l she was dead. Then it burst, and its light was
extinguished in darkness for ever."

Eventually Sir Samuel's eye brightened for the Tudor rose decoration, in
the ruined chateau, relic of an alliance between an English princess and
the House of Les Baux; and Lady Turnour didn't interrupt once when the
guide told of the latest important discovery in the City of Ghosts.
"Near the altar of the Virgin here," he began, in just the right, hushed
tone, "they found in a tomb the body of a beautiful young girl. There
she lay, as the tomb was opened, just for an instant--long enough for
the eye to take in the picture--as lovely as the loveliest lady of Les
Baux, that famed princess Cecilie, known through Provence as Passe-Rose.
Her long golden hair was in two great plaits, one over either shoulder,
and her hands were crossed upon her breast, holding a Book of Hours. But
in a second, as the air touched her, she was gone like a dream; her
sweet young face, white as milk, and half smiling, her long dark
eyelashes, even the Book of Hours, all crumbled into dust, fine as
powder. Only the golden hair, tied with blue ribbon, was left; and when
you go to Arles you can see it in the Museum of Monsieur Mistral."

"Make a note of hair for Arles, Sam," said her ladyship, gravely; and
just as solemnly he obeyed, scribbling a few words in the pocket
memorandum-book in which the poor man industriously puts down all the
things which his wife thinks he ought to remember.

"Anything else interesting ever been found here?" she wanted to know.
"Any jewels or things of that sort?"

I passed the question on to the guide.

Many things had been found, he said: coins, vases, pottery, and mosaics.
Occasionally such things were turned up, though usually, nowadays, of no
great value; but it was the hope of finding something which brought the
gipsies. Often there were gypsies at Les Baux. They would go to Les
Saintes Maries, the place of the sacred church where the two sainted
Maries came ashore from Palestine in their little boat, and they would
pray to Sarah, whose tomb was also in that wonderful church. Had we seen
it yet? No? But it was not far. Many people went, though the great day
was on May twenty-fourth, when the Archbishop of Aix lowered the ark of
relics from the roof, and healed those of the sick who were true
believers. It was for Sarah, though, that the gipsies made their
pilgrimages. They thought that prayers at her tomb would bring them