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THE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE.
"RALLY OUR FOLLOWERS — TODAY SHALL JEHOVAH'S TEMPLE FALL."
thee, and thou shalt stand forth and defv Athalia. Thou art not afraid, lad?"
"Nay !" cried the boy, slipping from the woman's knee and standing straight and proud, his dark eves lit with royal fire. "Shall a king be afraid?"
Meanwhile, Athalia sat in council with the priests of Baal. For weeks they had been urging a bold scheme upon her.
"Gather your forces and destroy the temple of Jerusalem," they said. "It is to the Jews the sacred abiding place of their God. Destroy this temple and you scatter their forces, check their power, and weaken that faith in Jehovah which is the foundation of +heir strength."
The vengeful queen hesitated. In spite of her haughty arrogance, her mind was torn with doubt and foreboding. Were Baal and his priests greater than the God Jehovah? She was ever troubled ■ by thoughts of the insecurity of her hold upon the throne.
the dread of being deposed and dishonored, and the lurking fear, never disclosed, that somewhere, a child was hidden away who would reach out a tiny hand to grasp her scepter.
Sitting late with the priests one night, her spirits grew bolder under their artful encouragement, and she rashly promised to begin immediately to marsh all her forces for the destruction of the sacred edifice.
Left alone, Athalia's elation vanished, and she became a prey to superstitious fears. Her mind ran back thru the years and she thought of the dead body of her infamous mother, dishonored; of her husband, slaying his brethren to confirm himself in his power; of her son, weakly yielding to her vile influence. Suddenly, before her, in the clear moonlight on the bare floor, there lay five white, stark, young bodies, staring at her with wide eyes, while behind them stood a slender, rosy lad, with a tangle of dark curls, wearing the features of her dead son, looking at her with the eyes of her dead son's wife.