gs. In any case they are done with
now."

"Not quite, Mr. Quatermain, even as you mean, since we have still a long
way to go. Also in another sense I believe that they are but begun."

"I do not understand, Lady Ragnall."

"Nor do I, but listen. You know that of anything which happened during
those months I have no memory at all, except of that one dream when I
seemed to see George and Savage in the hut. I remember my baby being
killed by that horrible circus elephant, just as the Ivory Child was
killed or rather destroyed by Jana, which I suppose is another of your
coincidences, Mr. Quatermain. After that I remember nothing until I woke
up and saw George standing in front of me covered with blood, and you,
and Jana dead, and the rest."

"Because during that time your mind was gone, Lady Ragnall."

"Yes, but where had it gone? I tell you, Mr. Quatermain, that although
I remember nothing of what was passing about me then, I do remember a
great deal of what seemed to be passing either long ago or in some time
to come, though I have said nothing of it to George, as I hope you will
not either. It might upset him."

"What do you remember?" I asked.

"That's the trouble; I can't tell you. What was once very clear to me
has for the most part become vague and formless. When my mind tries to
grasp it, it slips away. It was another life to this, quite a different
life; and there was a great story in it of which I think what we have
been going through is either a sequel or a prologue. I see, or saw,
cities and temples with people moving about them, George and you among
them, also that old priest, Harut. You will laugh, but my recollection
is that you stood in some relationship to me, either that of father or
brother."

"Or perhaps a cousin," I suggested.

"Or perhaps a cousin," she repeated, smiling, "or a great friend; at any
rate something very intimate. As for George, I don't know what he was,
or Harut either. But the odd thing is that little yellow man, Hans, whom
I only saw once living for a few minutes that I can remember, comes more
clearly back to my mind than any of you. He was a dwarf, much stouter
than when I saw him the other day, but very like. I recall him curiously
dressed with feathers and holding an ivory rod, seated upon a stool
at the feet of a great personage--a king, I think. The king asked him
questions, and everyone listened to his answers. That is all, except
that the scenes seemed to be flooded