“Nay,” she gasped, “that I will not; this shall not be endured to no end.  I die with them!”

Then it was that I saw the greatness of this woman’s heart; for in the dark, and notwithstanding the terrors we had passed and the awfulness of our state, she clung to me and clambered on up that dread passage.  On we clambered, hand in hand, with bursting hearts, till there, by the mercy or the anger of the Gods, at length we saw the faint light of the moon, creeping through the little opening in the pyramid.  One struggle more, now the hole was gained, and like a breath from heaven, the sweet night air played upon our brows.  I climbed through, and, standing on a pile of stones, lifted and dragged Cleopatra after me.  She fell to the ground and then sank down upon it motionless.

I pressed upon the turning stone with trembling hands.  It swung to and caught, leaving no mark of the secret place of entry.  Then I leapt down and, having pushed away the pile of stones, looked on Cleopatra.  She had swooned, and notwithstanding the dust and grime upon her face, it was so pale that at first I believed she must be dead.  But placing my hand upon her heart I felt it stir beneath; and, being spent, I flung myself down beside her upon the sand, to gather up my strength again.

CHAPTER XII

OF THE COMING BACK OF HARMACHIS; OF THE GREETING OF CHARMION; AND OF THE ANSWER OF CLEOPATRA TO QUINTUS DELLIUS, THE AMBASSADOR OF ANTONY THE TRIUMVIR

Presently I lifted myself, and, laying the head of Egypt’s Queen upon my knee, strove to call her back to life.  How fair she seemed, even in her disarray, her long hair streaming down her breast! how deadly fair she seemed in the faint light—­this woman the story of whose beauty and whose sin shall outlive the solid mass of the mighty pyramid that towered over us!  The heaviness of her swoon had smoothed away the falseness of her face, and nothing was left but the divine stamp of Woman’s richest loveliness, softened by shadows of the night and dignified by the cast of deathlike sleep.  I gazed upon her and all my heart went out to her; it seemed that I did but love her more because of the depth of the treasons to which I had sunk to reach her, and because of the terrors we had outfaced together.  Weary and spent with fears and the pangs of guilt, my heart sought hers for rest, for now she alone was left to me.  She had sworn to wed me also, and with the treasure we had won we would make Egypt strong and free her from her foes, and all should yet be well.  Ah! could I have seen the picture that was to come, how, and in what place and circumstance, once again this very woman’s head should be laid upon my knee, pale with that cast of death!  Ah! could I have seen!

I chafed her hand between my hands.  I bent down and kissed her on the lips, and at my kiss she woke.  She woke with a little sob of fear—­a shiver ran along her delicate limbs, and she stared upon my face with wide eyes.