voices sounded like one
strong, sweet, high chord, unbroken and drawn out.

Nehushta wandered in the broad paths alone. The dry warm air of the
summer's evening had no chill in it, and though a fine woven mantle of
purple from Srinagur hung loosely from her shoulders, she needed not to
draw it about her. The delicate folds of her upper tunic fell closely
around her to her knees, and were gathered at the waist by a magnificent
belt of wrought gold and pearls; the long sleeves, drawn in at the wrist
by clasps of pearls, almost covered her slender hands; and as she walked
her delicate feet moved daintily in rich embroidered sandals with high
golden heels, below the folds of the wide trousers of white and gold
embroidery, gathered in at the ankle. Upon her head the stiff linen
tiara of spotless white sat proudly as a royal crown, the folds of it
held by a single pearl of price, and from beneath it her magnificent
hair rolled down below her waist in dark smooth waves.

There was a terrace that looked eastward from the gardens. Thither
Nehushta bent her steps, slowly, as though in deep thought, and when she
reached the smooth marble balustrade, she leaned over it and let her
dark eyes rest on the quiet landscape. The peace of the evening
descended upon her; the birds of the day ceased singing with the growing
darkness; and slowly, out of the plain, the yellow moon soared up and
touched the river and the meadows with mystic light; while far off, in
the rose-thickets of the gardens, the first notes of a single
nightingale floated upon the scented breeze, swelling and trilling,
quivering and falling again, in a glory of angelic song. The faint air
fanned her cheek, the odours of the box and the myrtle and the roses
intoxicated her senses, and as the splendid shield of the rising moon
cast its broad light into her dreaming eyes, her heart overflowed, and
Nehushta the princess lifted up her voice and sang an ancient song of
love, in the tongue of her people, to a soft minor melody, that sounded
like a sigh from the southern desert.

_"Come unto me, my beloved, in the warmth of the darkness, come--
Rise, and hasten thy footsteps, to be with me at night-time, come!

"I wait in the darkness for him, and the sand of the desert whirling
Is blown at the door of my tent which is open toward the desert.

"My ear in the darkness listeth for the sound of his coming nearer,
Mine eyes watch for him and rest not, for I would