are become still. The sound
of the tramping of the weary slaves as they go round and round never
comes to the surface. Long since the musicians sleep, and their hands
have fallen dumb upon their instruments, and the voices in the city
have died away. Perhaps a sigh of one of the desert women has become
half a song, or on a hot night in summer one of the women of the hills
sings softly a song of snow; all night long in the midst of the purple
garden sings one nightingale; all else is still; the stars that look
on Babbulkund arise and set, the cold unhappy moon drifts lonely
through them, the night wears on; at last the dark figure of Nehemoth,
eighty-second of his line, rises and moves stealthily away.'

The traveller ceased to speak. For a long time the clear stars,
sisters of Babbulkund, had shone upon him speaking, the desert wind
had arisen and whispered to the sand, and the sand had long gone
secretly to and fro; none of us had moved, none of us had fallen
asleep, not so much from wonder at his tale as from the thought that
we ourselves in two days' time should see that wondrous city. Then we
wrapped our blankets around us and lay down with our feet towards the
embers of our fire and instantly were asleep, and in our dreams we
multiplied the fame of the City of Marvel.

The sun arose and flamed upon our faces, and all the desert glinted
with its light. Then we stood up and prepared the morning meal, and,
when we had eaten, the traveller departed. And we commended his soul
to the god of the land whereto he went, of the land of his home to the
northward, and he commended our souls to the god of the people of
the land wherefrom we had come. Then a traveller overtook us going on
foot; he wore a brown cloak that was all in rags and he seemed to have
been walking all night, and he walked hurriedly but appeared weary, so
we offered him food and drink, of which he partook thankfully. When
we asked him where he was going, he answered 'Babbulkund.' Then we
offered him a camel upon which to ride, for we said, 'We also go to
Babbulkund.' But he answered strangely: 'Nay, pass on before me, for
it is a sore thing never to have seen Babbulkund, having lived while
yet she stood. Pass on before me and behold her, and then flee away at
once, returning northward.'

Then, though we understood him not, we left him, for he was insistent,
and passed on our journey southwards through the desert, and we came
before the middle of the day