"'Sit down, Remeses—my son Remeses,' she repeated, with a singular emphasis upon the words 'my son.' 'Hear what I wish to reveal to thee! I am now more composed. There is in my heart a great and ceaseless anxiety. Do not ask me what it is! The secret, I trust, will remain sealed forever from thy ears! Ask not—seek not to know it. You may as successfully obtain an answer from the heart of the great pyramid, revealing what is buried there from human eyes, as obtain an answer from me of the mystery lying at my heart. It will be embalmed with me, and go with me to the lower world!'
"'Mother,' I said, alarmed at her depressed manner, 'thou art ill—let me send for thy physician—'
"'Nay, nay—I am not ill! I shall be better soon! You, Remeses, have the key to my happiness and health,' she said tenderly, yet seriously.
"'Then I will yield it up to thee!' I answered pleasantly.
"'Hear my words, my son, for art thou not my son, my noble Remeses?' she asked, taking both my hands and holding them to her heart, and then pressing her lips upon them almost passionately; for I felt tears flow upon my hands.
"'Thy son, with undying love, my mother,' I answered, wondering in my heart, and deeply affected. She remained a few moments silent, and at length said—
"'Remeses, hast thou ever doubted my love?'
"'Never, no never, my mother!' I replied, moved.
"'Have I not been a true and fond mother to thee?'
"'Why distress yourself, dear mother, with such useless interrogatories?' I asked. No longer agitated, and her nervous air having quite disappeared, she spoke calmly but earnestly: