But of all this nothing remains.
What comes back to me is a picture of the Egyptian prince, Magas, and myself seated at some meal in a chamber overlooking the moonlit palace garden.

We were alone, and this noble, white-bearded man, hook-nosed and hawk-eyed, was telling me of the troubles of his countrymen, the Christian Copts of Egypt.
"Look on me, sir," he said.

"As I could prove to you, were it worth while, and as many could bear witness, for the records have been kept, I am a descendant in the true line from the ancient Pharaohs of my country.

Moreover, my daughter, through her Grecian mother, is sprung from the Ptolemies.

Our race is Christian, and has been for these three hundred years, although it was among the last to be converted.