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Updated: June 29, 2025
Then rising wearily, he sighed for Goliba's dead daughter, and weighted by his rich robes, slowly strode across to the arched entrance from which the light streamed forth, and as he set foot upon its threshold every proud head bowed to earth in deep, abject obeisance.
As the white-bearded sage uttered these words, I noticed that from behind one of the great marble pillars of the colonnade that surrounded the courtyard of Goliba's fine house a white robe flitted for an instant, disappearing in the fast-falling gloom.
"Why speak so despondently?" I inquired, surprised. "As Naba of Mo all things are possible." "Alas! not everything," he said, with an air of melancholy. "Well, tell me," I urged. "Why are you so downcast?" "I I have lost Liola," he answered hoarsely. "Truth to tell, Scarsmere, I loved Goliba's daughter." "She is absolutely beautiful," I admitted.
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