s dying. He was senseless, and breathing heavily, but
his lips were quivering, and every now and again a little shudder ran
down his frame. I knew enough of doctoring to see that in another hour
he would be beyond the reach of earthly help--perhaps in another five
minutes. How I cursed my selfishness and the folly that had kept me
lingering by Ayesha's side while my dear boy lay dying! Alas and alas!
how easily the best of us are lighted down to evil by the gleam of
a woman's eyes! What a wicked wretch was I! Actually, for the last
half-hour I had scarcely thought of Leo, and this, be it remembered,
of the man who for twenty years had been my dearest companion, and the
chief interest of my existence. And now, perhaps, it was too late!

I wrung my hands, and glanced round. Ustane was sitting by the couch,
and in her eyes burnt the dull light of despair. Job was blubbering--I
am sorry I cannot name his distress by any more delicate word--audibly
in the corner. Seeing my eye fixed upon him, he went outside to give way
to his grief in the passage. Obviously the only hope lay in Ayesha. She,
and she alone--unless, indeed, she was an imposter, which I could
not believe--could save him. I would go and implore her to come. As
I started to do so, however, Job came flying into the room, his hair
literally standing on end with terror.

"Oh, God help us, sir!" he ejaculated in a frightened whisper, "here's a
corpse a-coming sliding down the passage!"

For a moment I was puzzled, but presently, of course, it struck me that
he must have seen Ayesha, wrapped in her grave-like garment, and been
deceived by the extraordinary undulating smoothness of her walk into a
belief that she was a white ghost gliding towards him. Indeed, at that
very moment the question was settled, for Ayesha herself was in the
apartment, or rather cave. Job turned, and saw her sheeted form, and
then, with a convulsive howl of "Here it comes!" sprang into a corner,
and jammed his face against the wall, and Ustane, guessing whose the
dread presence must be, prostrated herself upon her face.

"Thou comest in a good time, Ayesha," I said, "for my boy lies at the
point of death."

"So," she said softly; "provided he be not dead, it is no matter, for I
can bring him back to life, my Holly. Is that man there thy servant,
and is that the method wherewith thy servants greet strangers in thy
country?"

"He is frightened of thy garb--it hath a death-like air," I answ