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Updated: June 25, 2025


A warm flush tinted Sah-luma's olive skin, his hands clenched and unclenched slowly as though he held some struggling, prisoned thing, and raising his head he looked at his companion full and steady with a singularly solemn and reproving expression in his luminous eyes.

The blood coursed more swiftly through his veins, he felt his face flush with the impulsive heat and ardor of the moment, he laughed as he set the cup down empty, and throwing himself back on his luxurious couch, his eyes flashed on Sah-luma's with a bright, comprehensive glance of complete confidence and affection.

He was roused from his distressful cogitation by Sah-luma's voice speaking again half gayly, half sadly: "Nay, nay, my friend! ... we cannot leave the City, we two alone and unguided, for beyond the gates is the desert wide and bare, with scarce a spring of cool water in many weary miles, and beyond the desert is a forest, gloomy and tiger haunted, wherein the footsteps of man have seldom penetrated.

All those who had been within hearing distance of Sah-luma's voice appeared highly elated, as though they had enjoyed some special privilege and pleasure, ... to be reproved by the Laureate was evidently considered better than being praised by any one else.

On, still on he went, treading closely in Sah-luma's footsteps and wistfully noting how often the myrtle-garlanded head of his friend drooped caressingly toward Lysia's dusky perfumed locks, whence those jewelled serpents' fangs darted flashingly upward like light from darkness. On, still on, till at last he found himself in a grand vestibule, built entirely of sparkling red granite.

Chuckling hoarsely he ambled onward, and chancing to, catch the wondering backward glance of Pheos, he made expressive signs with his fingers in derision of Sah-luma's sweeping mantle, which now, allowed to fall to its full length, trailed along the marble floor with a rich, rustling sound, the varied light sparkling on it at every point and making it look like a veritable shower of gold.

I bring with me here a stranger from far-off lands, one to whom Sah-luma's name is as a star in the desert!

Zephoranim appeared good-naturedly surprised at this action, and eyed him somewhat scrutinizingly as he said: "Thou art not of Sah-luma's divine calling assuredly, fair sir, else thou wouldst hardly stoop to a mere crowned head like mine! Soldiers and statesmen may bend the knee to their chosen rulers, but to whom shall poets bend?

For the dead Sah-luma's eyes grew into the semblance of his own eyes! ... the dead Sah-luma's face smiled spectrally back at him in the image of his own face! ... it was as though he beheld the Picture of himself, slain and reflected in a magician's mirror!

His hand trembled as he took the goblet, and he drank half its contents thirstily, then imitating Sah-luma's example, he returned it to her with a profound salutation. Her eyes dwelt meditatively upon him. "What a dark, still, melancholy countenance is thine, Sir Theos!" she said abruptly "Thou art, for sure, a man of strongly repressed and concentrated passions, ... 'tis a nature I love!

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