But I merely shook my head, my excitement was as dead as ditch-water, and my distaste for the prolongation of my mortal span had come back upon me more strongly than ever.  Besides, we neither of us knew what the effects of the fire might be.  The result upon She had not been of an encouraging nature, and of the exact causes that produced that result we were, of course, ignorant.

“Well, my boy,” I said, “we cannot stop here till we go the way of those two,” and I pointed to the little heap under the white garment and to the stiffing corpse of poor Job.  “If we are going we had better go.  But, by the way, I expect that the lamps have burnt out,” and I took one up and looked at it, and sure enough it had.

“There is some more oil in the vase,” said Leo indifferently—­“if it is not broken, at least.”

I examined the vessel in question—­it was intact.  With a trembling hand I filled the lamps—­luckily there was still some of the linen wick unburnt.  Then I lit them with one of our wax matches.  While I did so we heard the pillar of fire approaching once more as it went on its never-ending journey, if, indeed, it was the same pillar that passed and repassed in a circle.

“Let’s see it come once more,” said Leo; “we shall never look upon its like again in this world.”

It seemed a bit of idle curiosity, but somehow I shared it, and so we waited till, turning slowly round upon its own axis, it had flamed and thundered by; and I remember wondering for how many thousands of years this same phenomenon had been taking place in the bowels of the earth, and for how many more thousands it would continue to take place.  I wondered also if any mortal eyes would ever again mark its passage, or any mortal ears be thrilled and fascinated by the swelling volume of its majestic sound.  I do not think that they will.  I believe that we are the last human beings who will ever see that unearthly sight.  Presently it had gone, and we too turned to go.

But before we did so we each took Job’s cold hand in ours and shook it.  It was a rather ghastly ceremony, but it was the only means in our power of showing our respect to the faithful dead and of celebrating his obsequies.  The heap beneath the white garment we did not uncover.  We had no wish to look upon that terrible sight again.  But we went to the pile of rippling hair that had fallen from her in the agony of that hideous change which was worse than a thousand natural deaths, and each of us drew from it a shining lock, and these locks we still have, the sole memento that is left to us of Ayesha as we knew her in the fulness of her grace and glory.  Leo pressed the perfumed hair to his lips.

“She called to me not to forget her,” he said hoarsely; “and swore that we should meet again.  By Heaven!  I never will forget her.  Here I swear that if we live to get out of this, I will not for all my days have anything to say to another living woman, and that wherever I go I will wait for her as faithfully as she waited for me.”