she had been by moonlight. She was lying under a canopy of turquoise blue silk which vied in colour and brilliancy with the sky above it. Beneath it her hair looked like living copper, and her skin white and polished like the alabaster. Her beautiful panther lay at her feet, and Hugh stood on the steps which led up to the throne-like couch on which she reclined. Neither of them saw me, and I stood for a while looking at the dainty picture.
"I have oft wondered," she was saying, "what lies beyond those hills. Ur-tasen says that there is naught but the valley of death, where foot of man ne'er treads, but where carrion beasts prowl at night, and vultures fly screeching overhead. When he talks like that my flesh creeps with horror, and for days I cannot bear to look upon those hills; then, a lovely morning comes like to-day, Osiris emerges in his golden barge more radiant than ever from out that valley of death, and then all day I long to follow him in his course and disappear with him behind the hills in Ma-nu, so that I might see the glories that lie beyond."
I was debating with myself whether I should discreetly retire or interrupt this tête-à-tête, which my reason suggested was dangerous somehow to my friend.
"Thou who comest from the foot of the throne of Osiris," she resumed, turning eagerly towards Hugh, "thou must know whither he wanders every night, whilst Isis his bride reigneth in the heavens. Wilt tell me what lies beyond the hills of Kamt?"
"Ur-tasen has told thee: the valley of death; the desert wilderness, where no man can live, no bird sing, nor flower blossom."
"Ay! But beyond that?"
"Beyond it?"
"Yes! after death surely must come life again; af-
