“Nonsense,” I broke in angrily, “nonsense!”

“Very well, sir,” said Job, “it isn’t my place to differ from you, sir, but if you happen to be going anywhere, sir, I should be obliged if you could manage to take me with you, seeing that I shall be glad to have a friendly face to look at when the time comes, just to help one through, as it were.  And now, sir, I’ll be getting the breakfast,” and he went, leaving me in a very uncomfortable state of mind.  I was deeply attached to old Job, who was one of the best and honestest men I have ever had to do with in any class of life, and really more of a friend than a servant, and the mere idea of anything happening to him brought a lump into my throat.  Beneath all his ludicrous talk I could see that he himself was quite convinced that something was going to happen, and though in most cases these convictions turn out to be utter moonshine—­and this particular one especially was to be amply accounted for by the gloomy and unaccustomed surroundings in which its victim was placed—­still it did more or less carry a chill to my heart, as any dread that is obviously a genuine object of belief is apt to do, however absurd the belief may be.  Presently the breakfast arrived, and with it Leo, who had been taking a walk outside the cave—­to clear his mind, he said—­and very glad I was to see both, for they gave me a respite from my gloomy thoughts.  After breakfast we went for another walk, and watched some of the Amahagger sowing a plot of ground with the grain from which they make their beer.  This they did in scriptural fashion—­a man with a bag made of goat’s hide fastened round his waist walking up and down the plot and scattering the seed as he went.  It was a positive relief to see one of these dreadful people do anything so homely and pleasant as sow a field, perhaps because it seemed to link them, as it were, with the rest of humanity.

As we were returning Billali met us, and informed us that it was She’s pleasure that we should wait upon her, and accordingly we entered her presence, not without trepidation, for Ayesha was certainly an exception to the rule.  Familiarity with her might and did breed passion and wonder and horror, but it certainly did not breed contempt.

We were as usual shown in by the mutes, and after these had retired Ayesha unveiled, and once more bade Leo embrace her, which, notwithstanding his heart-searchings of the previous night, he did with more alacrity and fervour than in strictness courtesy required.

She laid her white hand on his head, and looked him fondly in the eyes.  “Dost thou wonder, my Kallikrates,” she said, “when thou shalt call me all thine own, and when we shall of a truth be for one another and to one another?  I will tell thee.  First, must thou be even as I am, not immortal indeed, for that I am not, but so cased and hardened against the attacks of Time that his arrows shall glance from the armour of thy vigorous life