We three and Ustane were sitting round a fire in the cave just before bedtime, when suddenly the woman, who had been brooding in silence, rose, and laid her hand upon Leo’s golden curls, and addressed him.  Even now, when I shut my eyes, I can see her proud, imperial form, clothed alternately in dense shadow and the red flickering of the fire, as she stood, the wild centre of as weird a scene as I ever witnessed, and delivered herself of the burden of her thoughts and forebodings in a kind of rhythmical speech that ran something as follows:—­

Thou art my chosen—­I have waited for thee from the beginning!  Thou art very beautiful.  Who hath hair like unto thee, or skin so white?  Who hath so strong an arm, who is so much a man?  Thine eyes are the sky, and the light in them is the stars.  Thou art perfect and of a happy face, and my heart turned itself towards thee.  Ay, when mine eyes fell upon thee I did desire thee,—­ Then did I take thee to me—­oh, thou Beloved, And hold thee fast, lest harm should come unto thee.  Ay, I did cover thine head with mine hair, lest the sun should strike it; And altogether was I thine, and thou wast altogether mine.  And so it went for a little space, till Time was in labour with an evil Day; And then what befell on that day?  Alas! my Beloved, I know not!  But I, I saw thee no more—­I, I was lost in the blackness.  And she who is stronger did take thee; ay, she who is fairer than Ustane.  Yet didst thou turn and call upon me, and let thine eyes wander in the darkness.  But, nevertheless, she prevailed by Beauty, and led thee down horrible places, And then, ah! then my Beloved——­

Here this extraordinary woman broke off her speech, or chant, which was so much musical gibberish to us, for all that we understood of what she was talking about, and seemed to fix her flashing eyes upon the deep shadow before her.  Then in a moment they acquired a vacant, terrified stare, as though they were striving to realise some half-seen horror.  She lifted her hand from Leo’s head, and pointed into the darkness.  We all looked, and could see nothing; but she saw something, or thought she did, and something evidently that affected even her iron nerves, for, without another sound, down she fell senseless between us.

Leo, who was growing really attached to this remarkable young person, was in a great state of alarm and distress, and I, to be perfectly candid, was in a condition not far removed from superstitious fear.  The whole scene was an uncanny one.

Presently, however, she recovered, and sat up with an extraordinary convulsive shudder.

“What didst thou mean, Ustane?” asked Leo, who, thanks to years of tuition, spoke Arabic very prettily.

“Nay, my chosen,” she answered, with a little forced laugh.  “I did but sing unto thee after the fashion of my people.  Surely, I meant nothing.  Now could I speak of that which is not yet?”

“And what didst thou see, Ustane?” I asked, looking her sharply in the face.