But they shall all perish. And if they all perish, if these symbols of sin and the hundred-fold more sinful body itself become dust, then surely the soul will remember them no more? Surely it will depart far, far away—perchance to that distant star—and will be happy like the others who are near to God and know nothing of sin, but are full of the comfort of the infinite mercy of God, who has permitted them to escape from hence?
With the burning torch in her hand she went all through the rooms, tearing down the curtains and tapestries, and piling them all on the divan; and when she entered the last of the rooms she saw a pale white figure coming towards her from its dark background. The shape was as familiar to her as if she had seen it hundreds of times, although she knew not where; and its face was so gentle, so unearthly—a grief not of this world suffused its handsome features and the joy of heaven flashed from its calm, quiet eyes—its hair clung round its head in tiny curls, as guardian-angels are painted.
The damsel gazed appalled at this apparition. She fancied Heaven had sent her the messenger of the forgiveness of her sins; but it was her own figure reflected from a mirror concealed in the dark background—that gentle, downcast, sorrowful face, those pure, shining eyes she had never seen in a mirror before; the cut-off hair increased the delusion.
Tremblingly she sank on her knees before this apparition, and touching the ground with her face, lay sobbing there for some time; and when she again rose up, it appeared to her as if that apparition extended towards her its snow-white arms full of pity, full of compassion; and when she raised her hands to Heaven it also pointed thither, raising a face transformed by a sublime desire. No, she could not recognise that face as her own, never before had she seen it so beautiful.
Azrael placed her hands devoutly across her breast and beckoned to the apparition to follow her, and raising the curtain she returned into that room where she had already raised a funeral pyre for herself.
There, piled up together, lay cushions of cloth of gold, Indian feather-stuffs, divans filled with swansdown, light, luxurious little tables, harps of camphor-wood adorned with pearls, lutes with the silvery voices of houris, a little basin filled with fine fragrant oils composed from the aroma of a thousand oriental flowers; this she everywhere sprinkled over the heaped-up stuff, and also saturated the thick carpets with it, the volatile essence filled the whole atmosphere.
Then she pressed her hand upon her throbbing heart, and said: "God be with me!"
And then she fired the heaped-up materials at all four corners, and, as if she were ascending her bridal bed, mounted her cushions with a smiling, triumphant face, and lay down among them, closing her eyes with a happy smile.
In a few moments the flames burst forth at all four corners, fed freely by the light dry stuff, and combining above her like a wave of fire, formed a flaming canopy over her head. And she smiled happily, sweetly, all the time. The air, filled with volatile oil, also burst into flame, turning into a sea of burning blue; white clouds of smoke began to gather above the pyre; the strings of the harp caught by the flames burst asunder one by one from their burning frame, emitting tremulous, woeful sounds as if weeping for her who was about to die. When the last harp-string had burnt—the odalisk was dead.