d human form--a
hideous sight. It was dark and dried; it was fixed in a sitting
posture, with its hands resting on its knees, and its hollow eyes
looking forward. On its head was the mockery of a wreath of flowers,
while from its heart there projected the handle and half of the blade
of a knife which had been thrust there. What was the meaning of this
knife? It seemed to tell of a violent death. Yet the flowers must
surely be a mark of honor. A violent death with honor, and the
embalmed remains--these things suggested nothing else than the horrid
thought of a human sacrifice. I looked away with eager and terrible
curiosity. I saw all the niches, hundreds upon hundreds, all filled
with these fearful occupants. I turned again with a sinking heart to
Almah. Her face was full of anguish.

"This is my duty," said she. "Every jom I must come here and crown
these victims with fresh flowers."

A feeling of sickening horror overwhelmed me. Almah had spoken these
words and stood looking at me with a face of woe. This, then, was that
daily task from which she was wont to return in such sadness--an
abhorrent task to her, and one to which familiarity had never
reconciled her. What was she doing here? What dark fate was it that
thus bound this child of light to these children of darkness? or why
was she thus compelled to perform a service from which all her nature
revolted? I read in her face at this moment a horror equal to my own;
and at the sight of her distress my own was lessened, and there arose
within me a profound sympathy and a strong desire to do something to
alleviate her misery.

"This is no place for you," continued Almah. "Go, and I will soon join
you."

"No," said I, using her language after my own broken fashion--"no, I
will not go--I will stay, I will help, if you will permit."

She looked at me earnestly, and seemed to see that my resolution was
firmly fixed, and that I was not to be dissuaded from it.

"Very well," said she; "if you do stay and help me, it will be a great
relief."

With these simple words she proceeded to carry out her work. At the
foot of the pyramid there was a heap of wreaths made out of fresh
flowers, and these were to be placed by her on the heads of the
embalmed corpses.

"This work," said she, "is considered here the highest and most
honorable that can be performed. It is given to me out of kindness,
and they cannot understand that I can have any other feelings in the
performance