ng has
been neglected, and no lamb skipping at the shamble doors can be more
innocent of its doom than is Queen Cleopatra."

"It is well," I said again; "let us be going," and rising, I placed the
dagger in the bosom of my robe. Taking a cup of wine that stood near, I
drank deep of it, for I had scarce tasted food all that day.

"One word," Charmion said hurriedly, "for it is not yet time: last
night--ah, last night--" and her bosom heaved, "I dreamed a dream that
haunts me strangely, and perchance thou also didst dream a dream. It was
all a dream and 'tis forgotten: is it not so, my Lord?"

"Yes, yes," I said; "why troublest thou me thus at such an hour?"

"Nay, I know not; but to-night, Harmachis, Fate is in labour of a great
event, and in her painful throes mayhap she'll crush me in her grip--me
or thee, or the twain of us, Harmachis. And if that be so--well, I would
hear from thee, before it is done, that 'twas naught but a dream, and
that dream forgot----"

"Yes, it is all a dream," I said idly; "thou and I, and the solid earth,
and this heavy night of terror, ay, and this keen knife--what are these
but dreams, and with what face shall the waking come?"

"So now, thou fallest in my humour, royal Harmachis. As thou sayest, we
dream; and while we dream yet can the vision change. For the phantasies
of dreams are wonderful, seeing that they have no stability, but vary
like the vaporous edge of sunset clouds, building now this thing, and
now that; being now dark and heavy, and now alight with splendour.
Therefore, before we wake to-morrow tell me one word. Is that vision of
last night, wherein I _seemed_ to be quite shamed, and thou didst _seem_
to laugh upon my shame, a fixed phantasy, or can it, perchance, yet
change its countenance? For remember, when that waking comes, the
vagaries of our sleep will be more unalterable and more enduring than
are the pyramids. Then they will be gathered into that changeless
region of the past where all things, great and small--ay, even dreams,
Harmachis, are, each in its own semblance, frozen to stone and built
into the Tomb of Time immortal."

"Nay, Charmion," I replied, "I grieve if I did pain thee; but over that
vision comes no change. I said what was in my heart and there's an end.
Thou art my cousin and my friend, I can never be more to thee."

"It is well--'tis very well," she said; "let it be forgotten. And now on
from dream--to dream," and she smiled with such a smile