Assarac drew a long breath of relief; and Beladon, at the extremity of one of the lower terraces, whispered to the priest standing next him,
"What think you, brother—will they come down for him to-night in chariots of fire, as it is written in the stars?"
To which the other replied:
"Sacrifices and drink-offerings have been rendered, enough to propitiate a thousand gods; and surely brother, the stars cannot lie."
But on the face of his people, from which he had never turned in fear nor scorn, it was the Great King's destiny to look no more. Ascending into the seclusion of the Talar, he had no sooner entered its cedar-house than a strange lethargy and drowsiness enwrapped his senses. Ere he could pour out his drink-offering to the four quarters of heaven, his eyes grew heavy, his perceptions failed, his feet seemed glued amidst the rushes, strewed ankle-deep on the wooden floor, and he sank wearily into the throne prepared for him, like a man overcome with sleep.
He must have been dreaming surely, when in a corner of that chamber, at the level of his feet, he saw a dark face, brought out by a sudden glare of light—a face of which the stern lineaments, familiar surely, yet now so distorted as to be unrecognised, denoted some set purpose inassailable by pity or remorse. In the gleaming eyes, fixed steadfastly on his own, he read a horror that seemed to freeze his blood; but even then in his ghastly trance the stout old heart laughed within him, to acknowledge no sense of fear.
Yes; he must be dreaming. What else could mean these gathering shadows that oppressed his lungs, that smarted in his eyes, that numbed his faculties? He was in a glow of torpid warmth now, conscious but of a heavy drowsiness, broken by leaping flashes of light; while there passed before him, like a spirit floating across a sea of fire, the delicate head, the pale proud face, the matchless beauty of his queen. He stretched his gaunt old arms, he strove to rise, to cry out; but his limbs failed him, his head drooped, his tongue clove to his mouth.
"A dream," he thought again; "surely a dream."
But it was the last dream of the Great King, fallen into that sleep from which he never woke on earth again.