could not rest. And yet for the dead there is no consolation of tears!
The stars in their silent courses looked down through the crannies of the tomb and passed on; the birds sang above him and flew to other lands; the lizards ran noiselessly above his bed of stone and as noiselessly departed; the spider at last ceased to renew her web of magical silk; the years came and went as before, but for the dead there was no rest!
And it came to pass that after many tropical moons had waxed and waned, and the summer was come, with a presence sweet as a fair woman's,—making the drowsy air odorous about her,—that she whose name was uttered by his lips when the Shadow of Death fell upon him, came to that city of palms, and to the ancient place of burial, and even to the tomb that was nameless.
And he knew the whisper of her robes; and from the heart of the dead man a flower sprang and passed through the fissure in the wall of the tomb and blossomed before her and breathed out its soul in passionate sweetness.
But she, knowing it not, passed by; and the sound of her footsteps died away forever!
