--L. H. H.
About the last tomb we visited I must, however, say one word, for its
contents spoke even more eloquently to the human sympathies than those
of the first. It had but two occupants, and they lay together on a
single shelf. I withdrew the grave-cloths and there, clasped heart to
heart, were a young man and a blooming girl. Her head rested on his arm,
and his lips were pressed against her brow. I opened the man's linen
robe, and there over his heart was a dagger-wound, and beneath the
woman's fair breast was a like cruel stab, through which her life had
ebbed away. On the rock above was an inscription in three words. Ayesha
translated it. It was "_Wedded in Death_."
What was the life-story of these two, who, of a truth, were beautiful in
their lives, and in their death were not divided?
I closed my eyelids, and imagination, taking up the thread of thought,
shot its swift shuttle back across the ages, weaving a picture on their
blackness so real and vivid in its details that I could almost for a
moment think that I had triumphed o'er the Past, and that my spirit's
eyes had pierced the mystery of Time.
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