George's blood was pounding through his veins, and a curious
exhilaration filled him. He looked about at the rims and corners of
the tombs caught by the light, and he laughed a little--though this
was not in the least what he intended--because it passed through
his mind that if King Abibaal and Queen Mitygen, for example, might
be treated with the contents of the mysterious vase they would no
doubt come forth, Abibaal with memories of the Queen of Sheba in his
eyes, and Queen Mitygen with her casket of Alexander's letters. Then
St. George went down on his knees again, and raised the old man's
head until it rested upon his own breast, and he passed the candle
before his face, his hand trembling so that the light flickered and
leaped up.
This time there was no mistaking. The tissues of old Malakh's ashen
face and throat and pallid hands were undergoing some subtle
transfiguration. It was as if new blood had come encroaching in
their veins. It was as if the muscles were become firm and full, as
if the wrinkled skin had been made smooth, the lips grown fresh, as
if--the word came to St.
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