the truth which the wretched father, in his blindness, had never suspected. He knew at last that Damma had ceased to love him, and that she had given all her passion and all herself to his son.
As if spell-bound, he watched the disenchanting picture. It was too real to be incredible. He felt that it was more than a dream, and in his agony of madness he buried his feverish head in his hands. But suddenly a crash seemed to shake the cavern, and Antar perforce looked up again. The vision had changed. Damma, dead and crushed, was lying prone upon the earth, and above her, horror-struck, stood Arvah, staring fearfully skyward, whence had come the bolt that had smitten his love in its first unholy bliss of delirious joy.
Again Antar rushed wildly away. In the far distance he saw a light, and he made towards it. It streamed feebly from an opening in the rock far above his head; but, after some climbing he reached it, and looked through into a small chamber which, to his joy, seemed to be the living-place of a human being.
