him, and the trees and flowers growing
around it, that were unlike any of which Godfrey had ever heard. Also
she said that there were many other matters whereof she would wish to
speak to him, only she might not.

Finally there came a vivid dream in which she told him that soon he
would wake up to the world again for a little while (she seemed to lay
emphasis on this "little while") and, if he could not find her in it,
that he must not grieve at all, since although their case seemed sad,
it was much better than he could conceive. In his dream she made him
promise that he would not grieve, and he did so, wondering. At this she
smiled, looking more beautiful than ever he could have conceived her to
be. Then she spoke these words, always, as it appeared, within him,
printing them, as it were, upon his mind:

"Now you are about to wake up and I must leave you for a while. But
this I promise you, my most dear, my beloved, my own, that before you
fall asleep again for the last time, you shall see me once more, for
that is allowed to me. Indeed it shall be I who will soothe you to
sleep and I who will receive you when you awake again. Also in the
space between, although you do not see me, you will always feel me
near, and I shall be with you. So swear to me once more that you will
not grieve."

Then in his vision Godfrey swore, and she appeared to lean over him and
whisper words into his ear that, although they impressed themselves
upon his brain as the others had done, had no meaning for him, since
they were in some language which he did not understand.

Only he knew that they conveyed a blessing to him, and not that of
Isobel alone!

CHAPTER XXI

LOVE ETERNAL

Godfrey awoke and looked about him. He was lying in a small room
opposite to an open window that had thin gauze shutters which, as an
old Indian, he knew at once were to keep out mosquitoes. Through this
window he could see the mighty, towering shapes of the Pyramids, and
reflected that after all there must have been some truth in those
wonderful dreams. He lifted his hand; it was so thin that the strong
sunlight shone through it. He touched his head and felt that it was
wrapped in bandages, also that it seemed benumbed upon one side.

A little dark woman wearing a nurse's uniform, entered the room and he
asked her where he was, as once before he had done in France and under
very similar conditions. She stared and answered with an Irish accent:

"Where