I stood still, rooted to the spot, the blood curdling in my veins, my eyes straining in vain effort to pierce the darkness.

Then there arose a roar not unlike that of an angry lion; the sound of a fierce struggle; the dull thud of a blow, and Cairnes's deep voice boomed forth.
"Ye black-faced villain! 'T is the strength of the righteous you have felt this day.

Blessed be the name of the Lord, who hath given me the victory! Lie there in your sins, and no longer affront your Maker." I sprang eagerly forward, but at my first step came into contact with a fleeing figure, which rounded the end of the altar in such blind terror as nearly to hurl me from my feet.

I grasped at the floating robe, but missed, and the next instant was rushing blindly after the fellow down the dark passage toward where the moonlight silvered the outer rocks.
Fright gave him wings, but desperate determination lightened my feet, and I was nearly upon him when the fleeing man rounded the great rock.
One instant he paused, glancing behind.

What he saw, or imagined he saw, I have no means of knowing; perchance some shrieking victim of his foul rites risen from the dead.