble?”
“Gracious King, I know not. In spite of us, it will but flicker, and, at times, doth threaten to go out.”
Here was a dreadful omen.
The king would have spoken further, but his voice was thickening, his tongue growing sluggish: so, he turned abruptly from Kluto; and, with uncertain step, passed into the inner sanctuary. Here was still burning the ‘Silent Priest’s’ hand lamp; here the altar fire flickered feebly as that of the temple proper; here the great apartment was in shadow save where the sun’s beams entered faint through the hangings of the apertures.
In a passion of fear, Atlano looked about him, and called, “Oltis—Oltis!”
There was no response. Though quickly his eyes lighted upon the unhappy Oltis, who was sitting behind the statue of Amen, his rigid body bent forward, his eyes bright to madness.