ngth I rose and crept back to this
place where we stand, for here I could see the friendly light, and being
outworn, laid me down and slept.

"At the first break of day I crawled from the tomb, followed that same
road by which I had entered, though I found it hard to climb up through
the entrance hole.

"No living thing was to be seen in the valley, except a great night bird
flitting to its haunt. I was parched with thirst, and knowing that in
this dry place I soon must perish, I glided from rock to rock towards
the mouth of the valley, thinking to find some other grave or cranny
where I might lie hid till night came again and I could descend to the
plain and drink. But, Olaf, before I had gone many steps I discovered
fresh food, milk and water laid upon a rock, and though I feared lest
they might be poisoned, ate and drank of them. When I knew that they
were wholesome I thought that some friend must have set them there to
satisfy my wants, though I knew not who the friend could be. Afterwards
I learned that this food was an offering to the ghosts of the dead.
Among our forefathers in forgotten generations it was, I know, the
custom to make such offerings, since in their blindness they believed
that the spirts of their beloved needed sustenance as their bodies once
had done. Doubtless the memory of the rite still survives; at least,
to this day the offerings are made. Indeed, when it was found that they
were not made in vain, more and more of them were brought, so that I
have lacked nothing.

"Here then I have dwelt for many moons among the dust of men departed,
only now and again wandering out at night. Once or twice folk have seen
me when I ventured to the plains, and I have been tempted to speak to
them and ask their help. But always they fled away, believing me to
be the ghost of some bygone queen. Indeed, to speak truth, Olaf, this
companionship with spirits, for spirits do dwell in these tombs--I have
seen them, I tell you I have seen them--has so worked upon my soul that
at times I feel as though I were already of their company. Moreover, I
knew that I could not live long. The loneliness was sucking up my life
as the dry sand sucks water. Had you not come, Olaf, within some few
days or weeks I should have died."

Now I spoke for the first time, saying,

"And did you wish to die, Heliodore?"

"No. Before the war between Musa and my father, Magas, news came to us
from Byzantium that Irene had killed you. All