“There is the cemetery,” said her guide. His whisper seemed to her a long way off. Nor did she see the city of the dead till they were in its streets, which loomed mysterious. The very stars looked sinister above the frowning domes, from which a blacker darkness seemed to emanate. The many crescents looked like horns against the sky. Bats flitted past her; from the distance came a jackal’s howl. What had she come to do there? She could not remember. “To pray,” she told herself, but that meant nothing. She strove with all her might to recollect. Then in a flash remembrance came to her; it bore her on, excited, to the mausoleum. She dismounted, and then, upon the threshold, she forgot once more. She entered, shuddering, too dazed to question why the gate was left ajar, and turned instinctively towards the women’s quarters. A step or two and she stood still in deadly terror, hardly venturing to breathe. There was a light upon the men’s side; beasts were tethered in the court; she heard a sound of digging and men’s voices. Her thought was, “They expect me, and have dug a grave.” As soon as fear would let her, she fled back to where the guide was waiting.