Another dream that troubled me originated in the huge pyramid of bones.  I dreamed that they all stood up and marched past me in thousands and tens of thousands—­in squadrons, companies, and armies—­with the sunlight shining through their hollow ribs.  On they rushed across the plain to Kor, their imperial home; I saw the drawbridges fall before them, and heard their bones clank through the brazen gates.  On they went, up the splendid streets, on past fountains, palaces, and temples such as the eye of man never saw.  But there was no man to greet them in the market-place, and no woman’s face appeared at the windows—­only a bodiless voice went before them, calling:  “Fallen is Imperial Kor!—­fallen!—­fallen! fallen!” On, right through the city, marched those gleaming phalanxes, and the rattle of their bony tread echoed through the silent air as they pressed grimly on.  They passed through the city and clomb the wall, and marched along the great roadway that was made upon the wall, till at length they once more reached the drawbridge.  Then, as the sun was sinking, they returned again towards their sepulchre, and luridly his light shone in the sockets of their empty eyes, throwing gigantic shadows of their bones, that stretched away, and crept and crept like huge spiders’ legs as their armies wound across the plain.  Then they came to the cave, and once more one by one flung themselves in unending files through the hole into the pit of bones, and I awoke, shuddering, to see She, who had evidently been standing between my couch and Leo’s, glide like a shadow from the room.

After this I slept again, soundly this time, till morning, when I awoke much refreshed, and got up.  At last the hour drew near at which, according to Ayesha, Leo was to awake, and with it came She herself, as usual, veiled.

“Thou shalt see, oh Holly,” she said; “presently shall he awake in his right mind, the fever having left him.”

Hardly were the words out of her mouth, when Leo turned round and stretched out his arms, yawned, opened his eyes, and, perceiving a female form bending over him, threw his arms round her and kissed her, mistaking her, perhaps, for Ustane.  At any rate, he said, in Arabic, “Hullo, Ustane, why have you tied your head up like that?  Have you got the toothache?” and then, in English, “I say, I’m awfully hungry.  Why, Job, you old son of a gun, where the deuce have we got to now—­eh?”

“I am sure I wish I knew, Mr. Leo,” said Job, edging suspiciously past Ayesha, whom he still regarded with the utmost disgust and horror, being by no means sure that she was not an animated corpse; “but you mustn’t talk, Mr. Leo, you’ve been very ill, and given us a great deal of hanxiety, and, if this lady,” looking at Ayesha, “would be so kind as to move, I’ll bring you your soup.”

This turned Leo’s attention to the “lady,” who was standing by in perfect silence.  “Hullo!” he said; “that is not Ustane—­where is Ustane?”