of the future to
those who dare to kneel beside it uncompanioned from night till dawn.
Yet I have often done so, but to me it has never spoken, though none
long to learn the future more."

I made no answer, nor did she seem to expect any, for she went on at
once--"Nay, bide here and let us have done with all sad and solemn
thoughts. We three will sup together as of old, and for awhile forget
our fears and cares, and be happy as children who know not sin and
death, or that change which is death indeed. Oros, await my lord
without. Papave, I will call thee later to disrobe me. Till then let
none disturb us."

The room that Ayesha inhabited was not very large, as we saw by the
hanging lamps with which it was lighted. It was plainly though richly
furnished, the rock walls being covered with tapestries, and the tables
and chairs inlaid with silver, but the only token that here a woman had
her home was that about it stood several bowls of flowers. One of these,
I remember, was filled with the delicate harebells I had admired, dug up
roots and all, and set in moss.

"A poor place," said Ayesha, "yet better than that in which I dwelt
those two thousand years awaiting thy coming, Leo, for, see, beyond
it is a garden, wherein I sit," and she sank down upon a couch by the
table, motioning to us to take our places opposite to her.

The meal was simple; for us, eggs boiled hard and cold venison; for her,
milk, some little cakes of flour, and mountain berries.

Presently Leo rose and threw off his gorgeous, purple-broidered robe,
which he still wore, and cast upon a chair the crook-headed sceptre
that Oros had again thrust into his hand. Ayesha smiled as he did so,
saying--"It would seem that thou holdest these sacred emblems in but
small respect."

"Very small," he answered. "Thou heardest my words in the Sanctuary,
Ayesha, so let us make a pact. Thy religion I do not understand, but I
understand my own, and not even for thy sake will I take part in what I
hold to be idolatry."

Now I thought that she would be angered by this plain speaking, but she
only bowed her head and answered meekly--"Thy will is mine, Leo, though
it will not be easy always to explain thy absence from the ceremonies in
the temple. Yet thou hast a right to thine own faith, which doubtless is
mine also."

"How can that be?" he asked, looking up.

"Because all great Faiths are the same, changed a little to suit the
needs of passing times and peoples.