faint; in the far distance of the hollow pit they wailed themselves away.
Look! from the east a single ray of upward-springing light.
Behold the dawn,
said the quiet voice of Oros.
That ray pierced the heavens above our heads, a very sword of flame. It sank downwards, swiftly. Suddenly it fell, not upon us, for as yet the rocky walls of our chamber warded it away, but on to the little promontory at its edge.
Oh! and there—a Glory covered with a single garment—stood a shape celestial. It seemed to be asleep, since the eyes were shut. Or was it dead, for at first that face was a face of death? Look, the sunlight played upon her, shining through the thin veil, the dark eyes opened like the eyes of a wondering child; the blood of life flowed up the ivory bosom into the pallid cheeks; the raiment of black and curling tresses wavered in the wind; the head of the jewelled snake that held them sparkled beneath her breast.
Was it an illusion, or was this Ayesha as she had been when she entered the rolling flame in the caverns of Kôr? Our knees gave way beneath us, and down, our arms about each other's necks, Leo and I sank till we lay upon the ground. Then a voice sweeter than honey, softer than the whisper of a twilight breeze among the reeds, spoke near to us, and these were the words it said—
Come hither to me, Kallikrates, who would pay thee back that redeeming kiss of faith and love thou gavest me but now!
Leo struggled to his feet. Like a drunken man he staggered to where Ayesha stood, then overcome, sank before her on his knees.
Arise,
she said, it is I who should kneel to thee,
and she stretched out her hand to raise him, whispering in his ear the while.
