Tarrar followed him. The little slave felt, inquisitively, that the sycamore casket was not locked. He opened it for an instant; and by the flickering starlight Tarrar saw a small woman’s sandal, which he knew. The little slave wondered and wondered. But he continued to follow his master, faithfully; he would have followed him to the death.
They came to the desert. The master entered the desert; and Tarrar continued to wonder. The starry night now spread its dome over their heads; the silvery sands lay outstretched before him.
“Dig,” Lucius commanded, suddenly turning round.
Tarrar gave a start. He put down the casket in the sand and dug a hole with his hands.
“Deeper,” Lucius commanded. “Dig deeper.”
The little slave dug; quickly, like a little monkey, he dug the hole deep with his two hands.
“Put the casket in the hole,” Lucius commanded.
Tarrar did so and looked at his master.
“Cover the casket up with sand.”
Tarrar did as his master commanded. Then Lucius said: