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 * "Stars are hung in the emerald gloom,
 * Lamps for the temple door;
 * Into the mystic darkness loom
 * The portal columns of Pharaoh's tomb,
 * Hard by the river shore.


 * "The river singeth sweeter far
 * A slumber-song than I;
 * Be then your night-lamp yonder star,
 * And the Nile, on whose ancient heart you are,
 * Whisper your lullaby."

The song ceased as suddenly as it had begun, there was a momentary ripple, and all was as silent as before.

Fen, hardly believing himself to be awake, struggled to sit up enough to look out at the port-hole, but he only fell back upon the pillow with his back aching worse than even

"Of course it was Siddereticus," he thought; "nobody but a Djinn could possibly make up songs on purpose for people and sing them out of nothing in the