strode the giant Foot. And, as strode the Foot, so with it came,
like the sound of its tread, a roll of muttered thunder.

I recoiled, with a cry that rang loud through the lurid air.

"Courage!" said the voice of Ayesha. "Trembling soul, yield not an
inch to the demon!"

At the charm, the wonderful charm, in the tone of the Veiled
Woman's voice, my will seemed to take a force more sublime than its
own. I folded my arms on my breast, and stood as if rooted to the
spot, confronting the column of smoke and the stride of the giant
Foot. And the Foot halted, mute.

Again, in the momentary hush of that suspense, I heard a voice--it
was Margrave's.

"The last hour expires--the work is accomplished! Come! come! Aid
me to take the caldron from the fire; and, quick!--or a drop may be
wasted in vapor--the Elixir of Life from the caldron!"

At that cry I receded, and the Foot advanced.

And at that moment, suddenly, unawares, from behind, I was stricken
down. Over me, as I lay, swept a whirlwind of trampling hoofs and
glancing horns. The herds, in their flight from the burning
pastures, had rushed over the bed of the water course, scaled the
slopes of the banks. Snorting and bellowing, they plunged their
blind way to the mountains. One cry alone, more wild than their
own savage blare, pierced the reek through which the Brute