and my disappointment, when, seven days before
her twenty-first birthday, she was bitten by a cerastes, and her body
died. Had she been near her home, her knowledge would have defied the
powers of this most deadly serpent's bite; for she knew antidotes for
every poison. As it was, however, the same kind of serpent that had laid
the beautiful Cleopatra low, likewise set at liberty the soul of Ilfra.
Do not think Abou grieved because of her death. Death was not death to
him--his eyes pierced that dark barrier; he suffered because the
glorious knowledge he longed for was rudely snatched from him."

"'Thou man of the West who bearest the name of a Jewish king,' he said
to me, 'this is a heavy blow.'

"'Not too heavy for you, Abou,' I said. 'The soul has flown, but when
the three times seven years is complete you can call her back and learn
her wisdom.'"

"'I can call her back, but the secret--ah, I know it not,' he said."

By this time there was a deadly silence in the room. Every ear was
strained, so that not one sound of Voltaire's voice might be missed. As
for him, he sat with his eyes fixed, as if he saw beyond the present
time and place, while his face was like a piece of marble. Kaffar, I
noticed, fixed his eyes upon his friend, and in his stony stare he
seemed possessed of an evil spirit.

None of the English guests spoke when Voltaire stopped a second in his
narration. All seemed afraid to utter a sound, except Kaffar.

"Go on, Herod," he said; "I am up in Egypt again."

"It was little we ate," said Voltaire, "during the next seven days. We
were too anxious to know whether the secrets of the dead were to be
revealed. Neither could we speak much, for the tongue is generally
silent when the soul is wrapped in mystery; and right glad were we when
the day dawned on which the veil should be made thicker or altogether
drawn aside.

"We did not seek to know the mystery after which we were panting until
the midnight of Ilfra's birthday. Then, when the earth in its revolution
spelt out that hour, we entered the room of the maiden whose soul had
departed.

"The Egyptians have lost much of the knowledge of the ancients,
especially in the art of embalming. Often the sons of Egypt moan over
that departed wisdom; still the art is not altogether gone. The body of
Ilfra lay embalmed before us as we entered. She had been beautiful in
life, but was more beautiful in death, and it was with reverence for
that beauty that I