Suffice it for you to know that the doom of Isis fell upon the lost Kallikrates, her priest forsworn, and that on me also fell her doom, who must dwell here, dead yet living, till he return again and the play begins afresh.
"Stranger," she went on in a softer voice, "perchance your faith, whate'er it be, parades a hell to terrify its worshippers and give strength to the arms of its prophesying priests, who swear they hold the keys of doom or of the eternal joys.

I see you sign assent" (I had nodded at her extremely accurate guess) "and therefore can understand that in such a hell as this, here upon the earth I have dwelt for some two thousand years, expiating the crime of Powers above me whereof I am but the hand and instrument, since those Powers which decreed that I should love, decree also that I must avenge that love." She sank down upon the couch as though exhausted by emotion, of which I could only guess the reasons, hiding her face in her hands.

Presently she let them fall again and continued, "Of these woes ask me no more.

They sleep till the hour of their resurrection, which I think draws nigh; indeed, I thought that you perchance----But let that be.

'Twas near the mark; nearer, Allan, than you know, not in it! Therefore leave them to their sleep as I would if I might--ah! if I might, whose companions they are throughout the weary ages.