he one by which we
had ascended. And I remember how eagerly I wished for a crowbar in order
that I might break down a little of the _debris_, so that the ascent
might be less easy for prowling beasts.

But as there was nothing of the sort at hand, I dismissed the two Arabs
and resolved to be as brave, if possible, as the singularly brave and
beautiful woman who had come here to hear the voices of desolation.

The sky was rimmed with yellow; yellow to the east, yellow to the west;
a world of soft and restful yellow that melted away by gradations as the
eye ascended from the desert. It was like melody in its serene harmonies
and awful glory.

And she at my side partook of it all; she breathed it, absorbed it,
literally became a part of it. I saw her grow and glow. Soul and body I
saw her dilate and expand till she was in absolute harmony with the awe
and splendor that encompassed us. I felt that she had been in the midst
of, even a part of, this tawny desolation ages and ages before. Perhaps
her soul had been born here, born before the pyramids.

CHAPTER III.

With my own hands I spread her couch of skins and rugs in the remotest
corner of a great stone slab that still lifted its unbroken front, in
defiance of time, high above the tawny sands of the desert. The night
was very sultry, even here on this high and roomy summit. The broad,
deep slab of granite was still warm with sunshine gone away, and gave
out heat like a dying furnace. The steep and arduous ascent had taxed
her strength, and unloosing her robe as I turned to examine more
minutely our strange quarters on the top of this lofty tomb, or temple,
she sank to rest, half reclining on her arm, her chin in her upturned
palm, her face lifted away toward the rising moon.

Half a dozen paces to the right I saw two tall and ponderous columns of
granite standing in line with those that supported the great slab on
which she rested. Evidently these grand and solitary columns had also
once been topped by granite slabs. But these had fallen to the ground
under the leveling feet of many centuries, and now lay almost swallowed
up in the sea of yellow sands below. I put out my foot carefully, trying
to reach the broad top of the nearest column of granite, but it was
beyond me. Stepping back a couple of paces and quietly removing my
boots, I gathered up my strength and made a leap, landing almost in the
center of the column's top. A half step backward, another leap