The moon commenced to shine in the east, but soon hid herself.
They continued flying with greater rapidity than the earth turns upon its axis.
They had crossed Asia when it was night; to the left was the chain of the Himalayas, whose eternal snows glistened beneath the morning stars. They passed the shores of the Caspian Sea, turned a little toward the left, and rose above a hill at the side of a certain city. At that moment the midnight bell sounded.
“What city is this?” asked Tito.
“We are in Jerusalem,” answered Death.
“Already?”
“Yes, we lack but little of having made the circuit of the world. I stop here because it is midnight, at which hour I never fail to bend the knee.”
“Why?’