Such beauty caused the soul to drink nepenthes of forgetfulness.
Hardships, wounds, blood, pain, menace of death faded under that
spell. That the Legionaries were trapped at the bottom of a vast
rabbit-warren, with swarms of Moslem ferrets soon to rush upon them,
now seemed to have no significance.
Tranced, "indifferent to Fate," the adventurers peered on greater
wealth of jewels than ever elsewhere in this world's history had been
garnered in one place. The liquid light of the hoard flashed strange
radiances on their tanned, deep-lined faces, now smeared with sweat
and dust, with powder-grime and blood. Their eyes were beholding
unutterable rainbows, flashings and burning glows like those of the
Moslem's own Jebel Radhwa, or Mountain of Paradise.
Each of these jewels--several million gems, at the least
computation--what a story it might have told! What a tale of remotest
antiquity, of wild adventures and romance, of love, hate, death! What
a revelation of harem, palace, treasury, of cavern, temple, throne! Of
Hindu ghat, Egyptian pyramid, Persian garden, Afghan fastness, Chinese
pagoda, Burmese minaret! Of enchanted moonlight, blazing sun, dim
starlight! Of passion and of pain!
On what proud hand of Sultan, emir, cadi, prince, had this huge ruby
burned? On what beloved breast or brow of princess, nautch-girl,
concubine--yes, maybe of slave exalted to the purple--had that
fire-gleaming diamond blazed?
From Roman times, from Greek, from ancient Jerusalem, from the
fire-breathing shrines of Baal at long-dead Carthage, perhaps, this
topaz might have come.
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