At length I heard her footstep at the door, and she entered, breathing heavily, for she bore a sack of clothing in her arms. Had it not been for that fierce desire of vengeance which from time to time flashed across my tormented mind as the lightning over a midnight sea, methinks my reason had left me in that dark hour. “Rest thou, then, here, Harmachis, while I make these matters ready and, Harmachis, grieve not overmuch there are others who should grieve more heavily than thou.” And she went, leaving me alone with my agony which rent me like a torture-bed. “It is well,” I answered wearily “little do I reck the issue.” Perhaps he will guess somewhat or, perhaps, he will not guess at the least, the Syrian merchant shall safely pass the lines. Brennus is officer of the guard to-night, and Brennus is a friend to me and thee. He shall give thee passage to Alexandria for to him thou wilt seem but as a merchant going on the business of thy trade. Now, I will find thee the garb of a Syrian merchant, and cloak thee, as I know how, and furnish thee with a letter to the captain of the galley. To-morrow, ere the dawn, a galley that but yesterday came from Alexandria, bearing fruit and stores, sails thither again, and its captain is known to me, but to thee he is not known. Thou must fly-before the coming of the light must thou fly. There will be time for us twain to grieve, if not to talk, in all the heavy coming years. “It would be sweet, Harmachis, and yet this-Vengeance is an arrow that in falling oft pierces him who shot it. Ay-the chance of vengeance! It would be sweet to be avenged!” Thou hast lost all save life: but while life remains, hope remains also, and with hope the chance of vengeance.” Harmachis, give her not this last triumph over thee.

Listen, Harmachis! Thou didst hear what that false and tigerish woman said-to-morrow she hands thee over to the murderers!” Oh! why wouldst thou not be warned? Then hadst thou been great and happy, and not as now. “Weep not, Harmachis!” she sobbed, kneeling at my side. Then Charmion drew near me, and I saw that she, too, was weeping.

For I loved this woman, to whom I had given all and she at this moment-she was-Ah! I could not bear to think of it and in my utter agony, my heart burst in a river of tears such as are terrible to weep! For this I had betrayed my oaths for this I had told the secret of the pyramid for this I had lost my Crown, my Honour, and, perchance, my hope of Heaven! Could there be another man in the wide world so steeped in sorrow as I was that night? Surely not one! Where should I turn? What could I do? And even through the tempest of my torn heart the bitter voice of jealousy called aloud. FOR some while I sat with bowed head, and the last bitterness of shame sank into my soul.

Harmachis cleopatra