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But her movement had startled a form beside the couch, some one

who had approached, unobserved by Sarthia, during the interval of

unconsciousness.

A young man who seemed to her the most God-like being she had

ever beheld and perceiving her glance, with a low exclamation of

joy, sprang toward her, clasped her hand in his, and turning her

face upward, gazed with most passionate tenderness into her eyes.

"My Nu-nah, you will live," he murmured. "Do you know your

Rathunor?"

Thrilled to suffocation by the love in his eyes, every atom of

her soul vibrating to a new-born and overwhelming emotion, she

felt herself slowly but surely losing control of her new body.

With, however, one supreme effort she pressed the hand holding

hers and returning the look in his eyes she gave one deep,

quivering sigh and was gone.

When again she regained consciousness she was within her own

body. Rathunor had vanished and the first slanting rays of the

Moon were descending the last aperture.