I gazed at him, half in wonder, half in pity.
"And yet you are a brave man!" I said.
These words roused him.

He met my gaze with such a haggard look of woe that my heart ached for him.

What comfort had he now?
What joy could he ever expect?
All his happiness was centred in the fact of BEING ALIVE--alive to the pleasures of living, and to the joys the world could offer to a man who was strong, handsome, rich, and accomplished--how could he look upon death as otherwise than a loathsome thing--a thing not to be thought of in the heyday of youthful blood and jollity--a doleful spectre, in whose bony hands the roses of love must fall and wither! With a sense of deep commiseration in me, I spoke again with great gentleness.
"You need not look upon Zara's corpse unless you wish it, Prince," I said.

"To you, the mysteries of the Hereafter have not been unlocked, because there is something in your nature that cannot and will not believe in God.

Therefore to you, death must be repellent.