yed woman's tender face and the touch of a white hand soothing
me to rest. Visions, too, of a royal countenance bending at times over
my rocking bed--a countenance that I could not grasp, but whose beauty
flowed through my fevered veins and was a part of me--visions of
childhood and of the Temple towers of Abouthis, and of the white-haired
Amenemhat, my father--ay, and an ever-present vision of that dread hall
in Amenti, and of the small altar and the Spirits clad in flame! There I
seemed to wander everlastingly, calling on the Holy Mother, whose memory
I could not grasp; calling ever and in vain! For no cloud descended upon
the altar, only from time to time the great Voice pealed aloud: "Strike
out the name of Harmachis, child of Earth, from the living Book of Her
who Was and Is and Shall Be! _Lost! lost! lost!_"

And then another voice would answer:

"Not yet! not yet! Repentance is at hand; strike not out the name of
Harmachis, child of Earth, from the living Book of Her who Was and Is
and Shall Be! By suffering may sin be wiped away!"

I woke to find myself in my own chamber in the tower of the palace. I
was so weak that I scarce could lift my hand, and life seemed but to
flutter in my breast as flutters a dying dove. I could not turn my head;
I could not stir; yet in my heart there was a sense of rest and of dark
trouble done. The light from the lamp hurt my eyes: I shut them, and,
as I shut them, heard the sweep of a woman's robes upon the stair, and a
swift, light step that I knew well. It was that of Cleopatra!

She entered and drew near. I felt her come! Every pulse of my poor frame
beat an answer to her footfall, and all my mighty love and hate rose
from the darkness of my death-like sleep, and rent me in their struggle!
She leaned over me; her ambrosial breath played upon my face: I could
hear the beating of her heart! Lower she leaned, till at last her lips
touched me softly on the brow.

"Poor man!" I heard her murmur. "Poor, weak, dying Man! Fate hath been
hard to thee! Thou wert too good to be the sport of such a one as I--the
pawn that I must move in my play of policy! Ah, Harmachis! thou shouldst
have ruled the game! Those plotting priests could give thee learning;
but they could not give thee knowledge of mankind, nor fence thee
against the march of Nature's law. And thou didst love me with all thy
heart--ah! well I know it! Manlike, thou didst love the eyes that, as
a pirate's lights, beckoned the