the earliest
sunbeams loved to fall, stood an alabaster altar; on it a chain of
faded dandelions. The bed was a lovely nest, the lines flowing in long
curves,--a barge of Venus for lovers to voyage to heaven in. On a
table near at hand lay some embroidered work at which Gnulemah's magic
needle had been busy of late. Balder glanced at these things with a
reverence almost timid; and, turning back to what lay so inert and
doltish on the sacred bed, he could not but sigh.

Every means was employed to rally the Egyptian from his swoon. He bore
no external marks of injury, but there could be no doubt that he had
sustained a terrible shock, and possibly concussion of the brain; the
amount of the internal damages could not yet be estimated.--Meanwhile
the black cloud from the west was muttering drowsily overhead, and an
occasional lightning-flash dulled the mild radiance of the lamp. As
consciousness ebbed back to the patient, the storm increased, and the
trembling roll of heavy thunder drowned the first gasps of returning
life. Had that vast cloud come to shut out his soul from heaven, and
was its mighty voice uttering the sentence of his condemnation? The
air was thick with the inconsolable weeping of the rain, and gusty
sighs of wind drove its cold tear-drops against the window.

How was it with Manetho?--During the instant after the ladder had
given way and he was rushing through the air and clutching vainly at
the dark void, every faculty had violently expanded, so that he seemed
to see and think at every pore. The next instant his rudely battered
body refused to bear the soul's messages; light and knowledge sank
into bottomless darkness!

By and by--for aught he knew it might have been an eternity--a brief
gleam divided the night; then another, and others; he seemed to be
moving through air, upborne on a cloud. He strove to open his eyes,
and caught a glimpse of reeling walls,--of a figure,--figures. A deep
rumbling sound was in his ears, as of the rolling together of chaotic
rocks, gradually subsiding into stillness.

He felt no pain, only dreamy ease. He was resting softly on a bank of
flowers, in the heart of a summer's day. He was filled with peace and
love, and peace and love were around him. Some one was nestling beside
him; was it not the woman,--the bright-eyed, smiling gypsy with whom
he had plighted troth?--surely it was she.

"Salome,--Salome, are you here? Touch me,--lay your cheek by mine.
So,--give m