lightful a
thing it is. And that was the very thing that I was trying to guard
against."

"Well," said I, "and what is the result? Do you know what their
decision is?"

"Yes," said Layelah.

"What is it?" I asked, eagerly.

Layelah hesitated.

"What is it?" I cried again, full of impatience.

"I'm afraid it will not sound very pleasant to you," said Layelah,
"but at any rate your life is spared for the present. They have
decided to give you what they call the greatest possible honors and
distinctions."

Layelah paused, and looked at me earnestly. For my part these words
sounded ominous, and were full of the darkest meaning.

"Tell me all," I said; "don't keep me in suspense."

"Well," said Layelah, "I'm afraid you will think it hard; but I must
tell you. I will tell it, therefore, as briefly and formally as
possible.

"First, then, they have decreed the blessing of separation. You and
Almah must now be parted, since this is regarded as the highest bliss
of lovers.

"Secondly, they have decreed the blessing of poverty. All these
luxuries will be taken away, and you will be raised to an equality in
this respect with the great paupers.

"Thirdly, you are to have the blessing of darkness. You are to be
removed from this troublesome and vexatious light, which here is
regarded as a curse, and henceforth live without it.

"Fourthly, the next decree is the high reward of imprisonment. You are
to be delivered from the evils of liberty, and shut up in a dark
cavern, from which it will be impossible to escape or to communicate
with anyone outside.

"Fifthly, you are to associate with the greatest of the paupers, the
class that is the most honored and influential. You will be present at
all their highest councils, and will have the privilege of perpetual
intercourse with those reverend men. They will tell you of the joys of
poverty, the happiness of darkness, and the bliss of death."

Layelah paused, and looked at me earnestly.

"Is there anything more?" I gasped.

"No," said she. "Is not that enough? Some were in favor of bestowing
immediate death, but they were outvoted by the others. You surely
cannot regret that."

Layelah's words sounded like the words of a mocking demon. Yet she did
not wish to distress me; she had merely stated my sentence in formal
language, without any attempt to soften its tremendous import. As for
me, I was overwhelmed with despair. There was but one thought in my
mind--it was