to be matter of wonder that his contemporaries, even the most royal,
could have been jealous of his love.

Not only have we the man's business, but it is finished; and judging
from the satisfaction discernible on his face as he raised the lamp and
turned to depart, the result must have been according to his best hope.
He took off his robe, and tossed it to his slaves; then he laid a hand
upon the edge of the sarcophagus preparatory to climbing out. At the
moment, while giving a last look about him, an emerald, smoothly cut,
and of great size, larger indeed than a full-grown pomegranate, caught
his eyes in its place loose upon the floor. He turned back, and taking
it up, examined it carefully; while thus engaged his glance dropped to
the sword almost at his feet. The sparkle of the brilliants, and the
fire-flame of the great ruby in the grip, drew him irresistibly, and he
stood considering.

Directly he spoke in a low voice:

"No one has been here since"--

He hesitated--glanced hurriedly around to again assure himself it was
not possible to be overheard--then finished the sentence:

"No one has been here _since I came a thousand years ago_."

At the words so strange, so inexplicable upon any theory of nature and
common experience, the lamp shook in his hand. Involuntarily he shrank
from the admission, though to himself. But recovering, he
repeated: