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The Ancient Allan

by H. Rider Haggard · English · Gutenberg #5746 · 486,285 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: The Ancient Allan

Author: H. Rider Haggard


        
Release date: May 1, 2004 [eBook #5746]
                Most recently updated: March 12, 2021

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/5746

Credits: John Bickers, Dagny and David Widger


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ANCIENT ALLAN ***

[Illustration]




The Ancient Allan

by H. Rider Haggard

First Published 1920.


Contents

 CHAPTER I. AN OLD FRIEND
 CHAPTER II. RAGNALL CASTLE
 CHAPTER III. ALLAN GIVES HIS WORD
 CHAPTER IV. THROUGH THE GATES 
 CHAPTER V. THE WAGER
 CHAPTER VI. THE DOOM OF THE BOAT
 CHAPTER VII. BES STEALS THE SIGNET
 CHAPTER VIII. THE LADY AMADA
 CHAPTER IX. THE MESSENGERS
 CHAPTER X. SHABAKA PLIGHTS HIS TROTH
 CHAPTER XI.  THE HOLY TANOFIR
 CHAPTER XII. THE SLAYING OF IDERNES
 CHAPTER XIII. AMADA RETURNS TO ISIS
 CHAPTER XIV. SHABAKA FIGHTS THE CROCODILE
 CHAPTER XV. THE SUMMONS
 CHAPTER XVI. TANOFIR FINDS HIS BROKEN CUP
 CHAPTER XVII. THE BATTLE—AND AFTER




CHAPTER I.
AN OLD FRIEND


Now I, Allan Quatermain, come to the weirdest (with one or two
exceptions perhaps) of all the experiences which it has amused me to
employ my idle hours in recording here in a strange land, for after all
England is strange to me. I grow elderly. I have, as I suppose, passed
the period of enterprise and adventure and I should be well satisfied
with the lot that Fate has given to my unworthy self.

To begin with, I am still alive and in health when by all the rules I
should have been dead many times over. I suppose I ought to be thankful
for that but, before expressing an opinion on the point, I should have
to be quite sure whether it is better to be alive or dead. The
religious plump for the latter, though I have never observed that the
religious are more eager to die than the rest of us poor mortals.

For instance, if they are told that their holy hearts are wrong, they
spend time and much money in rushing to a place called Nauheim in
Germany, to put them right by means of water-drinking, thereby
shortening their hours of heavenly bliss and depriving their heirs of a
certain amount of cash. The same thing applies to Buxton in my own
neighbourhood and gout, especially when it threatens the stomach or the
throat. Even archbishops will do these things, to say nothing of such
small fry as deans, or stout and prominent lay figures of the Church.

From common sinners like myself such conduct might be expected, but in
the case of those who are obviously poised on the topmost rungs of the
Jacobean—I mean, the heavenly—ladder, it is legitimate to inquire why
they show such reluctance in jumping off. As a matter of fact the only
persons that, individually, I have seen quite willing to die, except
now and again to save somebody else whom they were so foolish as to
care for more than they did for themselves, have been not those “upon
whom the light has shined” to quote an earnest paper I chanced to read
this morning, but, to quote again, “the sinful heathen wandering in
their native blackness,” by which I understand the writer to refer to
their moral state and not to their sable skins wherein for the most
part they are also condemned to wander, that is if they happen to have
been born south of a certain degree of latitude.

To come to facts, the staff of Faith which each must shape for himself,
is often hewn from unsuitable kinds of wood, yes, even by the very best
among us. Willow, for instance, is pretty and easy to cut, but try to
support yourself with it on the edge of a precipice and see where you
are. Then of a truth you will long for ironbark, or even homely oak. I
might carry my parable further, some allusions to the proper material
of which to fashion the helmet of Salvation suggest themselves to me
for example, but I won’t.

The truth is that we fear to die because all the religions are full of
uncomfortable hints as to what may happen to us afterwards as a reward
for our deviations from their laws and we half believe in something,
whereas often the savage, not being troubled with religion, fears less,
because he half believes in nothing. For very few inhabitants of this
earth can attain either to complete belief or to its absolute opposite.
They can seldom lay their hands upon their hearts, and say they _know_
that they will live for ever, or sleep for ever; there remains in the
case of most honest men an element of doubt in either hypothesis.

That is what makes this story of mine so interesting, at any rate to
me, since it does seem to suggest that whether or no I have a future,
as personally I hold to be the case and not altogether without
evidence, certainly I have had a past, though, so far as I know, in
this world only; a fact, if it be a fact, from which can be deduced all
kinds of arguments according to the taste of the reasoner.

And now for my experience, which it is only fair to add, may after all
have been no more than a long and connected dream. Yet how was I to
dream of lands, events and people whereof I have only the vaguest
knowledge, or none at all, unless indeed, as some say, being a part of
this world, we have hidden away somewhere in ourselves an acquaintance
with everything that has ever happened in the world. However, it does
not much matter and it is useless to discuss that which we cannot
prove.

Here at any rate is the story.

In a book or a record which I have written down and put away with
others under the title of “The Ivory Child,” I have told the tale of a
certain expedition I made in company with Lord Ragnall. Its object was
to search for his wife who was stolen away while travelling in Egypt in
a state of mental incapacity resulting from shock caused by the loss of
her child under tragic and terrible circumstances. The thieves were the
priests of a certain bastard Arab tribe who, on account of a birthmark
shaped like the young moon which was visible above her breast, believed
her to be the priestess or oracle of their worship. This worship
evidently had its origin in Ancient Egypt since, although they did not
seem to know it, the priestess was nothing less than a personification
of the great goddess Isis, and the Ivory Child, their fetish, was a
statue of the infant Horus, the fabled son of Isis and Osiris whom the
Egyptians looked upon as the overcomer of Set or the Devil, the
murderer of Osiris before his resurrection and ascent to Heaven to be
the god of the dead.

I need not set down afresh all that happened to us on this remarkable
adventure. Suffice it to say that in the end we recovered the lady and
that her mind was restored to her. Before she left the Kendah country,
however, the priesthood presented her with two ancient rolls of
papyrus, also with a quantity of a certain herb, not unlike tobacco in
appearance, which by the Kendah was called _Taduki_. Once, before we
took our great homeward journey across the desert, Lady Ragnall and I
had a curious conversation about this herb whereof the property is to
cause the person who inhales its fumes to become clairvoyant, or to
dream dreams, whichever the truth may be. It was used for this purpose
in the mystical ceremonies of the Kendah religion when under its
influence the priestess or oracle of the Ivory Child was wont to
announce divine revelations. During her tenure of this office Lady
Ragnall was frequently subjected to the spell of the _Taduki_ vapour,
and said strange things, some of which I heard with my own ears. Also
myself once I experienced its effects and saw a curious vision, whereof
many of the particulars were afterwards translated into facts.

Now the conversation which I have mentioned was shortly to the effect,
that she, Lady Ragnall, believed a time would come when she or I or
both of us, were destined to imbibe these _Taduki_ fumes and see
wonderful pictures of some past or future existence in which we were
both concerned. This knowledge, she declared, had come to her while she
was officiating in an apparently mindless condition as the priestess of
the Kendah god called the Ivory Child.

At the time I did not think it wise to pursue so exciting a subject
with a woman whose mind had been recently unbalanced, and afterwards in
the stress of new experiences, I forgot all about the matter, or at any
rate only thought of it very rarely.

Once, however, it did recur to me with some force. Shortly after I came
to England to spend my remaining days far from the temptations of
adventure, I was beguiled into becoming a steward of a Charity dinner
and, what was worse, into attending the said dinner. Although its
objects were admirable, it proved one of the most dreadful functions in
which I was ever called upon to share. There was a vast number of
people, some of them highly distinguished, who had come to support the
Charity or to show off their Orders, I don’t know which, and others
like myself, not at all distinguished, just common subscribers, who had
no Orders and stood about the crowded room like waiters looking for a
job.

At the dinner, which was very bad, I sat at a table so remote that I
could hear but little of the interminable speeches, which was perhaps
fortunate for me. In these circumstances I drifted into conversation
with my neighbour, a queer, wizened, black-bearded man who somehow or
other had found out that I was acquainted with the wilder parts of
Africa. He proved to be a wealthy scientist whose passion it was to
study the properties of herbs, especially of such as grow in the
interior of South America where he had been travelling for some years.

Presently he mentioned a root named Yagé, known to the Indians which,
when pounded up into a paste and taken in the form of pills, had the
effect of enabling the patient to see events that were passing at a
distance. Indeed he alleged that a vision thus produced had caused him
to return home, since in it he saw that some relative of his, I think a
twin-sister, was dangerously ill. In fact, however, he might as well
have stayed away, as he only arrived in London on the day after her
funeral.

As I saw that he was really interested in the subject and observed that
he was a very temperate man who did not seem to be romancing, I told
him something of my experiences with _Taduki_, to which he listened
with a kind of rapt but suppressed excitement. When I affected
disbelief in the whole business, he differed from me almost rudely,
asking why I rejected phenomena simply because I was too dense to
understand them. I answered perhaps because such phenomena were
inconvenient and upset one’s ideas. To this he replied that all
progress involved the upsetting of existent ideas. Moreover he implored
me, if the chance should ever come my way, to pursue experiments with
_Taduki_ fumes and let him know the results.

Here our conversation came to an end for suddenly a band that was
braying near by, struck up “God save the Queen,” and we hastily
exchanged cards and parted. I only mention it because, had it not
occurred, I think it probable that I should never have been in a
position to write this history.

The remarks of my acquaintance remained in my mind and influenced it so
much that when the occasion came, I did as a kind of duty what, however
much I was pressed, I am almost sure I should never have done for any
other reason, just because I thought that I ought to take an
opportunity of trying to discover what was the truth of the matter. As
it chanced it was quick in coming.

Here I should explain that I attended the dinner of which I have spoken
not very long after a very lengthy absence from England, whither I had
come to live when King Solomon’s Mines had made me rich. Therefore it
happened that between the conclusion of my Kendah adventure some years
before and this time I saw nothing and heard little of Lord and Lady
Ragnall. Once a rumour did reach me, however, I think through Sir Henry
Curtis or Captain Good, that the former had died as a result of an
accident. What the accident was my informant did not know and as I was
just starting on a far journey at the time, I had no opportunity of
making inquiries. My talk with the botanical scientist determined me to
do so; indeed a few days later I discovered from a book of reference
that Lord Ragnall was dead, leaving no heir; also that his wife
survived him.

I was working myself up to write to her when one morning the postman
brought me here at the Grange a letter which had “Ragnall Castle”
printed on the flap of the envelope. I did not know the writing which
was very clear and firm, for as it chanced, to the best of my
recollection, I had never seen that of Lady Ragnall. Here is a copy of
the letter it contained:

“MY DEAR MR. QUATERMAIN,—Very strangely I have just seen at a meeting
of the Horticultural Society, a gentleman who declares that a few days
ago he sat next to you at some public dinner. Indeed I do not think
there can be any doubt for he showed me your card which he had in his
purse with a Yorkshire address upon it.

“A dispute had arisen as to whether a certain variety of Crinum lily
was first found in Africa, or Southern America. This gentleman, an
authority upon South American flora, made a speech saying that he had
never met with it there, but that an acquaintance of his, Mr.
Quatermain, to whom he had spoken on the subject, said that he had seen
something of the sort in the interior of Africa.” (This was quite true
for I remembered the incident.) “At the tea which followed the meeting
I spoke to this gentleman whose name I never caught, and to my
astonishment learnt that he must have been referring to you whom I
believed to be dead, for so we were told a long time ago. This seemed
certain, for in addition to the evidence of the name, he described your
personal appearance and told me that you had come to live in England.

“My dear friend, I can assure you it is long since I heard anything
which rejoiced me so much. Oh! as I write all the past comes back,
flowing in upon me like a pent-up flood of water, but I trust that of
this I shall soon have an opportunity of talking to you. So let it be
for a while.

“Alas! my friend, since we parted on the shores of the Red Sea, tragedy
has pursued me. As you will know, for both my husband and I wrote to
you, although you did not answer the letters” (I never received them),
“we reached England safely and took up our old life again, though to
tell you the truth, after my African experiences things could never be
quite the same to me, or for the matter of that to George either. To a
great extent he changed his pursuits and certain political ambitions
which he once cherished, seemed no longer to appeal to him. He became a
student of past history and especially of Egyptology, which under all
the circumstances you may think strange, as I did. However it suited me
well enough, since I also have tastes that way. So we worked together
and I can now read hieroglyphics as well as most people. One year he
said that he would like to go to Egypt again, if I were not afraid. I
answered that it had not been a very lucky place for us, but that
personally I was not in the least afraid and longed to return there.
For as you know, I have, or think I have, ties with Egypt and indeed
with all Africa. Well, we went and had a very happy time, although I
was always expecting to see old Harût come round the corner.

“After this it became a custom with us who, since George practically
gave up shooting and attending the House of Lords, had nothing to keep
us in England, to winter in Egypt. We did this for five years in
succession, living in a bungalow which we built at a place in the
desert, not far from the banks of the Nile, about half way between
Luxor which was the ancient Thebes, and Assouan. George took a great
fancy to this spot when first he saw it, and so in truth did I, for,
like Memphis, it attracted me so much that I used to laugh and say I
believed that once I had something to do with it.

“Now near to our villa that we called ‘Ragnall’ after this house, are
the remains of a temple which were almost buried in the sand. This
temple George obtained permission to excavate. It proved to be a long
and costly business, but as he did not mind spending the money, that
was no obstacle. For four winters we worked at it, employing several
hundred men. As we went on we discovered that although not one of the
largest, the temple, owing to its having been buried by the sand
during, or shortly after the Roman epoch, remained much more perfect
than we had expected, because the early Christians had never got at it
with their chisels and hammers. Before long I hope to show you pictures
and photographs of the various courts, etc., so I will not attempt to
describe them now.

“It is a temple to Isis—built, or rather rebuilt over the remains of an
older temple on a site that seems to have been called Amada, at any
rate in the later days, and so named after a city in Nubia, apparently
by one of the Amen-hetep Pharaohs who had conquered it. Its style is
beautiful, being of the best period of the Egyptian Renaissance under
the last native dynasties.

“At the beginning of the fifth winter, at length we approached the
sanctuary, a difficult business because of the retaining walls that had
to be built to keep the sand from flowing down as fast as it was
removed, and the great quantities of stuff that must be carried off by
the tramway. In so doing we came upon a shallow grave which appeared to
have been hastily filled in and roughly covered over with paving stones
like the rest of the court, as though to conceal its existence. In this
grave lay the skeleton of a large man, together with the rusted blade
of an iron sword and some fragments of armour. Evidently he had never
been mummified, for there were no wrappings, canopic jars, _ushapti_
figures or funeral offerings. The state of the bones showed us why, for
the right forearm was cut through and the skull smashed in; also an
iron arrow-head lay among the ribs. The man had been buried hurriedly
after a battle in which he had met his death. Searching in the dust
beneath the bones we found a gold ring still on one of the fingers. On
its bezel was engraved the cartouche of ‘Peroa, beloved of Ra.’ Now
Peroa probably means Pharaoh and perhaps he was Khabasha who revolted
against the Persians and ruled for a year or two, after which he is
supposed to have been defeated and killed, though of his end and place
of burial there is no record. Whether these were the remnants of
Khabasha himself, or of one of his high ministers or generals who wore
the King’s cartouche upon his ring in token of his office, of course I
cannot say.

“When George had read the cartouche he handed me the ring which I
slipped upon the first finger of my left hand, where I still wear it.
Then leaving the grave open for further examination, we went on with
the work, for we were greatly excited. At length, this was towards
evening, we had cleared enough of the sanctuary, which was small, to
uncover the shrine that, if not a monolith, was made of four pieces of
granite so wonderfully put together that one could not see the joints.
On the curved architrave as I think it is called, was carved the symbol
of a winged disc, and beneath in hieroglyphics as fresh as though they
had only been cut yesterday, an inscription to the effect that Peroa,
Royal Son of the Sun, gave this shrine as an ‘excellent eternal work,’
together with the statues of the Holy Mother and the Holy Child to the
‘emanations of the great Goddess Isis and the god Horus,’ Amada, Royal
Lady, being votaress or high-priestess.

“We only read the hieroglyphics very hurriedly, being anxious to see
what was within the shrine that, the cedar door having rotted away, was
filled with fine, drifted sand. Basketful by basketful we got it out
and then, my friend, there appeared the most beautiful life-sized
statue of Isis carved in alabaster that ever I have seen. She was
seated on a throne-like chair and wore the vulture cap on which traces
of colour remained. Her arms were held forward as though to support a
child, which perhaps she was suckling as one of the breasts was bare.
But if so, the child had gone. The execution of the statue was
exquisite and its tender and mystic face extraordinarily beautiful, so
life-like also that I think it must have been copied from a living
model. Oh! my friend, when I looked upon it, which we did by the light
of the candles, for the sun was sinking and shadows gathered in that
excavated hole, I felt—never mind what I felt—perhaps _you_ can guess
who know my history.

“While we stared and stared, I longing to go upon my knees, I knew not
why, suddenly I felt a faint trembling of the ground. At the same
moment, the head overseer of the works, a man called Achmet, rushed up
to us, shouting out—‘Back! Back! The wall has burst. The sand runs!’

“He seized me by the arm and dragged me away beside of and behind the
grave, George turning to follow. Next instant I saw a kind of wave of
sand, on the crest of which appeared the stones of the wall, curl over
and break. It struck the shrine, overturned and shattered it, which
makes me think it was made of four pieces, and shattered also the
alabaster statue within, for I saw its head strike George upon the back
and throw him forward. He reeled and fell into the open grave which in
another moment was filled and covered with the débris that seemed to
grip me to my middle in its flow. After this I remembered nothing more
until hours later I found myself lying in our house.

“Achmet and his Egyptians had done nothing; indeed none of them could
be persuaded to approach the place till the sun rose because, as they
said, the old gods of the land whom they looked upon as devils, were
angry at being disturbed and would kill them as they had killed the
Bey, meaning George. Then, distracted as I was, I went myself for there
was no other European there, to find that the whole site of the
sanctuary was buried beneath hundreds of tons of sand, that, beginning
at the gap in the broken wall, had flowed from every side. Indeed it
would have taken weeks to dig it out, since to sink a shaft was
impracticable and so dangerous that the local officials refused to
allow it to be attempted. The end of it was that an English bishop came
up from Cairo and consecrated the ground by special arrangement with
the Government, which of course makes it impossible that this part of
the temple should be further disturbed. After this he read the Burial
Service over my dear husband.

“So there is the end of a very terrible story which I have written down
because I do not wish to have to talk about it more than is necessary
when we meet. For, dear Mr. Quatermain, we shall meet, as I always knew
that we should—yes, even after I heard that you were dead. You will
remember that I told you so years ago in Kendah Land and that it would
happen after a great change in my life, though what that change might
be I could not say....”

This is the end of the letter except for certain suggested dates for
the visit which she took for granted I should make to Ragnall.




CHAPTER II.
RAGNALL CASTLE


When I had finished reading this amazing document I lit my pipe and set
to work to think it over. The hypothetical inquirer might ask why I
thought it amazing. There was nothing odd in a dilettante Englishman of
highly cultivated mind taking to Egyptology and, being, as it chanced,
one of the richest men in the kingdom, spending a fraction of his
wealth in excavating temples. Nor was it strange that he should have
happened to die by accident when engaged in that pursuit, which I can
imagine to be very fascinating in the delightful winter climate of
Egypt. He was not the first person to be buried by a fall of sand. Why,
only a little while ago the same fate overtook a nursery-governess and
the child in her charge who were trying to dig out a martin’s nest in a
pit in this very parish. Their operations brought down a huge mass of
the overhanging bank beneath which the sand-vein had been hollowed by
workmen who deserted the pit when they saw that it had become unsafe.
Next day I and my gardeners helped to recover their bodies, for their
whereabouts was not discovered until the following morning, and a sad
business it was.

Yet, taken in conjunction with the history of this couple, the whole
Ragnall affair was very strange. When but a child Lady Ragnall, then
the Hon. Miss Holmes, had been identified by the priests of a remote
African tribe as the oracle of their peculiar faith, which we
afterwards proved to be derived from old Egypt, in short the worship of
Isis and Horus. Subsequently they tried to steal her away and through
the accident of my intervention, failed. Later on, after her marriage
when shock had deprived her of her mind, these priests renewed the
attempt, this time in Egypt, and succeeded. In the end we rescued her
in Central Africa, where she was playing the part of the Mother-goddess
Isis and even wearing her ancient robes. Next she and her husband came
home with their minds turned towards a branch of study that took them
back to Egypt. Here they devote themselves to unearthing a temple and
find out that among all the gods of Egypt, who seem to have been
extremely numerous, it was dedicated to Isis and Horus, the very
divinities with whom they recently they had been so intimately
concerned if in traditional and degenerate forms.

Moreover that was not the finish of it. They come to the sanctuary.
They discover the statue of the goddess with the child gone, as their
child was gone. A disaster occurs and both destroys and buries Ragnall
so effectually that nothing of him is ever seen again: he just vanishes
into another man’s grave and remains there.

A common sort of catastrophe enough, it is true, though people of
superstitious mind might have thought that it looked as though the
goddess, or whatever force was behind the goddess, was working
vengeance on the man who desecrated her ancient shrine. And, by the
way, though I cannot remember whether or no I mentioned it in “The
Ivory Child,” I recall that the old priest of the Kendah, Harût, once
told me he was sure Ragnall would meet with a violent death. This
seemed likely enough in that country under our circumstances there,
still I asked him why. He answered,

“Because he has laid hands on that which is holy and not meant for
man,” and he looked at Lady Ragnall.

I remarked that all women were holy, whereon he replied that he did not
think so and changed the subject.

Well, Ragnall, who had married the lady who once served as the last
priestess of Isis upon earth, was killed, whereas she, the priestess,
was almost miraculously preserved from harm. And—oh! the whole story
was deuced odd and that is all. Poor Ragnall! He was a great English
gentleman and one whom when first I knew him, I held to be the most
fortunate person I ever met, endowed as he was with every advantage of
mind, body and estate. Yet in the end this did not prove to be the
case. Well, while he lived he was a good friend and a good fellow and
none can hope for a better epitaph in a world where all things are soon
forgotten.

And now, what was I to do? To tell the truth I did not altogether
desire to reopen this chapter in past history, or to have to listen to
painful reminiscences from the lips of a bereaved woman. Moreover,
beautiful as she had been, for doubtless she was _passée_ now, and
charming as of course she remained—I do not think I ever knew anyone
who was quite so charming—there was something about Lady Ragnall which
alarmed me. She did not resemble any other woman. Of course no woman is
ever quite like another, but in her case the separateness, if I may so
call it, was very marked. It was as though she had walked out of a
different age, or even world, and been but superficially clothed with
the attributes of our own. I felt that from the first moment I set eyes
upon her and while reading her letter the sensation returned with added
force.

Also for me she had a peculiar attraction and not one of the ordinary
kind. It is curious to find oneself strangely intimate with a person of
whom after all one does not know much, just as if one really knew a
great deal that was shut off by a thin but quite impassable door. If
so, I did not want to open that door for who could tell what might be
on the other side of it? And intimate conversations with a lady in
whose company one has shared very strange experiences, not infrequently
lead to the opening of every kind of door.

Further I had made up my mind some time ago to have no more friendships
with women who are so full of surprises, but to live out the rest of my
life in a kind of monastery of men who have few surprises, being
creatures whose thoughts are nearly always open and whose actions can
always be foretold.

Lastly there was that _Taduki_ business. Well, there at any rate I was
clear and decided. No earthly power would induce me to have anything
more to do with _Taduki_ smoke. Of course I remembered that Lady
Ragnall once told me kindly but firmly that I would if she wished. But
that was just where she made a mistake. For the rest it seemed unkind
to refuse her invitation now when she was in trouble, especially as I
had once promised that if ever I could be of help, she had only to
command me. No, I must go. But if that word—_Taduki_—were so much as
mentioned I would leave again in a hurry. Moreover it would not be, for
doubtless she had forgotten all about the stuff by now, even if it were
not lost.

The end of it was that as I did not wish to write a long letter
entering into all that Lady Ragnall had told me, I sent her a telegram,
saying that if convenient to her, I would arrive at the Castle on the
following Saturday evening and adding that I must be back here on the
Tuesday afternoon, as I had guests coming to stay with me on that day.
This was perfectly true as the season was mid-November and I was to
begin shooting my coverts on the Wednesday morning, a function that
once fixed, cannot be postponed.

In due course an answer arrived—“Delighted, but hoped that you would
have been able to stay longer.”

Behold me then about six o’clock on the said Saturday evening being
once more whirled by a splendid pair of horses through the gateway arch
of Ragnall Castle. The carriage stopped beneath the portico, the great
doors flew open revealing the glow of the hall fire and lights within,
the footman sprang down from the box and two other footmen descended
the steps to assist me and my belongings out of the carriage. These, I
remember, consisted of a handbag with my dress clothes and a
yellow-backed novel.

So one of them took the handbag and the other had to content himself
with the novel, which made me wish I had brought a portmanteau as well,
if only for the look of the thing. The pair thus burdened, escorted me
up the steps and delivered me over to the butler who scanned me with a
critical eye. I scanned him also and perceived that he was a very fine
specimen of his class. Indeed his stately presence so overcame me that
I remarked nervously, as he helped me off with my coat, that when last
I was here another had filled his office.

“Indeed, Sir,” he said, “and what was his name, Sir?”

“Savage,” I replied.

“And where might he be now, Sir?”

“Inside a snake!” I answered. “At least he was inside a snake but now I
hope he is waiting upon his master in Heaven.”

The man recoiled a little, pulling off my coat with a jerk. Then he
coughed, rubbed his bald head, stared and recovering himself with an
effort, said,

“Indeed, Sir! I only came to this place after the death of his late
lordship, when her ladyship changed all the household. Alfred, show
this gentleman up to her ladyship’s boudoir, and William, take
his—baggage—to the blue room. Her ladyship wishes to see you at once,
Sir, before the others come.”

So I went up the big staircase to a part of the Castle that I did not
remember, wondering who “the others” might be. Almost could I have
sworn that the shade of Savage accompanied me up those stairs; I could
feel him at my side.

Presently a door was thrown open and I was ushered into a room somewhat
dimly lit and full of the scent of flowers. By the fire near a
tea-table, stood a lady clad in some dark dress with the light glinting
on her rich-hued hair. She turned and I saw that she still wore the
necklace of red stones, and beneath it on her breast a single red
flower. For this was Lady Ragnall; about that there was no doubt at
all, so little doubt indeed that I was amazed. I had expected to see a
stout, elderly woman whom I should only know by the colour of her eyes
and her voice, and perhaps certain tricks of manner. But, this was the
mischief of it, I could not perceive any change, at any rate in that
light. She was just the same! Perhaps a little fuller in figure, which
was an advantage; perhaps a little more considered in her movements,
perhaps a little taller or at any rate more stately, and that was all.

These things I learned in a flash. Then with a murmured “Mr.
Quatermain, my Lady,” the footman closed the door and she saw me.

Moving quickly towards me with both her hands outstretched, she
exclaimed in that honey-soft voice of hers,

“Oh! my dear friend——” stopped and added, “Why, you haven’t changed a
bit.”

“Fossils wear well,” I replied, “but that is just what I was thinking
of you.”

“Then it is very rude of you to call me a fossil when I am only
approaching that stage. Oh! I am glad to see you. I _am_ glad!” and she
gave me both the outstretched hands.

Upon my word I felt inclined to kiss her and have wondered ever since
if she would have been very angry. I am not certain that she did not
divine the inclination. At any rate after a little pause she dropped my
hands and laughed. Then she said,

“I must tell you at once. A most terrible catastrophe has happened——”

Instantly it occurred to me that she had forgotten having informed me
by letter of all the details of her husband’s death. Such things chance
to people who have once lost their memory. So I tried to look as
sympathetic as I felt, sighed and waited.

“It’s not so bad as all that,” she said with a little shake of her
head, reading my thought as she always had the power to do from the
first moment we met. “We can talk about _that_ afterwards. It’s only
that I hoped we were going to have a quiet two days, and now the
Atterby-Smiths are coming, yes, in half an hour. Five of them!”

“The Atterby-Smiths!” I exclaimed, for somehow I too felt disappointed.
“Who are the Atterby-Smiths?”

“Cousins of George’s, his nearest relatives. They think he ought to
have left them everything. But he didn’t, because he could never bear
the sight of them. You see his property was unentailed and he left it
all to me. Now the entire family is advancing to suggest that I should
leave it to them, as perhaps I might have done if they had not chosen
to come just now.”

“Why didn’t you put them off?” I asked.

“Because I couldn’t,” she answered with a little stamp of her foot,
“otherwise do you suppose they would have been here? They were far too
clever. They telegraphed after lunch giving the train by which they
were to arrive, but no address save Charing Cross. I thought of moving
up to the Berkeley Square house, but it was impossible in the time,
also I didn’t know how to catch you. Oh! it’s _most_ vexatious.”

“Perhaps they are very nice,” I suggested feebly.

“Nice! Wait till you have seen them. Besides if they had been angels I
did not want them just now. But how selfish I am! Come and have some
tea. And you can stop longer, that is if you live through the
Atterby-Smiths who are worse than both the Kendah tribes put together.
Indeed I wish old Harût were coming instead. I should like to see Harût
again, wouldn’t you?” and suddenly the mystical look I knew so well,
gathered on her face.

“Yes, perhaps I should,” I replied doubtfully. “But I must leave by the
first train on Tuesday morning; it goes at eight o’clock. I looked it
up.”

“Then the Atterby-Smiths leave on Monday if I have to turn them out of
the house. So we shall get one evening clear at any rate. Stop a
minute,” and she rang the bell.

The footman appeared as suddenly as though he had been listening at the
door.

“Alfred,” she said, “tell Moxley” (he, I discovered, was the butler)
“that when Mr. and Mrs. Atterby-Smith, the two Misses Atterby-Smith and
the young Mr. Atterby-Smith arrive, they are to be shown to their
rooms. Tell the cook also to put off dinner till half-past eight, and
if Mr. and Mrs. Scroope arrive earlier, tell Moxley to tell them that I
am sorry to be a little late, but that I was delayed by some parish
business. Now do you understand?”

“Yes, my Lady,” said Alfred and vanished.

“He doesn’t understand in the least,” remarked Lady Ragnall, “but so
long as he doesn’t show the Atterby-Smiths up here, in which case he
can go away with them on Monday, I don’t care. It will all work out
somehow. Now sit down by the fire and let’s talk. We’ve got nearly an
hour and twenty minutes and you can smoke if you like. I learnt to in
Egypt,” and she took a cigarette from the mantelpiece and lit it.

That hour and twenty minutes went like a flash, for we had so much to
say to each other that we never even got to the things we wanted to
say. For instance, I began to tell her about King Solomon’s Mines,
which was a long story; and she to tell me what happened after we
parted on the shores of the Red Sea. At least the first hour and a
quarter went, when suddenly the door opened and Alfred in a somewhat
frightened voice announced—“Mr. and Mrs. Atterby-Smith, the Misses
Atterby-Smith and Mr. Atterby-Smith junior.”

Then he caught sight of his mistress’s eye and fled.

I looked and felt inclined to do likewise if only there had been
another door. But there wasn’t and that which existed was quite full.
In the forefront came A.-S. senior, like a bull leading the herd.
Indeed his appearance was bull-like as my eye, travelling from the
expanse of white shirt-front (they were all dressed for dinner) to his
red and massive countenance surmounted by two horn-like tufts of
carroty hair, informed me at a glance. Followed Mrs. A.-S., the British
matron incarnate. Literally there seemed to be acres of her; black silk
below and white skin above on which set in filigree floated big green
stones, like islands in an ocean. Her countenance too, though stupid
was very stern and frightened me. Followed the progeny of this
formidable pair. They were tall and thin, also red haired. The girls,
whose age I could not guess in the least, were exactly like each other,
which was not strange as afterwards I discovered that they were twins.
They had pale blue eyes and somehow reminded me of fish. Both of them
were dressed in green and wore topaz necklaces. The young man who
seemed to be about one or two and twenty, had also pale blue eyes, in
one of which he wore an eye-glass, but his hair was sandy as though it
had been bleached, parted in the middle and oiled down flat.

For a moment there was a silence which I felt to be dreadful. Then in a
big, pompous voice A.-S. _père_ said,

“How do you do, my dear Luna? As I ascertained from the footman that
you had not yet gone to dress, I insisted upon his leading us here for
a little private conversation after we have been parted for so many
years. We wished to offer you our condolences in person on your and our
still recent loss.”

“Thank you,” said Lady Ragnall, “but I think we have corresponded on
the subject which is painful to me.”

“I fear that we are interrupting a smoking party, Thomas,” said Mrs.
A.-S. in a cold voice, sniffing at the air for all the world like a
suspicious animal, whereon the five of them stared at Lady Ragnall’s
cigarette which she held between her fingers.

“Yes,” said Lady Ragnall. “Won’t you have one? Mr. Quatermain, hand
Mrs. Smith the box, please.”

I obeyed automatically, proffering it to the lady who nearly withered
me with a glance, and then to each to each in turn. To my relief the
young man took one.

“Archibald,” said his mother, “you are surely not going to make your
sisters’ dresses smell of tobacco just before dinner.”

Archibald sniggered and replied,

“A little more smoke will not make any difference in this room, Ma.”

“That is true, darling,” said Mrs. A.-S. and was straightway seized
with a fit of asthma.

After this I am sure I don’t know what happened, for muttering
something about its being time to dress, I rushed from the room and
wandered about until I could find someone to conduct me to my own where
I lingered until I heard the dinner-bell ring. But even this retreat
was not without disaster, for in my hurry I trod upon one of the young
lady’s dresses; I don’t know whether it was Dolly’s or Polly’s (they
were named Dolly and Polly) and heard a dreadful crack about her middle
as though she were breaking in two. Thereon Archibald giggled again and
Dolly and Polly remarked with one voice—they always spoke together,

“Oh! clumsy!”

To complete my misfortunes I missed my way going downstairs and strayed
to and fro like a lost lamb until I found myself confronted by a green
baize door which reminded me of something. I stood staring at it till
suddenly a vision arose before me of myself following a bell wire
through that very door in the darkness of the night when in search for
the late Mr. Savage upon a certain urgent occasion. Yes, there could be
no doubt about it, for look! there was the wire, and strange it seemed
to me that I should live to behold it again. Curiosity led me to push
the door open just to ascertain if my memory served me aright about the
exact locality of the room. Next moment I regretted it for I fell
straight into the arms of either Polly or Dolly.

“Oh!” said she, “I’ve just been sewn up.”

I reflected that this was my case also in another sense, but asked
feebly if she knew the way downstairs.

She didn’t; neither of us did, till at length we met Mrs. Smith coming
to look for her.

If I had been a burglar she could not have regarded me with graver
suspicions. But at any rate _she_ knew the way downstairs. And there to
my joy I found my old friend Scroope and his wife, both of them grown
stout and elderly, but as jolly as ever, after which the Smith family
ceased to trouble me.

Also there was the rector of the parish, Dr. Jeffreys and an absurdly
young wife whom he had recently married, a fluffy-headed little thing
with round eyes and a cheerful, perky manner. The two of them together
looked exactly like a turkey-cock and a chicken. I remembered him well
enough and to my astonishment he remembered me, perhaps because Lady
Ragnall, when she had hastily invited him to meet the Smith family,
mentioned that I was coming. Lastly there was the curate, a dark, young
man who seemed to be always brooding over the secrets of time and
eternity, though perhaps he was only thinking about his dinner or the
next day’s services.

Well, there we stood in that well-remembered drawing-room in which
first I had made the acquaintance of Harût and Marût; also of the
beautiful Miss Holmes as Lady Ragnall was then called. The Scroopes,
the Jeffreys and I gathered in one group and the Atterby-Smiths in
another like a force about to attack, while between the two, brooding
and indeterminate, stood the curate, a neutral observer.

Presently Lady Ragnall arrived, apologizing for being late. For some
reason best known to herself she had chosen to dress as though for a
great party. I believe it was out of mischief and in order to show Mrs.
Atterby-Smith some of the diamonds she was firmly determined that
family should never inherit. At any rate there she stood glittering and
lovely, and smiled upon us.

Then came dinner and once more I marched to the great hall in her
company; Dr. Jeffreys got Mrs. Smith; Papa Smith got Mrs. Jeffreys who
looked like a Grecian maiden walking into dinner with the Minotaur;
Scroope got one of the Miss Smiths, she who wore a pink bow, the gloomy
curate got the other with a blue bow, and Archibald got Mrs. Scroope
who departed making faces at us over his shoulder.

“You look very grand and nice,” I said to Lady Ragnall as we followed
the others at a discreet distance.

“I am glad,” she answered, “as to the nice, I mean. As for the grand,
that dreadful woman is always writing to me about the Ragnall diamonds,
so I thought that she should see some of them for the first and last
time. Do you know I haven’t worn these things since George and I went
to Court together, and I daresay shall never wear them again, for there
is only one ornament I care for and I have got _that_ on under my
dress.”

I stared and her and with a laugh said that she was very mischievous.

“I suppose so,” she replied, “but I detest those people who are pompous
and rude and have spoiled my party. Do you know I had half a mind to
come down in the dress that I wore as Isis in Kendah Land. I have got
it upstairs and you shall see me in it before you go, for old time’s
sake. Only it occurred to me that they might think me mad, so I didn’t.
Dr. Jeffreys, will you say grace, please?”

Well, it was a most agreeable dinner so far as I was concerned, for I
sat between my hostess and Mrs. Scroope and the rest were too far off
for conversation. Moreover as Archibald developed an unexpected
quantity of small talk, and Scroope on the other side amused himself by
filling pink-bow Miss Smith’s innocent mind with preposterous stories
about Africa, as had happened to me once before at this table, Lady
Ragnall and I were practically left undisturbed.

“Isn’t it strange that we should find ourselves sitting here again
after all these years, except that you are in my poor mother’s place?
Oh! when that scientific gentleman convinced me the other day that you
whom I had heard were dead, were not only alive and well but actually
in England, really I could have embraced him.”

I thought of an answer but did not make it, though as usual she read my
mind for I saw her smile.

“The truth is,” she went on, “I am an only child and really have no
friends, though of course being—well, you know,” and she glanced at the
jewels on her breast, “I have plenty of acquaintances.”

“And suitors,” I suggested.

“Yes,” she replied blushing, “as many as Penelope, not one of whom
cares twopence about me any more than I care for them. The truth is,
Mr. Quatermain, that nobody and nothing interest me, except a spot in
the churchyard yonder and another amid ruins in Egypt.”

“You have had sad bereavements,” I said looking the other way.

“Very sad and they have left life empty. Still I should not complain
for I have had my share of good. Also it isn’t true to say that nothing
interests me. Egypt interests me, though after what has happened I do
not feel as though I could return there. All Africa interests me and,”
she added dropping her voice, “I can say it because I know you will not
misunderstand, you interest me, as you have always done since the first
moment I saw you.”

“_I!_” I exclaimed, staring at my own reflection in a silver plate
which made me look—well, more unattractive than usual. “It’s very kind
of you to say so, but I can’t understand why I should. You have seen
very little of me, Lady Ragnall, except in that long journey across the
desert when we did not talk much, since you were otherwise engaged.”

“I know. That’s the odd part of it, for I feel as though I had seen you
for years and years and knew everything about you that one human being
can know of another. Of course, too, I do know a good lot of your life
through George and Harût.”

“Harût was a great liar,” I said uneasily.

“Was he? I always thought him painfully truthful, though how he got at
the truth I do not know. Anyhow,” she added with meaning, “don’t
suppose I think the worse of you because others have thought so well.
Women who seem to be all different, generally, I notice, have this in
common. If one or two of them like a man, the rest like him also
because something in him appeals to the universal feminine instinct,
and the same applies to their dislike. Now men, I think, are different
in that respect.”

“Perhaps because they are more catholic and charitable,” I suggested,
“or perhaps because they like those who like them.”

She laughed in her charming way, and said,

“However these remarks do not apply to you and me, for as I think I
told you once before in that cedar wood in Kendah Land where you feared
lest I should catch a chill, or become—odd again, it is another you
with whom something in me seems to be so intimate.”

“That’s fortunate for your sake,” I muttered, still staring at and
pointing to the silver plate.

Again she laughed. “Do you remember the _Taduki_ herb?” she asked. “I
have plenty of it safe upstairs, and not long ago I took a whiff of it,
only a whiff because you know it had to be saved.”

“And what did you see?”

“Never mind. The question is what shall we _both_ see?”

“Nothing,” I said firmly. “No earthly power will make me breathe that
unholy drug again.”

“Except me,” she murmured with sweet decision. “No, don’t think about
leaving the house. You can’t, there are no Sunday trains. Besides you
won’t if I ask you not.”

“‘In vain is the net spread in the sight of any bird,’” I replied, firm
as a mountain.

“Is it? Then why are so many caught?”

At that moment the Bull of Bashan—I mean Smith, began to bellow
something at his hostess from the other end of the table and our
conversation came to an end.

“I say, old chap,” whispered Scroope in my ear when we stood up to see
the ladies out. “I suppose you are thinking of marrying again. Well,
you might do worse,” and he glanced at the glittering form of Lady
Ragnall vanishing through the doorway behind her guests.

“Shut up, you idiot!” I replied indignantly.

“Why?” he asked with innocence. “Marriage is an honourable estate,
especially when there is lots of the latter. I remember saying
something of the sort to you years ago and at this table, when as it
happened you also took in her ladyship. Only there was George in the
wind then; now it has carried him away.”

Without deigning any reply I seized my glass and went to sit down
between the canon and the Bull of Bashan.




CHAPTER III.
ALLAN GIVES HIS WORD


Mr. Atterby-Smith proved on acquaintance to be even worse than unfond
fancy painted him. He was a gentleman in a way and of good family
whereof the real name was Atterby, the Smith having been added to
secure a moderate fortune left to him on that condition. His connection
with Lord Ragnall was not close and through the mother’s side. For the
rest he lived in some south-coast watering-place and fancied himself a
sportsman because he had on various occasions hired a Scottish moor or
deer forest. Evidently he had never done anything nor earned a shilling
during all his life and was bringing his family up to follow in his
useless footsteps. The chief note of his character was that intolerable
vanity which so often marks men who have nothing whatsoever about which
to be vain. Also he had a great idea of his rights and what was due to
him, which he appeared to consider included, upon what ground I could
not in the least understand, the reversal of all the Ragnall properties
and wealth. I do not think I need say any more about him, except that
he bored me to extinction, especially after his fourth glass of port.

Perhaps, however, the son was worse, for he asked questions without
number and when at last I was reduced to silence, lectured me about
shooting. Yes, this callow youth who was at Sandhurst, instructed me,
Allan Quatermain, how to kill elephants, he who had never seen an
elephant except when he fed it with buns at the Zoo. At last Mr. Smith,
who to Scroope’s great amusement had taken the end of the table and
assumed the position of host, gave the signal to move and we adjourned
to the drawing-room.

I don’t know what had happened but there we found the atmosphere
distinctly stormy. The ample Mrs. Smith sat in a chair fanning herself,
which caused the barbaric ornaments she wore to clank upon her fat arm.
Upon either side of her, pale and indeterminate, stood Polly and Dolly
each pretending to read a book. Somehow the three of them reminded me
of a coat-of-arms seen in a nightmare, British Matron _sejant_ with
Modesty and Virtue as supporters. Opposite, on the other side of the
fire and evidently very angry, stood Lady Ragnall, _regardant_.

“Do I understand you to say, Luna,” I heard Mrs. A.-S. ask in resonant
tones as I entered the room, “that you actually played the part of a
heathen goddess among these savages, clad in a transparent bed-robe?”

“Yes, Mrs. Atterby-Smith,” replied Lady Ragnall, “and a nightcap of
feathers. I will put it on for you if you won’t be shocked. Or perhaps
one of your daughters——”

“Oh!” said both the young ladies together, “please be quiet. Here come
the gentlemen.”

After this there was a heavy silence broken only by the stifled giggles
in the background of Mrs. Scroope and the canon’s fluffy-headed wife,
who to do her justice had some fun in her. Thank goodness the evening,
or rather that part of it did not last long, since presently Mrs.
Atterby-Smith, after studying me for a long while with a cold eye, rose
majestically and swept off to bed followed by her offspring.

Afterwards I ascertained from Mrs. Scroope that Lady Ragnall had been
amusing herself by taking away my character in every possible manner
for the benefit of her connections, who were left with a general
impression that I was the chief of a native tribe somewhere in Central
Africa where I dwelt in light attire surrounded by the usual
accessories. No wonder, therefore, that Mrs. A.-S. thought it best to
remove her “Twin Pets,” as she called them, out of my ravening reach.

Then the Scroopes went away, having arranged for me to lunch with them
on the morrow, an invitation that I hastily accepted, though I heard
Lady Ragnall mutter—“Mean!” beneath her breath. With them departed the
canon and his wife and the curate, being, as they said, “early birds
with duties to perform.” After this Lady Ragnall paid me out by going
to bed, having instructed Moxley to show us to the smoking room,
“where,” she whispered as she said good night, “I hope you will enjoy
yourself.”

Over the rest of the night I draw a veil. For a solid hour and
three-quarters did I sit in that room between this dreadful pair, being
alternately questioned and lectured. At length I could stand it no
longer and while pretending to help myself to whiskey and soda, slipped
through the door and fled upstairs.

I arrived late to breakfast purposely and found that I was wise, for
Lady Ragnall was absent upstairs, recovering from “a headache.” Mr.
A.-Smith was also suffering from a headache downstairs, the result of
champagne, port and whisky mixed, and all his family seemed to have
pains in their tempers. Having ascertained that they were going to the
church in the park, I departed to one two miles away and thence walked
straight on to the Scroopes’ where I had a very pleasant time,
remaining till five in the afternoon. I returned to tea at the Castle
where I found Lady Ragnall so cross that I went to church again, to the
six o’clock service this time, only getting back in time to dress for
dinner. Here I was paid out for I had to take in Mrs. Atterby-Smith.
Oh! what a meal was that. We sat for the most part in solemn silence
broken only by requests to pass the salt. I observed with satisfaction,
however, that things were growing lively at the other end of the table
where A.-Smith _père_ was drinking a good deal too much wine. At last I
heard him say,

“We had hoped to spend a few days with you, my dear Luna. But as you
tell us that your engagements make this impossible”—and he paused to
drink some port, whereon Lady Ragnall remarked inconsequently,

“I assure you the ten o’clock train is far the best and I have ordered
the carriage at half-past nine, which is not very early.”

“As your engagements make this impossible,” he repeated, “we would ask
for the opportunity of a little family conclave with you to-night.”

Here all of them turned and glowered at me.

“Certainly,” said Lady Ragnall, “‘the sooner ‘tis over the sooner to
sleep.’ Mr. Quatermain, I am sure, will excuse us, will you not? I have
had the museum lit up for you, Mr. Quatermain. You may find some
Egyptian things there that will interest you.”

“Oh, with pleasure!” I murmured, and fled away.

I spent a very instructive two hours in the museum, studying various
Egyptian antiquities including a couple of mummies which rather
terrified me. They looked so very corpse-like standing there in their
wrappings. One was that of a lady who was a “Singer of Amen,” I
remember. I wondered where she was singing now and what song. Presently
I came to a glass case which riveted my attention, for above it was a
label bearing the following words: “Two Papyri given to Lady Ragnall by
the priests of the Kendah Tribe in Africa.” Within were the papyri
unrolled and beneath each of the documents, its translation, so far as
they could be translated for they were somewhat broken. No. 1, which
was dated, “In the first year of Peroa,” appeared to be the official
appointment of the Royal Lady Amada, to be the prophetess to the temple
of Isis and Horus the Child, which was also called Amada, and situated
on the east bank of the Nile above Thebes. Evidently this was the same
temple of which Lady Ragnall had written to me in her letter, where her
husband had met his death by accident, a coincidence which made me
start when I remembered how and where the document had come into her
hands and what kind of office she filled at the time.

The second papyrus, or rather its translation, contained a most
comprehensive curse upon any man who ventured to interfere with the
personal sanctity of this same Royal Lady of Amada, who, apparently in
virtue of her office, was doomed to perpetual celibacy like the vestal
virgins. I do not remember all the terms of the curse, but I know that
it invoked the vengeance of Isis the Mother, Lady of the Moon, and
Horus the Child upon anyone who should dare such a desecration, and in
so many words doomed him to death by violence “far from his own country
where first he had looked on Ra,” (i.e. the sun) and also to certain
spiritual sufferings afterwards.

The document gave me the idea that it was composed in troubled days to
protect that particularly sacred person, the Prophetess of Isis whose
cult, as I have since learned, was rising in Egypt at the time, from
threatened danger, perhaps at the hands of some foreign man. It
occurred to me even that this Princess, for evidently she was a
descendant of kings, had been appointed to a most sacred office for
that very purpose. Men who shrink from little will often fear to incur
the direct curse of widely venerated gods in order to obtain their
desires, even if they be not their own gods. Such were my conclusions
about this curious and ancient writing which I regret I cannot give in
full as I neglected to copy it at the time.

I may add that it seemed extremely strange to me that it and the other
which dealt with a particular temple in Egypt should have passed into
Lady Ragnall’s hands over two thousand years later in a distant part of
Africa, and that subsequently her husband should have been killed in
her presence whilst excavating the very temple to which they referred,
whence too in all probability they were taken. Moreover, oddly enough
Lady Ragnall had herself for a while filled the rôle of Isis in a
shrine whereof these two papyri had been part of the sacred
appurtenances for unknown ages, and one of her official titles there
was Prophetess and Lady of the Moon, whose symbol she wore upon her
breast.

Although I have always recognized that there are a great many more
things in the world than are dreamt of in our philosophy, I say with
truth and confidence that I am not a superstitious man. Yet I confess
that these papers and the circumstances connected with them, made me
feel afraid.

Also they made me wish that I had not come to Ragnall Castle.

Well, the Atterby-Smiths had so far effectually put a stop to any talk
of such matters and even if Lady Ragnall should succeed in getting rid
of them by that morning train, as to which I was doubtful, there
remained but a single day of my visit during which it ought not to be
hard to stave off the subject. Thus I reflected, standing face to face
with those mummies, till presently I observed that the Singer of Amen
who wore a staring, gold mask, seemed to be watching me with her oblong
painted eyes. To my fancy a sardonic smile gathered in them and spread
to the mouth.

“That’s what _you_ think,” this smile seemed to say, “as once before
you thought that Fate could be escaped. Wait and see, my friend. Wait
and see!”

“Not in this room any way,” I remarked aloud, and departed in a hurry
down the passage which led to the main staircase.

Before I reached its end a remarkable sight caused me to halt in the
shadow. The Atterby-Smith family were going to bed _en bloc_. They
marched in single file up the great stair, each of them carrying a hand
candle. Papa led and young Hopeful brought up the rear. Their
countenances were full of war, even the twins looked like angry lambs,
but something written on them informed me that they had suffered defeat
recent and grievous. So they vanished up the stairway and out of my ken
for ever.

When they had gone I started again and ran straight into Lady Ragnall.
If her guests had been angry, it was clear that _she_ was furious,
almost weeping with rage, indeed. Moreover, she turned and rent me.

“You are a wretch,” she said, “to run away and leave me all day long
with those horrible people. Well, they will never come here again, for
I have told them that if they do the servants have orders to shut the
door in their faces.”

Not knowing what to say I remarked that I had spent a most instructive
evening in the museum, which seemed to make her angrier than ever. At
any rate she whisked off without even saying “good night” and left me
standing there. Afterwards I learned that the A.-S.‘s had calmly
informed Lady Ragnall that she had stolen their property and demanded
that “as an act of justice” she should make a will leaving everything
she possessed to them, and meanwhile furnish them with an allowance of
£4,000 a year. What I did not learn were the exact terms of her answer.

Next morning Alfred, when he called me, brought me a note from his
mistress which I fully expected would contain a request that I should
depart by the same train as her other guests. Its real contents,
however, were very different.

“MY DEAR FRIEND,” it ran, “I am so ashamed of myself and so sorry for
my rudeness last night, for which I deeply apologise. If you knew all
that I had gone through at the hands of those dreadful mendicants, you
would forgive me.—L.R.”

“P.S.—I have ordered breakfast at 10. Don’t go down much before, for
your own sake.”

Somewhat relieved in my mind, for I thought she was really angry with
me, not altogether without cause, I rose, dressed and set to work to
write some letters. While I was doing so I heard the wheels of a
carriage beneath and opening my window, saw the Atterby-Smith family in
the act of departing in the Castle bus. Smith himself seemed to be
still enraged, but the others looked depressed. Indeed I heard the wife
of his bosom say to him,

“Calm yourself, my dear. Remember that Providence knows what is best
for us and that beggars on horseback are always unjust and ungrateful.”

To which her spouse replied,

“Hold your infernal tongue, will you,” and then began to rate the
servants about the luggage.

Well, off they went. Glaring through the door of the bus, Mr. Smith
caught sight of me leaning out of the window, seeing which I waved my
hand to him in adieu. His only reply to this courtesy was to shake his
fist, though whether at me or at the Castle and its inhabitants in
general, I neither know nor care.

When I was quite sure that they had gone and were not coming back again
to find something they had forgotten, I went downstairs and surprised a
conclave between the butler, Moxley, and his satellites, reinforced by
Lady Ragnall’s maid and two other female servants.

“Gratuities!” Moxley was exclaiming, which I thought a fine word for
tips, “not a smell of them! His gratuities were—‘Damn your eyes, you
fat bottle-washer,’ being his name for butler. _My_ eyes, mind you,
Ann, not Alfred’s or William’s, and that because he had tumbled over
his own rugs. Gentleman! Why, I name him a hog with his litter.”

“Hogs don’t have litters, Mr. Moxley,” observed Ann smartly.

“Well, young woman, if there weren’t no hogs, there’d be no litters, so
there! However, he won’t root about in this castle no more, for I
happened to catch a word or two of what passed between him and her
Ladyship last night. He said straight out that she was making love to
that little Mr. Quatermain who wanted her money, and probably not for
the first time as they had forgathered in Africa. A gentleman, mind
you, Ann, who although peculiar, I like, and who, the keeper Charles
tells me, is the best shot in the whole world.”

“And what did she say to that?” asked Ann.

“What did she say? What didn’t she say, that’s the question. It was
just as though all the furniture in the room got up and went for them
Smiths. Well, having heard enough, and more than I wanted, I stepped
off with the tray and next minute out they all come and grab the
bedroom candlesticks. That’s all and there’s her Ladyship’s bell.
Alfred, don’t stand gaping there but go and light the hot-plates.”

So they melted away and I descended from the landing, indignant but
laughing. No wonder that Lady Ragnall lost her temper!

Ten minutes later she arrived in the dining-room, waving a lighted
ribbon that disseminated perfume.

“What on earth are you doing?” I asked.

“Fumigating the house,” she said. “It is unnecessary as I don’t think
they were infectious, but the ceremony has a moral significance—like
incense. Anyway it relieves my feelings.”

Then she laughed and threw the remains of the ribbon into the fire,
adding,

“If you say a word about those people I’ll leave the room.”

I think we had one of the jolliest breakfasts I ever remember. To begin
with we were both hungry since our miseries of the night before had
prevented us from eating any dinner. Indeed she swore that she had
scarcely tasted food since Saturday. Then we had such a lot to talk
about. With short intervals we talked all that day, either in the house
or while walking through the gardens and grounds. Passing through the
latter I came to the spot on the back drive where once I had saved her
from being abducted by Harût and Marût, and as I recognized it, uttered
an exclamation. She asked me why and the end of it was that I told her
all that story which to this moment she had never heard, for Ragnall
had thought well to keep it from her.

She listened intently, then said,

“So I owe you more than I knew. Yet, I’m not sure, for you see I was
abducted after all. Also if I had been taken there, probably George
would never have married me or seen me again, and that might have been
better for him.”

“Why?” I asked. “You were all the world to him.”

“Is any woman ever all the world to a man, Mr. Quatermain?”

I hesitated, expecting some attack.

“Don’t answer,” she went on, “it would be too long and you wouldn’t
convince me who have been in the East. However, he was all the world to
me. Therefore his welfare was what I wished and wish, and I think he
would have had more of it if he had never married me.”

“Why?” I asked again.

“Because I brought him no good luck, did I? I needn’t go through all
the story as you know it. And in the end it was through me that he was
killed in Egypt.”

“Or through the goddess Isis,” I broke in rather nervously.

“Yes, the goddess Isis, a part I have played in my time, or something
like it. And he was killed in the temple of the goddess Isis. And those
papyri of which you read the translations in the museum, which were
given to me in Kendah Land, seem to have come from that same temple.
And—how about the Ivory Child? Isis in the temple evidently held a
child in her arms, but when we found her it had gone. Supposing this
child was the same as that of which I was guardian! It might have been,
since the papyri came from that temple. What do you think?”

“I don’t think anything,” I answered, “except that it is all very odd.
I don’t even understand what Isis and the child Horus represent. They
were not mere images either in Egypt or Kendah Land. There must be an
idea behind them somewhere.”

“Oh! there was. Isis was the universal Mother, Nature herself with all
the powers, seen and unseen, that are hidden in Nature; Love
personified also, although not actually the queen of Love like Hathor,
her sister goddess. The Horus child, whom the old Egyptians called
Heru-Hennu, signified eternal regeneration, eternal youth, eternal
strength and beauty. Also he was the Avenger who overthrew Set, the
Prince of Darkness, and thus in a way opened the Door of Life to men.”

“It seems to me that all religions have much in common,” I said.

“Yes, a great deal. It was easy for the old Egyptians to become
Christian, since for many of them it only meant worshipping Isis and
Horus under new and holier names. But come in, it grows cold.”

We had tea in Lady Ragnall’s boudoir and after it had been taken away
our conversation died. She sat there on the other side of the fire with
a cigarette between her lips, looking at me through the perfumed smoke
till I began to grow uncomfortable and to feel that a crisis of some
sort was at hand. This proved perfectly correct, for it was. Presently
she said,

“We took a long journey once together, Mr. Quatermain, did we not?”

“Undoubtedly,” I answered, and began to talk of it until she cut me
short with a wave of her hand, and went on,

“Well, we are going to take a longer one together after dinner
to-night.”

“What! Where! How!” I exclaimed much alarmed.

“I don’t know where, but as for how—look in that box,” and she pointed
to a little carved Eastern chest made of rose or sandal wood, that
stood upon a table between us.

With a groan I rose and opened it. Inside was another box made of
silver. This I opened also and perceived that within lay bundles of
dried leaves that looked like tobacco, from which floated an enervating
and well-remembered scent that clouded my brain for a moment. Then I
shut down the lids and returned to my seat.

“_Taduki_,” I murmured.

“Yes, _Taduki_, and I believe in perfect order with all its virtue
intact.”

“Virtue!” I exclaimed. “I don’t think there is any virtue about that
hateful and magical herb which I believe grew in the devil’s garden.
Moreover, Lady Ragnall, although there are few things in the world that
I would refuse you, I tell you at once that nothing will induce me to
have anything more to do with it.”

She laughed softly and asked why not.

“Because I find life so full of perplexities and memories that I have
no wish to make acquaintance with any more, such as I am sure lie hid
by the thousand in that box.”

“If so, don’t you think that they might clear up some of those which
surround you to-day?”

“No, for in such things there is no finality, since whatever one saw
would also require explanation.”

“Don’t let us argue,” she replied. “It is tiring and I daresay we shall
need all our strength to-night.”

I looked at her speechless. Why could she not take No for an answer? As
usual she read my thought and replied to it.

“Why did not Adam refuse the apple that Eve offered him?” she inquired
musingly. “Or rather why did he eat it after many refusals and learn
the secret of good and evil, to the great gain of the world which
thenceforward became acquainted with the dignity of labour?”

“Because the woman tempted him,” I snapped.

“Quite so. It has always been her business in life and always will be.
Well, I am tempting you now, and not in vain.”

“Do you remember who was tempting the woman?”

“Certainly. Also that he was a good school-master since he caused the
thirst for knowledge to overcome fear and thus laid the
foundation-stone of all human progress. That allegory may be read two
ways, as one of a rise from ignorance instead of a fall from
innocence.”

“You are too clever for me with your perverted notions. Also, you said
we were not to argue. I have therefore only to repeat that I will not
eat your apple, or rather, breathe your _Taduki_.”

“Adam over again,” she replied, shaking her head. “The same old
beginning and the same old end, because you see at last you will do
exactly what Adam did.”

Here she rose and standing over me, looked me straight in the eyes with
the curious result that all my will power seemed to evaporate. Then she
sat down again, laughing softly, and remarked as though to herself,

“Who would have thought that Allan Quatermain was a moral coward!”

“Coward,” I repeated. “Coward!”

“Yes, that’s the right word. At least you were a minute ago. Now
courage has come back to you. Why, it’s almost time to dress for
dinner, but before you go, listen. I have some power over you, my
friend, as you have some power over me, for I tell you frankly if you
wished me very much to do anything, I should have to do it; and the
same applies conversely. Now, to-night we are, as I believe, going to
open a great gate and to see wonderful things, glorious things that
will thrill us for the rest of our lives, and perhaps suggest to us
what is coming after death. You will not fail me, will you?” she
continued in a pleading voice. “If you do I must try alone since no one
else will serve, and then I _know_—how I cannot say—that I shall be
exposed to great danger. Yes, I think that I shall lose my mind once
more and never find it again this side the grave. You would not have
that happen to me, would you, just because you shrink from digging up
old memories?”

“Of course not,” I stammered. “I should never forgive myself.”

“Yes, of course not. There was really no need for me to ask you. Then
you promise you will do all I wish?” and once more she looked at me,
adding, “Don’t be ashamed, for you remember that I have been in touch
with hidden things and am not quite as other women are. You will
recollect I told you that which I have never breathed to any other
living soul, years ago on that night when first we met.”

“I promise,” I answered and was about to add something, I forget what,
when she cut me short, saying,

“That’s enough, for I know your word is rather better than your bond.
Now dress as quickly as you can or the dinner will be spoiled.”




CHAPTER IV.
THROUGH THE GATES


Short as was the time at my disposal before the dinner-gong sounded, it
proved ample for reflection. With every article of attire that I
discarded went some of that boudoir glamour till its last traces
vanished with my walking-boots. I was fallen indeed. I who had come to
this place so full of virtuous resolutions, could now only reflect upon
the true and universal meaning of our daily prayer that we might be
kept from temptation. And yet what had tempted me? For my life’s sake I
could not say. The desire to please a most charming woman and to keep
her from making solitary experiments of a dangerous nature, I suppose,
though whether they should be less dangerous carried out jointly
remained to be seen. Certainly it was not any wish to eat of her
proffered apple of Knowledge, for already I knew a great deal more than
I cared for about things in general. Oh! the truth was that woman is
the mightiest force in the world, at any rate where the majority of us
poor men is concerned. She commanded and I must obey.

I grew desperate and wondered if I could escape. Perhaps I might slip
out of the back door and run for it, without my great coat or hat
although the night was so cold and I should probably be taken up as a
lunatic. No, it was impossible for I had forged a chain that might not
be broken. I had passed my word of honour. Well, I was in for it and
after all what was there of which I need be afraid that I should
tremble and shrink back as though I were about to run away with
somebody’s wife, or rather to be run away with quite contrary to my own
inclination? Nothing at all. A mere nonsensical ordeal much less
serious than a visit to the dentist.

Probably that stuff had lost its strength by now—that is, unless it had
grown more powerful by keeping, as is the case with certain sorts of
explosives. And if it had not, the worst to be expected was a silly
dream, followed perhaps by headache. That is, unless I did not chance
to wake up again at all in this world, which was a most unpleasant
possibility. Another thing, suppose I woke and she didn’t! What should
I say then? Of a certainty I should find myself in the dock. Yes, and
there were further dreadful eventualities, quite conceivable, every one
of them, the very thought of which plunged me into a cold perspiration
and made me feel so weak that I was obliged to sit down.

Then I heard the gong; to me it sounded like the execution bell to a
prisoner under sentence of death. I crept downstairs feebly and found
Lady Ragnall waiting for me in the drawing-room, clothed with gaiety as
with a garment. I remember that it made me most indignant that she
could be so happy in such circumstances, but I said nothing. She looked
me up and down and remarked,

“Really from your appearance you might have seen the Ragnall ghost, or
be going to be married against your will, or—I don’t know what. Also
you have forgotten to fasten your tie.”

I looked in the glass. It was true, for there hung the ends down my
shirt front. Then I struggled with the wretched thing until at last she
had to help me, which she did laughing softly. Somehow her touch gave
me confidence again and enabled me to say quite boldly that I only
wanted my dinner.

“Yes,” she replied, “but you are not to eat much and you must only
drink water. The priestesses in Kendah Land told me that this was
necessary before taking _Taduki_ in its strongest form, as we are going
to do to-night. You know the prophet Harût only gave us the merest
whiff in this room years ago.”

I groaned and she laughed again.

That dinner with nothing to drink, although to avoid suspicion I let
Moxley fill my glass once or twice, and little to eat for my appetite
had vanished, went by like a bad dream. I recall no more about it until
I heard Lady Ragnall tell Moxley to see that there was a good fire in
the museum where we were going to study that night and must not be
disturbed.

Another minute and I was automatically opening the door for her. As she
passed she paused to do something to her dress and whispered,

“Come in a quarter of an hour. Mind—no port which clouds the
intellect.”

“I have none left to cloud,” I remarked after her.

Then I went back and sat by the fire feeling most miserable and staring
at the decanters, for never in my life do I remember wanting a bottle
of wine more. The big clock ticked and ticked and at last chimed the
quarter, jarring on my nerves in that great lonely banqueting hall.
Then I rose and crept upstairs like an evil-doer and it seemed to me
that the servants in the hall looked on me with suspicion, as well they
might.

I reached the museum and found it brilliantly lit, but empty except for
the cheerful company of the two mummies who also appeared to regard me
with gleaming but doubtful eyes. So I sat down there in front of the
fire, not even daring to smoke lest tobacco should complicate _Taduki_.

Presently I heard a low sound of laughter, looked up and nearly fell
backwards, that is, metaphorically, for the chair prevented such a
physical collapse.

It was not wonderful since before me, like a bride of ancient days
adorned for her husband, stood the goddess Isis—white robes, feathered
headdress, ancient bracelets, gold-studded sandals on bare feet,
scented hair, ruby necklace and all the rest. I stared, then there
burst from me words which were the last I meant to say,

“Great Heavens! how beautiful you are.”

“Am I?” she asked. “I am glad,” and she glided across the room and
locked the door.

“Now,” she said, returning, “we had better get to business, that is
unless you would like to worship the goddess Isis a little first, to
bring yourself into a proper frame of mind, you know.”

“No,” I replied, my dignity returning to me. “I do not wish to worship
any goddess, especially when she isn’t a goddess. It was not a part of
the bargain.”

“Quite so,” she said, nodding, “but who knows what you will be
worshipping before an hour is over? Oh! forgive me for laughing at you,
but I can’t help it. You are so evidently frightened.”

“Who wouldn’t be frightened?” I answered, looking with gloomy
apprehension at the sandal-wood box which had appeared upon a case full
of scarabs. “Look here, Lady Ragnall,” I added, “why can’t you leave
all this unholy business alone and let us spend a pleasant evening
talking, now that those Smith people have gone? I have lots of stories
about my African adventures which would interest you.”

“Because I want to hear my own African adventures, and perhaps yours
too, which I am sure will interest me a great deal more,” she exclaimed
earnestly. “You think it is all foolishness, but it is not. Those
Kendah priestesses told me much when I seemed to be out of my mind. For
a long time I did not remember what they said, but of late years,
especially since George and I began to excavate that temple, plenty has
come back to me bit by bit, fragments, you know, that make me desire to
learn the rest as I never desired anything else on earth. And the worst
of it has always been that from the beginning I have known—and
know—that this can only happen with you and through you, why I cannot
say, or have forgotten. That’s what sent me nearly wild with joy when I
heard that you were not only alive, but in this country. You won’t
disappoint me, will you? There is nothing I can offer you which would
have any value for you, so I can only beg you not to disappoint
me—well, because I am your friend.”

I turned away my head, hesitating, and when I looked up again I saw
that her beautiful eyes were full of tears. Naturally that settled the
matter, so I only said,

“Let us get on with the affair. What am I to do? Stop a bit. I may as
well provide against eventualities,” and going to a table I took a
sheet of notepaper and wrote:

“Lady Ragnall and I, Allan Quatermain, are about to make an experiment
with an herb which we discovered some years ago in Africa. If by any
chance this should result in accident to either or both of us, the
Coroner is requested to understand that it is not a case of murder or
of suicide, but merely of unfortunate scientific research.”


This I dated, adding the hour, 9.47 P.M., and signed, requesting her to
do the same.

She obeyed with a smile, saying it was strange that one who had lived a
life of such constant danger as myself, should be so afraid to die.

“Look here, young lady,” I replied with irritation, “doesn’t it occur
to you that _I_ may be afraid lest _you_ should die—and _I_ be hanged
for it,” I added by an afterthought.

“Oh! I see,” she answered, “that is really very nice of you. But, of
course, you would think like that; it is your nature.”

“Yes,” I replied. “Nature, not merit.”

She went to a cupboard which formed the bottom of one of the mahogany
museum cases, and extracted from it first of all a bowl of ancient
appearance made of some black stone with projecting knobs for handles
that were carved with the heads of women wearing ceremonial wigs; and
next a low tripod of ebony or some other black wood. I looked at these
articles and recognized them. They had stood in front of the sanctuary
in the temple in Kendah Land, and over them I had once seen this very
woman dressed as she was to-night, bend her head in the magic smoke
before she had uttered the prophecy of the passing of the Kendah god.

“So you brought these away too,” I said.

“Yes,” she replied with solemnity, “that they might be ready at the
appointed hour when we needed them.”

Then she spoke no more for a while, but busied herself with certain
rather eerie preparations. First she set the tripod and its bowl in an
open space which I was glad to note was at some distance from the fire,
since if either of us fell into that who would there be to take us off
before cremation ensued? Then she drew up a curved settee with a back
and arms, a comfortable-looking article having a seat that sloped
backwards like those in clubs, and motioned to me to sit down. This I
did with much the same sensations that are evoked by taking one’s place
upon an operation-table.

Next she brought that accursed _Taduki_ box, I mean the inner silver
one, the contents of which I heartily wished I had thrown upon the
fire, and set it down, open, near the tripod. Lastly she lifted some
glowing embers of wood from the grate with tongs, and dropped them into
the stone bowl.

“I think that’s all. Now for the great adventure,” she said in a voice
that was at once rapt and dreamy.

“What am I to do?” I asked feebly.

“That is quite simple,” she replied, as she sat herself down beside me
well within reach of the _Taduki_ box, the brazier being between us
with its tripod stand pressed against the edge of the couch, and in its
curve, so that we were really upon each side of it. “When the smoke
begins to rise thickly you have only to bend your head a little
forward, with your shoulders still resting against the settee, and
inhale until you find your senses leaving you, though I don’t know that
this is necessary for the stuff is subtle. Then throw your head back,
go to sleep and dream.”

“What am I to dream about?” I inquired in a vacuous way, for my senses
were leaving me already.

“You will dream, I think, of past events in which both of us played a
part, at least I hope so. I dreamt of them before in Kendah Land, but
then I was not myself, and for the most part they are forgotten.
Moreover, I learned that we can only see them all when we are together.
Now speak no more.”

This command, by the way, at once produced in me an intense desire for
prolonged conversation. It was not to be gratified, however, for at
that moment she stood up again facing the tripod and me, and began to
sing in a rich and thrilling voice. What she sang I do not know for I
could not understand the language, but I presume it was some ancient
chant that she learned in Kendah Land. At any rate, there she stood, a
lovely and inspired priestess clad in her sacerdotal robes, and sang,
waving her arms and fixing her eyes upon mine. Presently she bent down,
took a little of the _Taduki_ weed and with words of incantation,
dropped it upon the embers in the bowl. Twice she did this, then sat
herself upon the couch and waited.

A clear flame sprang up and burned for thirty seconds or so, I suppose
while it consumed the volatile oils in the weed. Then it died down and
smoke began to come, white, rich and billowy, with a very pleasant
odour resembling that of hot-house flowers. It spread out between us
like a fan, and though its veil I heard her say,

“The gates are wide. Enter!”

I knew what she meant well enough, and though for a moment I thought of
cheating, there is no other word for it, knew also that she had
detected the thought and was scorning me in her mind. At any rate I
felt that I must obey and thrust my head forward into the smoke, as a
green ham is thrust into a chimney. The warm vapour struck against my
face like fog, or rather steam, but without causing me to choke or my
eyes to smart. I drew it down my throat with a deep inhalation—once,
twice, thrice, then as my brain began to swim, threw myself back as I
had been instructed to do. A deep and happy drowsiness stole over me,
and the last thing I remember was hearing the clock strike the first
two strokes of the hour of ten. The third stroke I heard also, but it
sounded like to that of the richest-throated bell that ever boomed in
all the world. I remember becoming aware that it was the signal for the
rolling up of some vast proscenium, revealing behind it a stage that
was the world—nothing less.

What did I see? What did I see? Let me try to recall and record.

First of all something chaotic. Great rushes of vapour driven by mighty
winds; great seas, for the most part calm. Then upheavals and volcanoes
spouting fire. Then tropic scenes of infinite luxuriance. Terrific
reptiles feeding on the brinks of marshes, and huge elephant-like
animals moving between palms beyond. Then, in a glade, rough huts and
about them a jabbering crowd of creatures that were only half human,
for sometimes they stood upright and sometimes ran on their hands and
feet. Also they were almost covered with hair which was all they had in
the way of clothes, and at the moment that I met them, were terribly
frightened by the appearance of a huge mammoth, if that is the right
name for it, which walked into the glade and looked at us. At any rate
it was a beast of the elephant tribe which I judged to be nearly twenty
feet high, with enormous curving tusks.

The point of the vision was that I recognized myself among those hairy
jabberers, not by anything outward and visible, but by something inward
and spiritual. Moreover, I was being urged by a female of the race, I
can scarcely call her a woman, to justify my existence by tackling the
mammoth in her particular interest, or to give her up to someone who
would. In the end I tackled it, rushing forward with a weapon, I think
it was a sharp stone tied to a stick, though how I could expect to hurt
a beast twenty feet high with such a thing is more than I can
understand, unless perhaps the stone was poisoned.

At any rate the end was sudden. I threw the stone, whereat a great
trunk shot out from between the tusks and caught me. Round and round I
went in the air, reflecting as I did so, for I suppose at the time my
normal consciousness had not quite left me, that this was my first
encounter with the elephant Jana, also that it was very foolish to try
to oblige a female regardless of personal risk....

All became dark, as no doubt it would have done, but presently, that is
after a lapse of a great many thousands of years, or so it appeared to
me, light grew again. This time I was a black man living in something
not unlike a Kaffir kraal on the top of a hill.

There was shouting below and enemies attacked us; a woman rushed out of
a hut and gave me a spear and a shield, the latter made of wood with
white spots on it, and pointed to the path of duty which ran down the
hill. I followed in company with others, though without enthusiasm, and
presently met a roaring giant of a man at the bottom. I stuck my spear
into him and he stuck his into me, through the stomach, which hurt me
most abominably. After this I retired up the hill where the woman
pulled the spear out and gave it to another man. I remember no more.

Then followed a whole maze of visions, but really I cannot disentangle
them. Nor is it worth while doing so since after all they were only of
the nature of an overture, jumbled incidents of former lives, real or
imaginary, or so I suppose, having to do, all of them, with elementary
things, such as hunger and wounds and women and death.

At length these broken fragments of the past were swept away out of my
consciousness and I found myself face to face with something connected
and tangible, not too remote or unfamiliar for understanding. It was
the beginning of the real story.

I, please remember always that I knew it was I, Allan, and no one else,
that is, the same personality or whatever it may be which makes each
man different from any other man, saw myself in a chariot drawn by two
horses with arched necks and driven by a charioteer who sat on a little
seat in front. It was a highly ornamented, springless vehicle of wood
and gilded, something like a packing-case with a pole, or as we should
call it in South Africa, a disselboom, to which the horses were
harnessed. In this cart I stood arrayed in flowing robes fastened round
my middle by a studded belt, with strips of coloured cloth wound round
my legs and sandals on my feet. To my mind the general effect of the
attire was distinctly feminine and I did not like it at all.

I was glad to observe, however, that the I of those days was anything
but feminine. Indeed I could never have believed that once I was so
good-looking, even over two thousand years ago. I was not very tall but
extremely stalwart, burly almost, with an arm that as I could observe,
since it projected from the sleeve of my lady’s gown, would have done
no discredit to a prize-fighter, and a chest like a bull.

The face also I admired very much. The brow was broad; the black eyes
were full and proud-looking, the features somewhat massive but well-cut
and highly intelligent; the mouth firm and shapely, with lips that were
perhaps a trifle too thick; the hair—well, there was rather a failure
in the hair, at least according to modern ideas, for it curled so
beautifully as to suggest that one of my ancestors might have fallen in
love with a person of negroid origin. However there was lots of it,
hanging down almost to the shoulders and bound about the brow by a very
neat fillet of blue cloth with silver studs. The colour of my skin, I
was glad to note, was by no means black, only a light and pleasing
brown such as might have been produced by sunburn. My age, I might add,
was anywhere between five and twenty and five and thirty, perhaps
nearer the latter than the former, at any rate, the very prime of life.

For the rest, I held in my left hand a very stout, long bow of black
wood which seemed to have seen much service, with a string of what
looked like catgut, on which was set a broad-feathered, barbed arrow.
This I kept in place with the fingers of my right hand, on one of which
I observed a handsome gold ring with strange characters carved upon the
bezel.

Now for the charioteer.

He was black as night, black as a Sunday hat, with yellow rolling eyes
set in a countenance of extraordinary ugliness and I may add,
extraordinary humour. His big, wide mouth with thick lips ran up the
left side of his face towards an ear that was also big and projecting.
His hair, that had a feather stuck in it, was real nigger wool covering
a skull like a cannon ball and I should imagine as hard. This head, by
the way, was set plumb upon the shoulders, as though it had been driven
down between them by a pile hammer. They were very broad shoulders
suggesting enormous strength, but the gaily-clad body beneath, which
was supported by two bowed legs and large, flat feet, was that of a
dwarf who by the proportions of his limbs Nature first intended for a
giant; yes, an Ethiopian dwarf.

Looking through this remarkable exterior, as it were, I recognized that
inside of it was the soul, or animating principle, of—whom do you
think? None other than my beloved old servant and companion, the
Hottentot Hans whose loss I had mourned for years! Hans himself who
died for me, slaying the great elephant, Jana, in Kendah Land, the
elephant I could not hit, and thereby saving my life. Oh! although I
had been obliged to go back to the days of I knew not what ancient
empire to do so in my trance, or whatever it was, I could have wept
with joy at finding him again, especially as I knew by instinct that as
he loved the Allan Quatermain of to-day, so he loved this Egyptian in a
wheeled packing-case, for I may as well say at once that such was my
nationality in the dream.

Now I looked about me and perceived that my chariot was the second of a
cavalcade. Immediately in front of it was one infinitely more gorgeous
in which stood a person who even if I had not known it, I should have
guessed to be a king, and who, as a matter of fact, was none other than
the King of kings, at that time the absolute master of most of the
known world, though what his name may have been, I have no notion. He
wore a long flowing robe of purple silk embroidered with gold and bound
in at the waist by a jewelled girdle from which hung the private,
sacred seal; the little “White Seal” that, as I learned afterwards, was
famous throughout the earth.

On his head was a stiff cloth cap, also purple in colour, round which
was fastened a fillet of light blue stuff spotted with white. The best
idea that I can give of its general appearance is to liken it to a tall
hat of fashionable shape, without a brim, slightly squashed in so that
it bulged at the top, and surrounded by a rather sporting necktie.
Really, however, it was the _kitaris_ or headdress of these monarchs
worn by them alone. If anyone else had put on that hat, even by mistake
in the dark, well, his head would have come off with it, that is all.

This king held a bow in his hand with an arrow set upon its string,
just as I did, for we were out hunting, and as I shall have to narrate
presently, lions are no respecters of persons. By his side, leaning
against the back of the chariot, was a tall, sharp-pointed wand of
cedar wood with a knob of some green precious stone, probably an
emerald, fashioned to the likeness of an apple. This was the royal
sceptre. Immediately behind the chariot walked several great nobles.
One of them carried a golden footstool, another a parasol, furled at
the moment; another a spare bow and a quiver of arrows, and another a
jewelled fly-whisk made of palm fibre.

The king, I should add, was young, handsome with a curled beard and
clear-cut, high-bred looking features; his face, however, was bad,
cruel and stamped with an air of weariness, or rather, satiety, which
was emphasized by the black circles beneath his fine dark eyes.
Moreover pride seemed to emanate from him and yet there was something
in his bearing and glances which suggested fear. He was a god who knows
that he is mortal and is therefore afraid lest at any moment he may be
called upon to lose his godship in his mortality.

Not that he dreaded the perils of the chase; he was too much of a man
for that. But how could he tell lest among all that crowd of crawling
nobles, there was not one who had a dagger ready for his back, or a
phial of poison to mix with his wine or water? He with all the world in
the hollow of his hand, was filled with secret terrors which as I
learned since first I seemed to see him thus, fulfilled themselves at
the appointed time. For this man of blood was destined to die in blood,
though not by murder.

The cavalcade halted. Presently a fat eunuch glittering in his
gold-wrought garments like some bronzed beetle in the sunlight, came
waddling back towards me. He was odious and I knew that we hated each
other.

“Greeting, Egyptian,” he said, mopping his brow with his sleeve for the
sun was hot. “An honour for you! A great honour! The King of kings
commands your presence. Yes, he would speak with you with his own lips,
and with that abortion of a servant of yours also. Come! Come swiftly!”

“Swift as an arrow, Houman,” I answered laughing, “seeing that for
three moons I, like an arrow, have rested upon the string and flown no
nearer to his Majesty.”

“Three moons!” screeched the eunuch. “Why, many wait three years and
many go to the grave still waiting; bigger men than you, Egyptian,
though I hear you do claim to be of royal blood yonder on the Nile. But
talk not of arrows flying towards the most High, for surely it is
ill-omened and might earn you another honour, that of the string,” and
he made a motion suggestive of a cord encircling his throat. “Man,
leave your bow behind! Would you appear before the King armed? Yes, and
your dagger also.”

“Perchance a lion might appear before the King and he does not leave
his claws and teeth behind,” I answered drily as I divested myself of
my weapons.

Then we started, the three of us, leaving the chariot in charge of a
soldier.

“Draw your sleeves over your hands,” said the eunuch. “None must appear
before the King showing his hands, and, dwarf, since you have no
sleeves, thrust yours into your robe.”

“What am I to do with my feet?” he answered in a thick, guttural voice.
“Will it offend the King of kings to see my feet, most noble eunuch?”

“Certainly, certainly,” answered Houman, “since they are ugly enough to
offend even me. Hide them as much as possible. Now we are near, down on
your faces and crawl forward slowly on your knees and elbows, as I do.
Down, I say!”

So down I went, though with anger in my heart, for be it remembered
that I, the modern Allan Quatermain, knew every thought and feeling
that passed through the mind of my prototype.

It was as though I were a spectator at a play, with this difference. I
could read the motives and reflections of this former _ego_ as well as
observe his actions. Also I could rejoice when he rejoiced, weep when
he wept and generally feel all that he felt, though at the same time I
retained the power of studying him from my own modern standpoint and
with my own existing intelligence. Being two we still were one, or
being one we still were two, whichever way you like to put it. Lastly I
lacked these powers with reference to the other actors in the piece. Of
these I knew just as much, or as little as my former self knew, that is
if he ever really existed. There was nothing unnatural in my faculties
where they were concerned. I had no insight into their souls any more
than I have into those of the people about me to-day. Now I hope that I
have made clear my somewhat uncommon position with reference to these
pages from the Book of the Past.

Well, preceded by the eunuch and followed by the dwarf, I crawled
though the sand in which grew some thorny plants that pricked my knees
and fingers, towards the person of the Monarch of the World. He had
descended from his chariot by help of a footstool, and was engaged in
drinking from a golden cup, while his attendants stood around in
various attitudes of adoration, he who had handed him the cup being
upon his knees. Presently he looked up and saw us.

“Who are these?” he asked in a high voice that yet was not unmusical,
“and why do you bring them into my presence?”

“May it please the King,” answered our guide, knocking his head upon
the ground in a very agony of humiliation, “may it please the King——”

“It would please me better, dog, if you answered my question. Who are
they?”

“May it please the King, this is the Egyptian hunter and noble,
Shabaka.”

“I hear,” said his Majesty with a gleam of interest in his tired eyes,
“and what does this Egyptian here?”

“May it please the King, the King bade me bring him to the presence,
but now when the chariots halted.”

“I forgot; you are forgiven. But who is that with him? Is it a man or
an ape?”

Here I screwed my head round and saw that my slave in his efforts to
obey the eunuch’s instructions and hide his feet, had made himself into
a kind of ball, much as a hedgehog does, except that his big head
appeared in front of the ball.

“O King, that I understand is the Egyptian’s servant and charioteer.”

Again he looked interested, and exclaimed,

“Is it so? Then Egypt must be a stranger country than I thought if such
ape-men live there. Stand up, Egyptian, and bid your ape stand up also,
for I cannot hear men who speak with their mouths in the dust.”

So I rose and saluted by lifting both my hands and bowing as I had
observed others do, trying, however, to keep them covered by my
sleeves. The King looked me up and down, then said briefly,

“Set out your name and the business that brought you to my city.”

“May the King live for ever,” I replied. “As this lord said,” and I
pointed to the eunuch——

“He is not a lord but a dog,” interrupted the Monarch, “who wears the
robe of women. But continue.”

“As this dog who wears the robe of women said”—here the King laughed,
but the eunuch, Houman, turned green with rage and glowered at me—“my
name is Shabaka. I am a descendant of the Ethiopian king of Egypt of
that same name.”

“It seems from all I hear that there are too many descendants of kings
in Egypt. When I visit that land which perhaps soon I must do with an
army at my back,” here he stared at me coldly, “it may be well to
lessen their number. There is a certain Peroa for instance.”

He paused, but I made no answer, since Peroa was my father’s cousin and
of the fallen Royal House; also the protector of my youth.

“Well, Shabaka,” he went on, “in Persia royal blood is common also,
though some of us think it looks best when it is shed. What else are
you?”

“A slayer of royal beasts, O King of kings, a hunter of lions and of
elephants,” (this statement interested me, Allan Quatermain, intensely,
showing me as it did that our tastes are very persistent); “also when I
am at home, a breeder of cattle and a grower of grain.”

“Good trades, all of them, Shabaka. But why came you here?”

“Idernes the satrap of Egypt, servant of the King of kings, sought for
one who would travel to the East because the King of kings desired to
hear of the hunting of lions in the lands that lie to the south of
Egypt towards the beginnings of the great river. Then I, who desired to
see new countries, said, ‘Here am I. Send me.’ So I came and for three
moons have dwelt in the royal city, but till this hour have scarcely so
much as seen the face of the great King, although by many messengers I
have announced my presence, showing them the letters of Idernes giving
me safe-conduct. Therefore I propose to-morrow or the next day to
return to Egypt.”

The King said a word and a scribe appeared whom he commanded to take
note of my words and let the matter be inquired of, since some should
suffer for this neglect, a saying at which I saw Houman and certain of
the nobles turn pale and whisper to each other.

“Now I remember,” he exclaimed, “that I did desire Idernes to send me
an Egyptian hunter. Well, you are here and we are about to hunt the
lion of which there are many in yonder reeds, hungry and fierce beasts,
since for three days they have been herded in so that they can kill no
food. How many lions have you slain, Shabaka?”

“Fifty and three in all, O King, not counting the cubs.”

He stared at me, answering with a sneer,

“You Egyptians have large mouths. I have always heard it of you. Well,
to-day we will see whether you can kill a fifty-fourth. In an hour when
the sun begins to sink, the hounds will be loosed in yonder reeds and
since the water is behind them, the lions will come out, and then we
shall see.”

Now I saw that the King thought me to be a liar and the blood rose to
my head.

“Why wait till the sun begins to sink, O King of kings?” I said. “Why
not enter the reeds, as is our fashion in the Land of Kush, and rouse
the lions from sleep in their own lair?”

Now the King laughed outright and called in a loud voice to his
courtiers,

“Do ye hear this boasting Egyptian, who talks of entering the reeds and
facing the lions in their lair, a thing that no man dare do where none
can see to shoot? What say ye now? Shall we ask him to prove his
words?”

Some great lord stepped forward, one who was a hunter though he looked
little like it, for the scent on his hair reached me from four paces
away and there was paint upon his face.

“Yes, O King,” he said in a mincing voice, “let him enter and kill a
lion. But if he fail, then let a lion kill him. There are some hungry
in the palace den and it is not fit that the King’s ears should be
filled with empty words by foreigners from Egypt.”

“So be it,” said the King. “Egyptian, you have brought it on your own
head. Prove that you can do what you say and I will give you great
honour. Fail, and to the lions with him who lies of lions. Still,” he
added, “it is not right that you should go alone. Choose therefore one
of these lords to keep you company; he who would put you to the test,
if you will.”

Now I looked at the scented noble who turned pale beneath his paint.
Then I looked at the fat eunuch, Houman, who opened his mouth and
gasped like a fish, and when I had looked, I shook my head and said as
though to myself,

“Not so, no woman and no eunuch shall be my companion on this quest,”
whereat the King and all the rest laughed out loud. “The dwarf and I
will go alone.”

“The dwarf!” said the King. “Can he hunt lions also?”

“No, O King, but perchance he can smell them, for otherwise how shall I
find them in that thicket within an hour?”

“Perchance they can smell him. How is the ape-man named?” asked the
King.

“Bes, O King, after the god of the Egyptians whom he resembles.”

“Dare you accompany your master on this hunt, O Bes?” inquired the
King.

Then Bes looked up, rolling his yellow eyes, and answered in his thick
and guttural voice,

“I am my master’s slave and dare I refuse to accompany him? If I did he
might kill me, as the King of kings kills his slaves. It is better to
die with honour by the teeth of a lion, than with dishonour beneath the
whip of a master. So at least we think in Ethiopia.”

“Well spoken, dwarf Bes!” exclaimed the King. “So would I have all men
think throughout the East. Let the words of this Ethiop be written down
and copies of them sent to the satraps of all the provinces that they
may be read to the peoples of the earth. I the King have decreed it.”




CHAPTER V.
THE WAGER


While the scribes were at their work I bowed before the King and prayed
his leave that I and the dwarf Bes might get to ours.

“Go,” he said, “and return here within an hour. If you do not return
tidings of your death shall be sent to the satrap of Egypt to be told
to your wives.”

“I thank the King, but it is needless, for I have no wives, which are
ill company for a hunter.”

“Strange,” he said, “since many women would be glad to name such a man
their husband, at least here among us Easterns.”

Walking backwards and bowing as we went, Bes and I returned to our
chariot. There we stripped off our outer garments till Bes was naked
save for his waistcloth and I was clad only in a jerkin. Then I took my
bow, my arrows and my knife, and Bes took two spears, one light for
throwing and the other short, broad and heavy for stabbing. Thus armed
we passed back before the Easterns who stared at us, and advanced to
the edge of the thicket of tall reeds that was full of lions.

Here Bes took dust and threw it into the air that we might learn from
which quarter the light wind blew.

“We will go against the breeze, Lord,” he said, “that I may smell the
lions before they smell us.”

I nodded, and answered,

“Hearken, Bes. Well may it be that we kill no lions in this place where
it is hard to shoot. Yet I would not return to be thrown to wild beasts
by yonder evil king. Therefore if we fail in this or in any other way,
do you kill me, if you still live.”

He rolled his eyes and grinned.

“Not so, Master. Then we will win through the reeds and lie hid in
their edge till darkness comes, for in them those half-men will never
dare to seek for us. Afterwards we will swim the water and disguise
ourselves as jugglers and try to reach the coast, and so back to Egypt,
having learned much. Never stretch out your hand to Death till he
stretches out his to you, which he will do soon enough, Master.”

Again I nodded and said,

“And if a lion should kill me, Bes, what then?”

“Then, Master, I will kill that lion if I can and go report the matter
to the King.”

“And if he should wish to throw you to the beasts, Bes, what then?”

“Then, first I will drag him down to the greatest of all beasts, he who
waits to devour evil-doers in the Under-world, be they kings or
slaves,” and he stretched out his long arms and made a motion as of
clutching a man by the throat. “Oh! have no fear, Master, I can break
him like a stick, and afterwards we will talk the matter over among the
dead, for I shall swallow my tongue and die also. It is a good trick,
Master, which I wish you would learn.”

Then he took my hand and kissed it and we entered the reeds, I, who was
a hunter, feeling more happy than I had done since we set foot in the
East.

Yet the quest was desperate for the reeds were tall and often I could
not see more than a bow’s length in front of me. Presently, however, we
found a path made perchance by game coming down to drink, or by
crocodiles coming up to sleep, and followed it, I with an arrow on my
string and Bes with the throwing spear in his right hand and the
stabbing spear in his left, half a pace ahead of me. On we crept, Bes
drawing in the air through his great nostrils as a hound might do, till
suddenly he stopped and sniffed towards the north.

“I smell lion near,” he whispered, searching among the reed stems with
his eyes. “I see lion,” he whispered again, and pointed, but I could
see nothing save the stems of the reeds.

“Rouse him,” I whispered back, “and I will shoot as he bounds.”

Then Bes poised the spear, shook it till it quivered, and threw. There
was a roar and a lioness appeared with the spear fast in her flank. I
loosed the arrow but it cut into the thick reeds and stuck there.

“Forward!” whispered Bes, “for where woman is, there look for man. The
lion will be near.”

We crept on, Bes stopping to cut the arrow from a reed and set it back
in the quiver, for it was a good arrow made by himself. But now he
shifted the broad spear to his right hand and in his left held his
knife. We heard the wounded lioness roar not far away.

“She calls her man to help her,” whispered Bes, and as the words left
his lips the reeds down wind began to sway, for we were smelt.

They swayed, they parted and, half seen, half hid between their stems,
appeared the head of a great, black-maned lion. I drew the string and
shot, this time not in vain, for I heard the arrow thud upon his hide.
Then before I could set another he was on us, reared upon his hind legs
and roaring. As I drew my dagger he struck at me, but I bent down and
his paw went over my head. Then his weight came against me and I fell
beneath him, stabbing him in the belly as I fell. I saw his mighty jaws
open to crush my head. Then they shut again and through them burst a
whine like that of a hurt dog.

Bes had driven his spear into the lion’s breast, so deep that the point
of it came out through the back. Still he was not dead, only now it was
Bes he sought. The dwarf ran at him as he reared up again, and casting
his great arms about the brute’s body, wrestled with him as man with
man.

Then it was, for the first time I think, that I learned all the
Ethiopian’s strength. For he, a dwarf, threw that lion on its back and
thrusting his big head beneath the jaws, struggled with it madly. I was
up, the knife still in my hand, and oh! I too was strong. Into the
throat I drove it, dragging it this way and that, and lo! the lion
moaned and died and his blood gushed out over both of us. Then Bes sat
up and laughed, and I too laughed, since neither of us had more than
scratches and we had done what men could scarcely do.

“Do you remember, Master,” said Bes when he had finished laughing, as
he wiped his brow with some damp moss, “how, once far away up the Nile
you charged a mad elephant with a spear and saved me who had fallen,
from being trampled to death?”

I, Shabaka, answered that I did. (And I, Allan Quatermain, observing
all these things in my psychic trance in the museum of Ragnall Castle,
reflected that I also remembered how a certain Hans had saved me from a
certain mad elephant, to wit, Jana, not so long before, which just
shows how things come round.)

“Yes,” went on Bes, “you saved me from that elephant, though it seemed
death to you. And, Master, I will tell you something now. That very
morning I had tried to poison you, only you would not wait to eat
because the elephants were near.”

“Did you?” I asked idly. “Why?”

“Because two years before you captured me in battle with some of my
people, and as I was misshapen, or for pity’s sake, spared my life and
made me your slave. Well, I who had been a chief, a very great chief,
Master, did not wish to remain a slave and did wish to avenge my
people’s blood. Therefore I tried to poison you, and that very day you
saved my life, offering for it your own.”

“I think it was because I wanted the tusks of the elephant, Bes.”

“Perhaps, Master, only you will remember that this elephant was a young
cow and had no tusks worth anything. Still had it carried tusks, it
might have been so, since one white tusk is worth many black dwarfs.
Well, to-day I have paid you back. I say it lest you should forget that
had it not been for me, that lion would have eaten you.”

“Yes, Bes, you have paid me back and I thank you.”

“Master, hitherto I always thought you one who worshipped Maat, goddess
of Truth. Now I see that you worship the god of Lies, whoever he may
be, that god who dwells in the breasts of women and most men, but has
no name. For, Master, it was _you_ who saved _me_ from the lion and not
I you, since you cut its throat at the last. So that debt of mine is
still to pay and by the great Grasshopper which we worship in my
country, who is much better than all the gods of the Egyptians put
together, I swear that I will pay it soon, or mayhap ten thousand years
hence. At the last it shall be paid.”

“Why do you worship a grasshopper and why is he better than the gods of
the Egyptians?” I asked carelessly, for I was tired and his talk amused
me while we rested.

“We worship the Grasshopper, Master, because he jumps with men’s
spirits from one life to another, or from this world to the next, yes,
right through the blue sky. And he is better than your Egyptian gods
because they leave you to find your own way there, and then eat you
alive, that is if you have tried to poison people, as of course we have
all done. But, Master, we are fresh again now, so let us be going, for
the hour will soon be finished. Also when she has eaten the spear
handle, that lioness may return.”

“Yes,” I said; “let us go and report to the King of kings that we have
killed a lion.”

“Master, it is not enough. Even common kings believe little that they
do not see, wherefore it is certain that a King of kings will believe
nothing and still more certain that he will not come here to look. So
as we cannot carry the lion, we must take a bit of it,” and straightway
he cut off the end of the brute’s tail.

Following the crocodile path, presently we reached the edge of the
reeds opposite to the camp where the King now sat in state beneath a
purple pavilion that had been reared, eating a meal, with his courtiers
standing at a distance and looking very hungry.

Out of the reeds bounded Bes, naked and bloody, waving the lion’s tail
and singing some wild Ethiopian chant, while I, also bloody and half
naked, for the lion’s claws had torn my jerkin off me, followed with
bow unstrung.

The King looked up and saw us.

“What! Do you live, Egyptian?” he asked. “Of a surety I thought that by
now you would be dead.”

“It was the lion that died, O King,” I answered, pointing to Bes who,
having ceased from his song, was jumping about carrying the beast’s
tail in his mouth as a dog carries a bone.

“It seems that this Egyptian has killed a lion,” said the King to one
of his lords, him of the painted face and scented hair.

“May it please the King,” he answered, bowing, “a tail is not the whole
beast and may have been taken thither, or cut from a lion lying dead
already. The King knows that the Egyptians are great liars.”

So he spoke because he was jealous of the deed.

“These men look as though they had met a live one, not one that is
dead,” said the King, scanning our blood-stained shapes. “Still, as you
doubt it, you will wish to put the matter to the proof. Therefore,
Cousin, take six men with you, enter the reeds and search. In that soft
ground it will be easy to follow their footmarks.”

“It is dangerous, O King,” began the prince, for such he was, no less.

“And therefore the task will be the more to your taste, Cousin. Go now,
and be swift.”

So six hunters were called and the prince went, cursing me beneath his
breath as he passed us. For he was terribly afraid, and with reason.
Suddenly Bes ceased from his antics and prostrating himself, cried,

“A boon, O King. This noble lord throws doubt upon my master’s word.
Suffer that I may lead him to where the lion lies dead, since otherwise
wandering in those reeds the great King’s cousin might come to harm and
the great King be grieved.”

“I have many cousins,” said the King. “Still go if you wish, Dwarf.”

So Bes ran after the prince and catching him up, tapped him on the
shoulder with the lion’s tail to point out the way. Then they vanished
into the reeds and I went to the chariot to wash off the blood from my
body and clothes. As I fastened my robe I heard a sound of roaring,
then one scream, after which all grew still. Now I drew near to the
reeds and stood between them and the King’s camp.

Presently on their edge appeared Bes dancing and singing as before, but
this time he held a lion’s tail in either hand. After him came the six
hunters dragging between them the body of the lion we had killed. They
staggered with it towards the King, and I followed.

“I see the dwarf,” he said. “I see the dead lion and I see the hunters.
But where is my cousin? Make report, O Bes.”

“O King of kings,” replied Bes, “the mighty prince your cousin lies
flat yonder beneath the body of that lion’s wife. She sprang upon him
and killed him, and I sprang upon her and killed her with my spear.
Here is her tail, O King of kings.”

“Is this true?” he asked of the hunters.

“It is true, O King,” answered their captain. “The lioness, which was
wounded, leapt upon the prince, choosing him although he was behind us
all. Then this dwarf leapt upon the lioness, being behind the prince
and nearest to him, and drove his spear through her shoulders to her
heart. So we brought the first lion as the King commanded us, since we
could carry no more.”

The face of the King grew red with rage.

“Seven of my people and one black dwarf!” he exclaimed. “Yet the
lioness kills my cousin and the dwarf kills the lioness. Such is the
tale that will go to Egypt concerning the hunters of the King of the
world. Seize those men, Guards, and let them be fed to the wild beasts
in the palace dens.”

At once the unfortunates were seized and led away. Then the King called
Bes to him, and taking the gold chain he wore about his neck, threw it
over his head, thereby, though I knew nothing of it at the time,
conferring upon him some noble rank. Next he called to me and said,

“It would seem that you are skilled in the use of the bow and in the
hunting of lions, Egyptian. Therefore I will honour you, for this
afternoon your chariot shall drive with my chariot, and we will hunt
side by side. Moreover, I will lay you a wager as to which of us will
kill the most lions, for know, Shabaka, that I also am skilled in the
use of the bow, more skilled than any among the millions of my
subjects.”

“Then, O King, it is of little use for me to match myself against you,
seeing that I have met men who can shoot better than I do, or, since in
the East all must speak nothing but the truth, not being liars as the
dead prince said we Egyptians are, one man.”

“Who was that man, Shabaka?”

“The Prince Peroa, O King.”

The King frowned as though the name displeased him, then answered,

“Am I not greater than this Peroa and cannot I therefore shoot better?”

“Doubtless, O King of kings, and therefore how can I who shoot worse
than Peroa, match myself against you?”

“For which reason I will give you odds, Shabaka. Behold this rope of
rose-hued pearls I wear. They are unequalled in the whole world, for
twenty years the merchants sought them in the days of my father; half
of them would buy a satrapy. I wager them”—here the listening nobles
gasped and the fat eunuch, Houman, held up his hands in horror.

“Against what, O King?”

“Your slave Bes, to whom I have taken a fancy.”

Now I trembled and Bes rolled his yellow eyes.

“Your pardon, O King of kings,” I said, “but it is not enough. I am a
hunter and to such, priceless pearls are of little use. But to me that
dwarf is of much use in my hunting.”

“So be it, Shabaka, then I will add to the wager. If you win, together
with the pearls I will give you the dwarf’s weight in solid gold.”

“The King is bountiful,” I answered, “but it is not enough, for even if
I win against one who can shoot better than Peroa, which is impossible,
what should I do with so much gold? Surely for the sake of it I should
be murdered or ever I saw the coasts of Egypt.”

“What shall I add then?” asked the King. “The most beauteous maiden in
the House of Women?”

I shook my head. “Not so, O King, for then I must marry who would
remain single.”

“There is no need, you might sell her to your friend, Peroa. A
satrapy?”

“Not so, O King, for then I must govern it, which would keep me from my
hunting, until it pleased the King to take my head.”

“By the name of the holy ones I worship what then do you ask added to
the pearls and the pure gold?”

Now I tried to bethink me of something that the King could not grant,
since I had no wish for this match which my heart warned me would end
in trouble. As no thought came to me I looked at Bes and saw that he
was rolling his eyes towards the six doomed hunters who were being led
away, also in pretence of driving off a fly, pointing to them with one
of the lion tails. Then I remembered that a decree once uttered by the
King of the East could not be altered, and saw a road of escape.

“O King,” I said, “together with the pearls and the gold I ask that the
lives of those six hunters be added to the wager, to be spared if by
chance I should win.”

“Why?” asked the King amazed.

“Because they are brave men, O King, and I would not see the bones of
such cracked by tame beasts in a cage.”

“Is my judgment registered?” asked the King.

“Not yet, O King,” answered the head scribe.

“Then it has no weight and can be suspended without the breaking of the
law. Shabaka, thus stands our wager. If I kill more lions than you do
this day, or, should but two be slain, I kill the first, or should none
be slain, I plant more arrows in their bodies, I take your slave, Bes
the dwarf, to be my slave. But should you have the better of me in any
of these ways, then I give to you this girdle of rose pearls and the
weight of the dwarf Bes in gold and the six hunters free of harm, to do
with what you will. Let it be recorded, and to the hunt.”

Soon Bes and I were in our chariot which by command took place in line
with that of the King, but at a distance of some thirty steps. Bending
over the dwarf who drove, I spoke with him, saying,

“Our luck is ill to-day, Bes, seeing that before the end of it we may
well be parted.”

“Not so, Master, our luck is good to-day seeing that before the end of
it you will be the richer by the finest pearls in the whole world, by
my weight in pure gold (and Master, I am twice as heavy as the king
thought and will stuff myself with twenty pounds of meat before the
weighing, if I have the chance, or at least with water, though in this
hot place that will not last for long), and by six picked huntsmen,
brave men as you thought, who will serve to escort us and our treasure
to the coast.”

“First I must win the match, Bes.”

“Which you could do with one eye blinded, Master, and a sore finger.
Kings think that they can shoot because all the worms that crawl about
them and are named men, dare not show themselves their betters. Oh! I
have heard tales in yonder city. There have been days when this Lord of
the world has missed six lions with as many arrows, and they seated
smiling in his face, being but tamed brutes brought from far in cages
of wood, yes, smiling like cats in the sun. Look you, Master, he drinks
too much wine and sits up too late in his Women’s house—there are three
hundred of them there, Master—to shoot as you and I can. If you doubt
it, look at his eyes and hands. Oh! the pearls and the gold and the men
are yours, and that painted prince who mocked us is where he ought to
be—dead in the mud.

“Did I tell you how I managed that, Master? As you know better than I
do, lions hate those that have on them the smell of their own blood.
Therefore, while I pointed out the way to him, I touched the painted
prince with the bleeding tail of that which we killed, pretending that
it was by chance, for which he cursed me, as well he might. So when we
came to the dead lion and, as I had expected, met there the lioness you
had wounded, she charged through the hunters at him who smelt of her
husband, and bit his head off.”

“But, Bes, you smelt of him also, and worse.”

“Yes, Master, but that painted cousin of the King came first. I kept
well behind him, pretending to be afraid,” and he chuckled quietly,
adding, “I expect that he is now telling an angry tale about me to
Osiris, or to the Grasshopper that takes him there, as it may happen.”

“These Easterns worship neither Osiris, nor your Grasshopper, Bes, but
a flame of fire.”

“Then he is telling the tale to the fire, and I hope that it will get
tired and burn him.”

So we talked merrily enough because we had done great deeds and thought
that we had outwitted the Easterns and the King, not knowing all their
craft. For none had told us that that man who hunted with the King and
yet dared to draw arrow upon the quarry before the King should be put
to death as one who had done insult to his Majesty. This that royal fox
remembered and therefore was sure that he would win the wager.

Now the chariots turned and passing down a path came to an open space
that was cleared of reeds. Here they halted, that of the King and my
own side by side with ten paces between them, and those of the court
behind. Meanwhile huntsmen with dogs entered the great brake far away
to the right and left of us, also in front, so that the lions might be
driven backwards and forwards across the open space.

Soon we heard the hounds baying on all sides. Then Bes made a sucking
noise with his great lips and pointed to the edge of the reeds in front
of us some sixty paces away. Looking, I saw a yellow shape creeping
along between their dark stems, and although the shot was far,
forgetting all things save I was a hunter and there was my game, I drew
the arrow to my ear, aimed and loosed, making allowance for its fall
and for the wind.

Oh! that shot was good. It struck the lion in the body and pierced him
through. Out he came, roaring, rolling, and tearing at the ground. But
by now I had another arrow on the string, and although the King lifted
his bow, I loosed first. Again it struck, this time in the throat, and
that lion groaned and died.

The King looked at me angrily, and from the court behind rose a murmur
of wonder mingled with wrath, wonder at my marksmanship, and wrath
because I had dared to shoot before the King.

“The wager looks well for us,” muttered Bes, but I bade him be silent,
for more lions were stirring.

Now one leapt across the open space, passing in front of the King and
within thirty paces of us. He shot and missed it, sending his shaft two
spans above its back. Then I shot and drove the arrow through it just
where the head joins the neck, cutting the spine, so that it died at
once.

Again that murmur went up and the King struck the charioteer on the
head with his clenched fist, crying out that he had suffered the horses
to move and should be scourged for causing his hand to shake.

This charioteer, although he was a lord—since in the East men of high
rank waited on the King like slaves and even clipped his nails and
beard—craved pardon humbly, admitting his fault.

“It is a lie,” whispered Bes. “The horses never stirred. How could they
with those grooms holding their heads? Nevertheless, Master, the pearls
are as good as round your neck.”

“Silence,” I answered. “As we have heard, in the East all men speak the
truth; it is only Egyptians who lie. Also in the East men’s necks are
encircled with bowstrings as well as pearls, and ears are long.”

The hounds continued to bay, drawing nearer to us. A lioness bounded
out of the reeds, ran towards the King’s chariot and as though amazed,
sat down like a dog, so near that a man might have hit it with a stone.
The King shot short, striking it in the fore-paw only, whereon it shook
out the arrow and rushed back into the reeds, while the court behind
cried,

“May the King live for ever! The beast is dead.”

“We shall see if it is dead presently,” said Bes, and I nodded.

Another lion appeared to the right of the King. Again he shot and
missed it, whereon he began to curse and to swear in his own royal
oaths, and the charioteer trembled. Then came the end.

One of the hounds drew quite close and roused the lioness that had been
pricked in the foot. She turned and killed it with a blow of her paw,
then, being mad, charged straight at the King’s chariot. The horses
reared, lifting the grooms off their feet. The King shot wildly and
fell backwards out of the chariot, as even Kings of the world must do
when they have nothing left to stand on. The lioness saw that he was
down and leapt at him, straight over the chariot. As she leapt I shot
at her in the air and pierced her through the loins, paralysing her, so
that although she fell down near the King, she could not come at him to
kill him.

I sprang from my chariot, but before I could reach the lioness hunters
had run up with spears and stabbed her, which was easy as she could not
move.

The King rose from the ground, for he was unharmed, and said in a loud
voice,

“Had not that shaft of mine gone home, I think that the East would have
bowed to another lord to-night.”

Now, forgetting that I was speaking to the King of the earth,
forgetting the wager and all besides, I exclaimed,

“Nay, your shaft missed; mine went home,” whereon one of the courtiers
cried,

“This Egyptian is a liar, and calls the King one!”

“A liar?” I said astonished. “Look at the arrow and see from whose
quiver it came,” and I drew one from my own of the Egyptian make and
marked with my mark.

Then a tumult broke out, all the courtiers and eunuchs talking at once,
yet all bowing to the mud-stained person of the King, like ears of
wheat to a tree in a storm. Not wishing to urge my claims further, for
my part I returned to the chariot and the hunting being done, as I
supposed, unstrung my bow which I prized above all things, and set it
in its case.

While I was thus employed the eunuch Houman approached me with a sickly
smile, saying,

“The King commands your presence, Egyptian, that you may receive your
reward.”

I nodded, saying that I would come, and he returned.

“Bes,” I said when he was out of hearing, “my heart sinks. I do not
trust that King who I think means mischief.”

“So do I, Master. Oh! we have been great fools. When a god and a man
climb a tree together, the man should allow the god to come first to
the top, and thence tell the world that he is a god.”

“Yes,” I answered, “but who ever sees Wisdom until she is flying away?
Now perhaps, the god being the stronger, will cast down the man.”

Then both together we advanced towards the King, leaving the chariot in
charge of soldiers. He was seated on a gilded chair which served him as
a throne, and behind him were his officers, eunuchs and attendants,
though not all of them, since at a little distance some of them were
engaged in beating the lord who had served as his charioteer upon the
feet with rods. We prostrated ourselves before him and waited till he
spoke. At length he said,

“Shabaka the Egyptian, we made a wager with you, of which you will
remember the terms. It seems that you have won the wager, since you
slew two lions, whereas we, the King, slew but one, that which leapt
upon us in the chariot.”

Here Bes groaned at my side and I looked up.

“Fear nothing,” he went on, “it shall be paid.” Here he snatched off
the girdle of priceless, rose-hued pearls and threw it in my face.

“At the palace too,” he went on, “the dwarf shall be set in the scales
and his full weight in pure gold shall be given to you. Moreover, the
lives of the six hunters are yours, and with them the men themselves.”

“May the King live for ever!” I exclaimed, feeling that I must say
something.

“I hope so,” he answered cruelly, “but, Egyptian, you shall not, who
have broken the laws of the land.”

“In what way, O King?” I asked.

“By shooting at the lions before the King had time to draw his bow, and
by telling the King that he lied to his face, for both of which things
the punishment is death.”

Now my heart swelled till I thought it would burst with rage. Then of a
sudden, a certain spirit entered into me and I rose to my feet and
said,

“O King, you have declared that I must die and as this is so, I will
kneel to you no more who soon shall sup at the table of Osiris, and
there be far greater than any king, going before him with clean hands.
Is it not your law that he who is condemned to die has first the right
to set out his case for the honour of his name?”

“It is,” said the King, I think because he was curious to hear what I
had to say. “Speak on.”

“O King, although my blood is as high as your own, of that I say
nothing, for at the wish of your satrap I came to the East from Egypt
as a hunter, to show you how we of Egypt kill lions and other beasts.
For three months I have waited in the royal city seeking admission to
the presence of the King, and in vain. At length I was bidden to this
hunt when I was about to depart to my own land, and being taunted by
your servants, entered the reeds with my slave, and there slew a lion.
Then it pleased you to thrust a wager upon me which I did not wish to
take, as to which of us would shoot the most lions; a wager as I now
understand you did not mean that I should win, whatever might be my
skill, since you thought I knew that I must shoot at nothing till you
had first shot and killed the beasts or scared them away.

“So I matched myself against you, as hunter against hunter, for in the
field, as before the gods, all are equal, not as a slave against a king
who is determined to avenge defeat by death. We were posted and the
lions came. I shot at those which appeared opposite to me, or upon my
side, leaving those that appeared opposite to you, or on your side
unshot at, as is the custom of hunters. My skill, or my fortune, was
better than yours and I killed, whereas you missed or only wounded. In
the end a lioness sprang at you and I shot it lest it should kill you;
as could easily be proved by the arrow in its body. Now you say that I
must die because I have broken some laws of yours which men should be
ashamed to make, and to save your honour, pay me what I have won,
knowing that pearls and gold and slaves are of no value to a dying man
and can be taken back again. That is all the story.

“Yet I would add one word. You Easterns have two sayings which you
teach to your children; that they should learn to shoot with the bow,
and to tell the truth. O King, they are my last lessons to you. Learn
to shoot with the bow—which you cannot do, and to tell the truth which
you have not done. Now I have spoken and am ready to die and I thank
you for the patience with which you have heard my words, that, as the
King does _not_ live for ever, I hope one day to repeat to you more
fully beyond the grave.”

Now at this bold speech of mine all those nobles and attendants gasped,
for never had they heard such words addressed to his Majesty. The King
turned red as though with shame, but made no answer, only he asked of
those about him.

“What fate for this man?”

“Death, O King!” they cried with one voice.

“What death?” he asked again.

Then his Councillors consulted together and one of them answered,

“The slowest known to our law, _death by the boat_.”

Hearing this and not knowing what was meant, it came into my mind that
I was to be turned adrift in a boat and there left to starve.

“Behold the reward of good hunting!” I mocked in my rage. “O King,
because of this deed of shame I call upon you the curse of all the gods
of all the peoples. Henceforth may your sleep be ever haunted by evil
dreams of what shall follow the last sleep, and in the end may you also
die in blood.”

The King opened his mouth as though to answer, but from it came nothing
but a low cry of fear. Then guards rushed up and seized me.




CHAPTER VI.
THE DOOM OF THE BOAT


The guards led me to my chariot and thrust me into it, and with me Bes.
I asked them if they would murder him also, to which the eunuch,
Houman, answered No, since he had committed no crime, but that he must
go with me to be weighed. Then soldiers took the horses by the bridles
and led them, while others, having first snatched away my bow and all
our other weapons, surrounded the chariot lest we should escape. So Bes
and I were able to talk together in a Libyan tongue that none of them
understood, even if they heard our words.

“Your life is spared,” I said to him, “that the King may take you as a
slave.”

“Then he will take an ill slave, Master, since I swear by the
Grasshopper that within a moon I will find means to kill him, and
afterwards come to join you in a land where men hunt fair.”

I smiled and Bes went on,

“Now I wish I had time to teach you that trick of swallowing your own
tongue, since perhaps you will need it in this boat of which they
talk.”

“Did you not say to me an hour or two ago, Bes, that we are fools to
stretch out our hands to Death until he stretches out his to us? I will
not die until I must—now.”

“Why ‘now,’ Master, seeing that only this afternoon you bade me kill
you rather than let you be thrown to the wild beasts?” he asked peering
at me curiously.

“Do you remember the old hermit, the holy Tanofir, who dwells in a cell
over the sepulchre of the Apis bulls in the burial ground of the desert
near to Memphis, Bes?”

“The magician and prophet who is the brother of your grandfather,
Master, and the son of a king; he who brought you up before he became a
hermit? Yes, I know him well, though I have seldom been very near to
him because his eyes frighten me, as they frightened Cambyses the
Persian when Tanofir cursed him and foretold his doom after he had
stabbed the holy Apis, saying that by a wound from that same sword in
his own body he should die himself, which thing came to pass. As they
have frightened many another man also.”

“Well, Bes, when yonder king told me that I must die, fear filled me
who did not wish to die thus, and after the fear came a blackness in my
mind. Then of a sudden in that blackness I saw a picture of Tanofir, my
great uncle, seated in a sepulchre looking towards the East. Moreover I
heard him speak, and to me, saying, ‘Shabaka, my foster-son, fear
nothing. You are in great danger but it will pass. Speak to the great
King all that rises in your heart, for the gods of Vengeance make use
of your tongue and whatever you prophesy to him shall be fulfilled.’ So
I spoke the words you heard and I feared nothing.”

“Is it so, Master? Then I think that the holy Tanofir must have entered
my heart also. Know that I was minded to leap upon that king and break
his neck, so that all three of us might end together. But of a sudden
something seemed to tell me to leave him alone and let things go as
they are fated. But how can the holy Tanofir who grows blind with age,
see so far?”

“I do not know, Bes, save that he is not as are other men, for in him
is gathered all the ancient wisdom of Egypt. Moreover he lives with the
gods while still upon earth, and like the gods can send his _Ka_, as we
Egyptians call the spirit, or invisible self which companions all from
the cradle to the grave and afterwards, whither he will. So doubtless
to-day he sent it hither to me whom he loves more than anything on
earth. Also I remember that before I entered on this journey he told me
that I should return safe and sound. Therefore, Bes, I say I fear
nothing.”

“Nor do I, Master. Yet if you see me do strange things, or hear me
speak strange words, take no note of them, since I shall be but playing
a part as I think wisest.”

After this we talked of that day’s adventure with the lions, and of
others that we had shared together, laughing merrily all the while,
till the soldiers stared at us as though we were mad. Also the fat
eunuch, Houman, who was mounted on an ass, rode up and said,

“What, Egyptian who dared to twist the beard of the Great King, you
laugh, do you? Well, you will sing a different song in the boat to that
which you sing in the chariot. Think of my words on the eighth day from
this.”

“I will think of them, Eunuch,” I answered, looking at him fiercely in
the eyes, “but who knows what kind of a song you will be singing before
the eighth day from this?”

“What I do is done under the authority of the ancient and holy Seal of
Seals,” he answered in a quavering voice, touching the little cylinder
of white shell which I had noted upon the person of the King, but that
now hung from a gold chain about the eunuch’s neck.

Then he made the sign which Easterns use to avert evil and rode off
again, looking very frightened.

So we came to the royal city and went up to a wonderful palace. Here we
were taken from the chariot and led into a room where food and drink in
plenty were given to me as though I were an honoured guest, which
caused me to wonder. Bes also, seated on the ground at a distance, ate
and drank, for his own reasons filling himself to the throat as though
he were a wineskin, until the serving slaves mocked at him for a
glutton.

When we had finished eating, slaves appeared bearing a wooden framework
from which hung a great pair of scales. Also there appeared officers of
the King’s Treasury, carrying leather bags which they opened, breaking
the seals to show that the contents were pure gold coin. They set a
number of these bags on one of the scales, and then ordered Bes to seat
himself in the other. So much heavier did he prove than they expected
him to be, that they were obliged to send back to the Treasury to fetch
more bags of gold, for although Bes was so short in height, his weight
was that of a large man. One of the treasurers grumbled, saying he
should have been weighed before he had eaten and drunk. But the officer
to whom he spoke grinned and answered that it mattered little, since
the King was heir to criminals and that these bags would soon return to
the Treasury, only they would need washing first, a remark that made me
wonder.

At length, when the scales were even, the six hunters whose lives I had
won and who had been given to me as slaves, were brought in and ordered
to shoulder the bags of gold. I too was seized and my hands were bound
behind me. Then I was led out in charge of the eunuch Houman, who
informed me with a leer that it would be his duty to attend to my
comfort till the end. With him were four black men all dressed in the
same way. These, he said, were the executioners. Lastly came Bes
watched by three of the king’s guards armed with spears, lest he should
attempt to rescue me or to do anyone a mischief.

Now my heart began to sink and I asked Houman what was to happen to me.

“This, O Egyptian slayer of lions. You will be laid upon a bed in a
little boat upon the river and another boat will be placed over you,
for these boats are called the Twins, Egyptian, in such a fashion that
your head and your hands will project at one end and your feet at the
other. There you will be left, comfortable as a baby in its cradle, and
twice every day the best of food and drink will be brought to you.
Should your appetite fail, moreover, it will be my duty to revive it by
pricking your eyes with the point of a knife until it returns. Also
after each meal I shall wash your face, your hands and your feet with
milk and honey, lest the flies that buzz about them should suffer
hunger, and to preserve your skin from burning by the sun. Thus slowly
you will grow weaker and at length fall asleep. The last one who went
into the boat—he, unlucky man, had by accident wandered into the court
of the House of Women and seen some of the ladies there unveiled—only
lived for twelve days, but you, being so strong, may hope to last for
eighteen. Is there anything more that I can tell you? If so, ask it
quickly for we draw near to the river.”

Now when I heard this and understood all the horror of my fate, I
forgot the vision of my great uncle, the holy Tanofir, and his
comfortable prophecies, and my heart failed me altogether, so that I
stood stock still.

“What, Lion-hunter and Bearder of kings, do you think it is too early
to go to bed?” mocked this devilish eunuch. “On with you!” and he began
to beat me about the face with the handle of his fly-whisk.

Then my manhood came back to me.

“When did the King tell you to touch me, you fatted swine?” I roared,
and turning, since I could not reach him with my bound hands, kicked
him in the body with all my strength, so that he fell down, writhing
and screaming with agony. Indeed, had not the executioners leapt upon
me, I would have trampled the life out of him where he lay. But they
held me fast and presently, after he had been sick, Houman recovered
enough to come forward leaning on the shoulders of two guards. Only now
he mocked me no more.

We reached a quay just as the sun was setting. There in charge of a
one-eyed black slave, a little square-ended boat floated at the river’s
edge, while on the quay itself lay a similar but somewhat shorter boat,
bottom uppermost. Now the hunters whom I had won in the wager, with
many glances of compassion, for they were brave men and knew that it
was I who had saved their lives, placed the bags of gold in the bottom
of the floating boat, and on the top of these a mattress stuffed with
straw. Then the girdle of rose-hued pearls was made fast about my
middle, my hands were untied, I was seized by the executioners and laid
on my back on the mattress, and my wrists and ankles were fixed by
cords to iron rings that were screwed to the thwarts of the boat. After
this the other, shorter boat was laid over me in such a manner that it
did not touch me, leaving my head, my hands and my feet exposed as the
eunuch had said.

While this wicked work was going forward Bes sat on the quay, watching,
till presently, after I had been made fast and covered up, he burst
into shouts of laughter, clapped his hands and began to dance about as
though with joy, till the eunuch, who had now recovered somewhat from
my kick, grew curious and asked him why he behaved thus.

“O noble Eunuch,” he answered, “once I was free and that man made me a
slave, so that for many years I have been obliged to toil for him whom
I hate. Moreover, often he has beaten me and starved me, which was why
you saw me eat so much not long ago, and threatened to kill me, and now
at last I have my revenge upon him who is about to die miserably. That
is why I laugh and sing and dance and clap my hands, O most noble
Eunuch, I who shall become the follower and servant of the glorious
King of all the earth, and perhaps your friend, too, O Eunuch of
eunuchs, whose sacred person my brutal master dared to kick.”

“I understand,” said Houman smiling, though with a twisted face, “and
will make report of all you say to the King, and ask him to grant that
you shall sometimes prick this Egyptian in the eye. Now go spit in his
face and tell him what you think of him.”

So Bes waded into the water which was quite shallow here, and spat into
my face, or pretended to, while amid a torrent of vile language, he
interpolated certain words in the Libyan tongue, which meant,

“O my most beloved father, mother, and other relatives, have no fear.
Though things look very black, remember the vision of the holy Tanofir,
who doubtless allows these things to happen to you to try your faith by
direct order of the gods. Be sure that I will not leave you to perish,
or if there should be no escape, that I will find a way to put you out
of your misery and to avenge you. Yes, yes, I will yet see that
accursed swine, Houman, take your place in this boat. Now I go to the
Court to which it seems that this gold chain gives me a right of entry,
or so the eunuch says, but soon I will be back again.”

Then followed another stream of most horrible abuse and more spitting,
after which he waded back to land and embraced Houman, calling him his
best friend.

They went, leaving me alone in the boat save for the guard upon the
quay who, now that darkness had come, soon grew silent. It was lonely,
very lonely, lying there staring at the empty sky with only the
stinging gnats for company, and soon my limbs began to ache. I thought
of the poor wretches who had suffered in this same boat and wondered if
their lot would be my lot.

Bes was faithful and clever, but what could a single dwarf do among all
these black-hearted fiends? And if he could do nothing, oh! if he could
do nothing!

The seconds seemed minutes, the minutes seemed hours, and the hours
seemed years. What then would the days be, passed in torture and agony
while waiting for a filthy death? Where now were the gods I had
worshipped and—was there any god? Or was man but a self-deceiver who
created gods instead of the gods creating him, because he did not love
to think of an eternal blackness in which he would soon be swallowed up
and lost? Well, at least that would mean sleep, and sleep is better
than torment of mind or body.

It came to me, I think, who was so weary. At any rate I opened my eyes
to see that the low moon had vanished and that some of the stars which
I knew as a hunter who had often steered his way by them, had moved a
little. While I was wondering idly why they moved, I heard the tramp of
soldiers on the quay and the voice of an officer giving a command. Then
I felt the boat being drawn in by the cord with which it was attached
to the quay. Next the other boat that lay over me was lifted off, the
ropes that bound me were undone and I was set upon my feet, for already
I was so stiff that I could scarcely stand. A voice which I recognised
as that of the eunuch Houman, addressed me in respectful tones, which
made me think I must be dreaming.

“Noble Shabaka,” said the voice, “the Great King commands your presence
at his feast.”

“Is it so?” I answered in my dream. “Then my absence from their feast
will vex the gnats of the river,” a saying at which Houman and others
with him laughed obsequiously.

Next I heard the bags of gold being removed from the boat, after which
we walked away, guards supporting me by either elbow until I found my
strength again, and Houman following just behind, perhaps because he
feared my foot if he went in front.

“What has chanced, Eunuch,” I asked presently, “that I am disturbed
from the bed where I was sleeping so well?”

“I do not know, Lord,” he answered. “I only know that the King of kings
has suddenly commanded that you should be brought before him as a guest
clothed in a robe of honour, even if to do so, you must be awakened
from your rest, yes, to his own royal table, for he holds a feast this
night. Lord,” he went on in a whining voice, “if perchance fortune
should have changed her face to you, I pray you bear no malice to those
who, when she frowned, were forced, yes, under the private Seal of
Seals, against their will to carry out the commands of the King. Be
just, O Lord Shabaka.”

“Say no more. I will try to be just,” I answered. “But what is justice
in the East? I only know of it in Egypt.”

Now we reached one of the doors of the palace and I was taken to a
chamber where slaves who were waiting, washed and anointed me with
scents, after which they clad me in a beautiful robe of silk, setting
the girdle of rose-hued pearls about me.

When they had finished, preceded by Houman I was led to a great
pillared hall closed in with silk hangings, where many feasted. Through
them I went to a dais at the head of the hall where between half-drawn
curtains surrounded by cup-bearers and other officers, the King sat in
all his glory upon a cushioned golden throne. He had a glittering
wine-cup in his hand and at a glance I saw that he was drunk, as it is
the fashion for these Easterns to be at their great feasts, for he
looked happy and human which he did not do when he was sober. Or
perchance, as sometimes I thought afterwards, he only pretended to be
drunk. Also I saw something else, namely, Bes, wondrously attired with
the gold chain about his neck and wearing a red headdress. He was
seated on the carpet before the throne, and saying things that made the
King laugh and even caused the grave officers behind to smile.

I came to the dais and at a little sign from Bes who yet did not seem
to see me, such a sign as he often made when he caught sight of game
before I did, I prostrated myself. The King looked at me, then asked,

“Who is this?” adding, “Oh, I remember, the Egyptian whose arrows do
not miss, the wonderful hunter whom Idernes sent to me from Memphis,
which I hope to visit ere long. We quarrelled, did we not, Egyptian,
something about a lion?”

“Not so, King,” I answered. “The King was angry and with justice,
because I could not kill a lion before it frightened his horses.”

This I said because my hours in the boat had made me humble, also
because the words came to my lips.

“Yes, yes, something like that, or at least you lie well. Whatever it
may have been, it is done with now, a mere hunters’ difference,” and
taking from his side his long sceptre that was headed with the great
emerald, he stretched it out for me to touch in token of pardon.

Then I knew that I was safe for he to whom the King has extended his
sceptre is forgiven all crimes, yes, even if he had attempted the royal
life. The Court knew it also, for every man who saw bowed towards me,
yes, even the officers behind the King. One of the cup-bearers too
brought me a goblet of the King’s own wine, which I drank thankfully,
calling down health on the King.

“That was a wonderful shot of yours, Egyptian,” he said, “when you sent
an arrow through the lioness that dared to attack my Majesty. Yes, the
King owes his life to you and he is grateful as you shall learn. This
slave of yours,” and he pointed to Bes in his gaudy attire, “has
brought the whole matter to my mind whence it had fallen, and,
Shabaka,” here he hiccupped, “you may have noted how differently things
look to the naked eye and when seen through a wine goblet. He has told
me a wonderful story—what was the story, Dwarf?”

“May it please the great King,” answered Bes, rolling his big eyes,
“only a little tale of another king of my own country whom I used to
think great until I came to the East and learned what kings could be.
That king had a servant with whom he used to hunt, indeed he was my own
father. One day they were out together seeking a certain elephant whose
tusks were bigger than those of any other. Then the elephant charged
the king and my father, at the risk of his life, killed it and claimed
the tusks, as is the custom among the Ethiopians. But the king who
greatly desired those tusks, caused my father to be poisoned that he
might take them as his heir. Only before he died, my father, who could
talk the elephant language, told all the other elephants of this
wickedness, at which they were very angry, because they knew well that
from the beginning of time their tusks have belonged to him who killed
them, and the elephants are a people who do not like ancient laws to be
altered. So the elephants made a league together and when the king next
went out hunting, taking heed of nothing else they rushed at the king
and tore him into pieces no bigger than a finger, and then killed the
prince his son, who was behind him. That is the tale of the elephants
who love Law, O King.”

“Yes, yes,” said his Majesty, waking up from a little doze, “but what
became of the great tusks? I should like to have them.”

“I inherited them as my father’s son, O King, and gave them to my
master, who doubtless will send them to you when he gets back to
Egypt.”

“A strange tale,” said the King. “A very strange tale which seems to
remind me of something that happened not long ago. What was it? Well,
it does not matter. Egyptian, do you seek any reward for that shot of
yours at the lioness? If so, it shall be given to you. Have you a
grudge against anyone, for instance?”

“O King,” I answered, “I do seek justice against a certain man. This
evening I was led to the bank of the river in charge of the eunuch
Houman, who desired to take me for a row in a boat. On the road, for no
offence he struck me on the head with the handle of his fly-whip. See,
here are the marks of it, O King. Unless the King commanded him to
strike me which I do not remember, I seek justice against this eunuch.”

Now the King grew very angry and cried,

“What! Did the dog dare to strike a freeborn noble Egyptian?”

Here Houman threw himself upon his face in terror and began to babble
out I know not what about the punishment of the boat, which was unlucky
for him, for it put the matter into the King’s mind.

“The boat!” he cried. “Ah! yes, the boat; being so fat you will fit it
well, Eunuch. To the boat with him, and before he enters it a hundred
blows upon the feet with the rods,” and he pointed at him with his
sceptre.

Then guards sprang upon Houman and dragged him away. As he went he
clutched at Bes, but hissing something into his ear, the dwarf bit him
through the hand till he let go. So Houman departed and the King’s
guests laughed at the sight, for he had worked mischief to many.

When he had gone the King stared at me and asked,

“But why did I disturb you from your sleep, Egyptian? Oh! I remember.
This dwarf says that he has seen the fairest woman in the whole world,
and the most learned, some lady of Egypt, but that he does not know her
name, that you alone know her name. I disturbed you that you might tell
it to me but if you have forgotten it, you can go back to your bed and
rest there till it returns to you. There are plenty of boats in the
river, Egyptian.”

“The fairest and most learned woman in the world?” I said astonished.
“Who can that be, unless he means the lady Amada?” and I paused,
wishing I had bitten out my tongue before I spoke, for I smelt a trap.

“Yes, Master,” said Bes in a clear voice. “That was the name, the lady
Amada.”

“Who is this lady Amada?” asked the King, seeming to grow suddenly
sober. “And what is she like?”

“I can tell you that, O King,” said Bes. “She is like a willow shaken
in the wind for slenderness and grace. She has eyes like those of a
buck at gaze; she has lips like rosebuds; she has hair black as the
night and soft as silk, the odour of which floats round her like that
of flowers. She has a voice that whispers like the evening wind, and
yet is rich as honey. Oh! she is beautiful as a goddess and when men
see her their hearts melt like wax in the sun and for a long while they
can look upon no other woman, not till the next day indeed if they meet
her in the evening,” and Bes smacked his thick lips and gazed upwards.

“By the holy Fire,” laughed the King, “I feel my heart melting already.
Say, Shabaka, what do you know of this Amada? Is she married or a
maiden?”

Now I answered because I must, for after all that boat was not far
away, nor did I dare to lie.

“She is married, O King of kings, to the goddess Isis whom she loves
alone.”

“A woman married to a woman, or rather to the Queen of women,” he
answered laughing, “well, that matters little.”

“Nay, O King, it matters much since she is under the protection of Isis
and inviolate.”

“That remains to be seen, Shabaka. I think that I would dare the wrath
of every false goddess in heaven to win such a prize. Learned also, you
say, Shabaka.”

“Aye, O King, full of learning to the finger tips, a prophetess also,
one in whom the divine fire burns like a lamp in a vase of alabaster,
one to whom visions come and who can read the future and the past.”

“Still better,” said the King. “One, then, who would be a fitting
consort for the King of kings, who wearies of fat, round-eyed,
sweetmeat-sucking fools whereof there are hundreds yonder,” and he
pointed towards the House of Women. “Who is this maid’s father?”

“He is dead but she is the niece of the Prince Peroa, and by birth the
Royal Lady of Egypt, O King.”

“Good, then she is well born also. Hearken, O Shabaka, to-morrow you
start back to Egypt, bearing letters from me to my vassal Peroa, and to
my Satrap Idernes, bidding Peroa to hand over this lady Amada to
Idernes and bidding Idernes to send her to the East with all honour and
without delay, that she may enter my household as one of my wives.”

Now I was filled with rage and horror, and about to refuse this mission
when Bes broke in swiftly,

“Will the King of kings be pleased to give command as to my master’s
safe and honourable escort to Egypt?”

“It is commanded with all things necessary for Shabaka the Egyptian and
the dwarf his servant, with the gold and gems and slaves he won from me
in a wager, and everything else that is his. Let it be recorded.”

Scribes sprang forward and wrote the King’s words down, while like one
in a dream I thought to myself that they could not now be altered. The
King watched them sleepily for a while, then seemed to wake up and grow
clear-minded again. At least he said to me,

“Fortune has shown you smiles and frowns to-day, Egyptian, and the
smiles last. Yet remember that she has teeth behind her lips wherewith
to tear out the throat of the faithless. Man, if you play me false or
fail in your mission, be sure that you shall die and in such a fashion
that will make you think of yonder boat as a pleasant bed, and with you
this woman Amada and her uncle Peroa, and all your kin and hers; yes,”
he added with a burst of shrewdness, “and even that abortion of a dwarf
to whom I have listened because he amused me, but who perhaps is more
cunning than he seems.”

“O King of kings,” I said, “I will not be false.” But I did not add to
whom I would be true.

“Good. Ere long I shall visit Egypt, as I have told you, and there I
shall pass judgment on you and others. Till then, farewell. Fear
nothing, for you have my safe-conduct. Begone, both of you, for you
weary me. But first drink and keep the cup, and in exchange, give me
that bow of yours which shoots so far and straight.”

“It is the King’s,” I answered as I pledged him in the golden, jewelled
cup which a butler had handed to me.

Then the curtain fell in front of the throne and chamberlains came
forward to lead me and Bes back to our lodging, one of whom took the
cup and bore it in front of us. Down the hall we went between the
feasting nobles who all bowed to one to whom the Great King had shown
favour, and so out of the palace through the quiet night back to the
house where I had dwelt while waiting audience of the King. Here the
chamberlains bade me farewell, giving the cup to Bes to carry, and
saying that on the morrow early my gold should be brought to me
together with all that was needed for my journey, also one who would
receive the bow I had promised to the King, which had already been
returned to my lodgings with everything that was ours. Then they bowed
and went.

We entered the house, climbing a stair to an upper chamber. Here Bes
barred the door and the shutters, making sure that none could see or
hear us.

Then he turned, threw his arms about me, kissed my hand and burst into
tears.




CHAPTER VII.
BES STEALS THE SIGNET


“Oh! my Master,” gulped Bes, “I weep because I am tired, so take no
notice. The day was long and during it twice at least there has been
but the twinkling of an eyelid, but the thickness of a finger nail, but
the weight of a hair between you and death.”

“Yes,” I said, “and you were the eyelid, the finger nail and the hair.”

“No, Master, not I, but something beyond me. The tool carves the statue
and the hand holds the tool but the spirit guides the hand. Not once
only since the sun rose has my mind been empty as a drum. Then
something struck on it, perhaps the holy Tanofir, perhaps another, and
it knew what note to sound. So it was when I cursed you in the boat. So
it was when I walked back with the eunuch, meaning to kill him on the
road, and then remembered that the death of one vile eunuch would not
help you at all, whereas alive he could bring me to the presence of the
King, if I paid him, as I did out of the gold in your purse which I
carried. Moreover he earned his hire, for when the King grew dull, wine
not yet having taken a hold on him, it was he who brought me to his
mind as one who might amuse him, being so ugly and different from
others, if only for a few minutes, after the women dancers had failed
to do so.”

“And what happened then, Bes?”

“Then I was fetched and did my juggling tricks with that snake I caught
and tamed, which is in my pouch now. You should not hate it any more,
Master, for it played your game well. After this the King began to talk
to me and I saw that his mind was ill at ease about you whom he knew
that he had wronged. So I told him that story of an elephant that my
father killed to save a king—it grew up in my mind like a toadstool in
the night, Master, did this story of an ungrateful king and what befell
him. Then the King became still more unquiet in his heart about you and
asked the eunuch, Houman, where you were, to which he answered that by
his order you were sleeping in a boat and might not be disturbed. So
that arrow of mine missed its mark because the King did not like to eat
his own words and cause you to be brought from out the boat, whither he
had sent you. Now when everything seemed lost, some god, or perhaps the
holy Tanofir who is ever present with me to see that I have not
forgotten him, put it into the King’s mouth to begin to talk about
women and to ask me if I had ever seen any fairer than those dancers
whom I met going out as I came in. I answered that I had not noticed
them much because they were so ugly, as indeed all women had seemed to
me since once upon the banks of Nile I had looked upon one who was as
Hathor herself for beauty. The King asked me who this might be and I
answered that I did not know since I had never dared to ask the name of
one whom even my master held to be as a goddess, although as boy and
girl they had been brought up together.

“Then the King saw his opportunity to ease his conscience and inquired
of an old councillor if there were not a law which gave the king power
to alter his decree if thereby he could satisfy his soul and acquire
knowledge. The councillor answered that there was such a law and began
to give examples of its working, till the King cut him short and said
that by virtue of it he commanded that you should be brought out of
your bed in the boat and led before him to answer a question.

“So you were sent for, Master, but I did not go with the messengers,
fearing lest if I did the King would forget all about the matter before
you came. Therefore I stayed and amused him with tales of hunting, till
I could not think of any more, for you were long in coming. Indeed I
began to fear lest he should declare the feast at an end. But at the
last, just as he was yawning and spoke to one of his councillors,
bidding him send to the House of Women that they might make ready to
receive him there, you came, and the rest you know.”

Now I looked at Bes and said,

“May the blessing of all the gods of all the lands be on your head,
since had it not been for you I should now lie in torment in that boat.
Hearken, friend: If ever we reach Egypt again, you will set foot on it,
not as a slave but as a free man. You will be rich also, Bes, that is,
if we can take the gold I won with us, since half of it is yours.”

Bes squatted down upon the floor and looked up at me with a strange
smile on his ugly face.

“You have given me three things, Master,” he said. “Gold, which I do
not want at present; freedom, which I do not want at present and
mayhap, never shall while you live and love me; and the title of
friend. This I do want, though why I should care to hear it from your
lips I am not sure, seeing that for a long while I have known that it
was spoken in your heart. Since you have said it, however, I will tell
you something which hitherto I have hid even from you. I have a right
to that name, for if your blood is high, O Shabaka, so is mine. Know
that this poor dwarf whom you took captive and saved long years ago was
more than the petty chief which he declared himself to be. He was and
is by right the King of the Ethiopians and that throne with all its
wealth and power he could claim to-morrow if he would.”

“The King of the Ethiopians!” I said. “Oh! friend Bes, I pray you to
remember that we no longer stand in yonder court lying for our lives.”

“I speak no lie, O Shabaka, I before you am King of the Ethiopians.
Moreover, I laid that kingship down of my own will and should I so
desire, can take it up again when I will, since the Ethiopians are
faithful to their kings.”

“Why?” I asked, astonished.

“Master, for so I will still call you who am not yet upon the land of
Egypt where you have promised me freedom, do you remember anything
strange about the people of that tribe from among whom you and the
Egyptian soldiers captured me by surprise, because they wished to drive
you and your following from their country?”

Now I thought and answered,

“Yes, one thing. I saw no women in their camp, nor any sign of
children. This I know because I gave orders that such were to be spared
and it was reported to me that there were none, so I supposed that they
had fled away.”

“There were none to fly, Master. That tribe was a brotherhood which had
abjured women. Look on me now. I am misshapen, hideous, am I not? Born
thus, it is said, because before my birth my mother was frightened by a
dwarf. Yet the law of the Ethiopians is that their kings must marry
within a year of their crowning. Therefore I chose a woman to be the
queen whom I had long desired in secret. She scorned me, vowing that
not for all the thrones of all the world would she be mated to a
monster, and that if it were done by force she would kill herself, a
saying that went abroad throughout the land. I said that she had spoken
well and sent her in safety from the country, after which I too laid
down my crown and departed with some who loved me, to form a
brotherhood of women-haters further down the Nile, beyond the borders
of Ethiopia. There the Egyptian force of which you were in command,
attacked us unprepared, and you made me your slave. That is all.”

“But why did you do this, Bes, seeing that maidens are many and all
would not have thought thus?”

“Because I wished for that one only, Master; also I feared lest I
should become the father of a breed of twisted dwarfs. So I who was a
king am now a slave, and yet, who knows which way the Grasshopper will
jump? One day from a slave I may again grow into a king. And now let us
seek that wherein kings are as slaves and slaves as kings—sleep.”

So we lay down and slept, I thanking the gods that my bed was not
yonder in the boat upon the great river.

When I woke refreshed, though after all I had gone through on the
yesterday my brain still swam a little, the light was pouring through
the carved work of the shuttered windows. By it I saw Bes seated on the
floor engaged in doing something to his bow, which, as I have said, had
been restored to us with our other weapons, and asked him sleepily what
it was.

“Master,” he said, “yonder King demanded your bow and therefore a bow
must be sent to him. But there is no need for it to be that with which
you shot the lions, which, too, you value above anything you have,
seeing that it came down to you from your forefather who was a Pharaoh
of Egypt, and has been your companion from boyhood ever since you were
strong enough to draw it. As you may remember I copied that bow out of
a somewhat lighter wood, which I could bend with ease, and it is the
copy that we will give to the King. Only first I must set your string
upon it, for that may have been noted; also make one or two marks that
are on your bow which I am finishing now, having begun the task with
the dawn.”

“You are clever,” I said laughing, “and I am glad. The holy Tanofir,
looking on my bow, once had a vision. It was that an arrow loosed from
it would drink the blood of a great king and save Egypt. But what king
and when, he did not see.”

The dwarf nodded and answered,

“I have heard that tale and so have others. Therefore I play this trick
since it is better that yonder palace dweller should get the arrow than
the bow. There, it is finished to the last scratch, and none, save you
and I, would know them apart. Till we are clear of this cursed land
your bow is mine, Master, and you must find you another of the Eastern
make.”

“Master,” I repeated after him. “Say, Bes, did I dream or did you in
truth tell me last night that you are by birth and right the king of a
great country?”

“I told you that, Master and it is true, no dream, since joy and
suffering mixed unseal the lips and from them comes that at times which
the heart would hide. Now I ask a favour of you, that you will speak no
more of this matter either to me or to any other, man or woman, unless
I should speak of it first. Let it be as though it were indeed a
dream.”

“It is granted,” I said as I rose and clothed myself, not in my own
garments which had been taken from me in the palace, but in the
splendid silken robes that had been set upon me after I was loosed from
the boat. When this was done and I had washed and combed my long,
curling hair, we descended to a lower chamber and called for the woman
of the house to bring us food, of which I ate heartily. As we finished
our meal we heard shouts in the street outside of, “Make way for the
servants of the King!” and looking through the window-place, saw a
great cavalcade approaching, headed by two princes on horseback.

“Now I pray that yonder Tyrant has not changed his mind and that these
do not come to take me back to the boat,” I said in a low voice.

“Have no fear, Master,” answered Bes, “seeing that you have touched his
sceptre and drunk from his cup which he gave to you. After these things
no harm can happen to you in any land he rules. Therefore be at ease
and deal with these fellows proudly.”

A minute later two princes entered followed by slaves who bore many
things, among them those hide bags filled with gold that had been set
beneath me in the boat. The elder of them bowed, greeting me with the
title of “Lord,” and I bowed back to him. Then he handed me certain
rolls tied up with silk and sealed, which he said I was to deliver as
the King had commanded to the King’s Satrap in Egypt, and to the Prince
Peroa. Also he gave me other letters addressed to the King’s servants
on the road and written on tablets of clay in a writing I could not
read, with all of which I touched my forehead in the Eastern fashion.

After this he told me that by noon all would be ready for my journey
which I should make with the rank of the King’s Envoy, duly provisioned
and escorted by his servants, with liberty to use the royal horses from
post to post. Then he ordered the slaves to bring in the gifts which
the King sent to me, and these were many, including even suits of
flexible armour that would turn any sword-thrust or arrow.

I thanked him, saying that I would be ready to start by noon, and asked
whether the King wished to see me before I rode. He replied that he had
so wished, but that as he was suffering in his head from the effects of
the sun, he could not. He bade me, however, remember all that he had
said to me and to be sure that the beauteous lady Amada, of whom I had
spoken, was sent to him without delay. In that case my reward should be
great; but if I failed to fulfil his commands, then his wrath would be
greater and I should perish miserably as he had promised.

I bowed and made no answer, after which he and his companions opened
the bags of gold to show me that it was there, offering to weigh it
again against my servant, the dwarf, so that I could see that nothing
had been taken away.

I replied that the King’s word was truer than any scale, whereon the
bags were tied up again and sealed. Then I produced the bow, or rather
its counterfeit, and having shown it to the princes, wrapped it and six
of my own arrows in a linen cloth, to be taken to the King, with a
message that though hard to draw it was the deadliest weapon in the
world. The elder of them took it, bowed and bade me farewell, saying
that perhaps we should meet again ere long in Egypt, if my gods gave me
a safe journey. So we parted and I was glad to see the last of them.

Scarcely had they gone when the six hunters whom I had won in the wager
and thereby saved from death, entered the chamber and fell upon their
knees before me, asking for orders as to making ready my gear for the
journey. I inquired of them if they were coming also, to which their
spokesman replied that they were my slaves to do what I commanded.

“Do you desire to come?” I inquired.

“O Lord Shabaka,” answered their spokesman, “we do, though some of us
must leave wives and children behind us.”

“Why?” I asked.

“For two reasons, Lord. Here we are men disgraced, though through no
fault of our own and if you were to leave us in this land, soon the
anger of the King would find us out and we should lose not only our
wives and children, but with them our lives. Whereas in another land we
may get other wives and more children, but never shall we get another
life. Therefore we would leave those dear ones to our friends, knowing
that soon the women will forget and find other husbands, and that the
children will grow up to whatever fate is appointed them, thinking of
us, their fathers, as dead. Secondly we are hunters by trade, and we
have seen that you are a great hunter, one whom we shall always be
proud to serve in the chase or in war, one, too, who went out of his
path to save our lives, because he saw that we had been unjustly doomed
to a cruel death. Therefore we desire nothing better than to be your
slaves, hoping that perchance we may earn our liberty from you in days
to come by our good service.”

“Is that the wish of all of you?” I asked.

Speaking one by one, they said that it was, though tears rose in the
eyes of some of them who were married at the thought of parting from
their women and their little ones, who, it seemed might not be brought
with them because they were the people of the King and had not been
named in the bet. Moreover, horses could not be found for so many, nor
could they travel fast.

“Come then,” I said, “and know that while you are faithful to me, I
will be good to you, men of my own trade, and perhaps in the end set
you free in a land where brave fellows are not given to be torn to
pieces by wild beasts at the word of any king. But if you fail me or
betray me, then either I will kill you, or sell you to those who deal
in slaves, to work at the oar, or in the mines till you die.”

“Henceforth we have no lord but you, O Shabaka,” they said, and one
after another took my hand and pressed it to their foreheads, vowing to
be true to me in all things while we lived.

So I bade them begone to bid farewell to those they loved and return
again within half an hour of noon, never expecting, to tell the truth,
that they would come. Indeed I did this to give them the opportunity of
escaping if they saw fit, and hiding themselves where they would. But
as I have often noted, the trade of hunting breeds honesty in the blood
and at the hour appointed all of these men appeared, one of them with a
woman who carried a child in her arms, clinging to him and weeping
bitterly. When her veil slipped aside I saw that she was young and very
fair to look on.

So at noon we left the city of the Great King in the charge of two of
his officers who brought me his thanks for the bow I had sent him,
which he said he should treasure above everything he possessed, a
saying at which Bes rolled his yellow eyes and grinned. We were mounted
on splendid stallions from the royal stables and clad in the shirts of
mail that had been presented to us, though when we were clear of the
city we took these off because of the heat, also because that which Bes
wore chafed him, being too long for his squat shape. Our goods together
with the bags of gold were laden on sumpter horses which were led by my
six hunter slaves. Four picked soldiers brought up the rear, mighty men
from the King’s own bodyguard, and two of the royal postmen who served
us as guides. Also there were cooks and grooms with spare horses.

Thus we started in state and a great crowd watched us go. Our road ran
by the river which we must cross in barges lower down, so that in a few
minutes we came to that quay whither I had been led on the previous
night to die. Yes, there were the watching guards, and there floated
the hateful double boat, at the prow of which appeared the tortured
face of the eunuch Houman, who rolled his head from side to side to rid
himself of the torment of the flies. He caught sight of us and began to
scream for pity and forgiveness, whereat Bes smiled. The officers
halted our cavalcade and one of them approaching me said,

“It is the King’s command, O Lord Shabaka, that you should look upon
this villain who traduced you to the King and afterwards dared to
strike you. If you will, enter the water and blind him, that your face
may be the last thing he sees before he passes into darkness.”

I shook my head, but Bes into whose mind some thought had come,
whispered to me,

“I wish to speak with yonder eunuch, so give me leave and fear nothing.
I will do him no hurt, only good, if I find the chance.”

Then I said to the officer,

“It is not for great lords to avenge themselves upon the fallen. Yet my
slave here was also wronged and would say a word to yonder Houman.”

“So be it,” said the officer, “only let him be careful not to hurt him
too sorely, lest he should die before the time and escape his
punishment.”

Then Bes tucked up his robes and waded into the river, flourishing a
great knife, while seeing him come, Houman began to scream with fear.
He reached the boat and bent over the eunuch, talking to him in a low
voice. What he did there I could not see because his cloak was spread
out on either side of the man’s head. Presently, however, I caught
sight of the flash of a knife and heard yells of agony followed by
groans, whereat I called to him to return and let the fellow be. For
when I remembered that his fate was near to being my own, those sounds
made me sick at heart and I grew angry with Bes, though the cruel
Easterns only laughed.

At length he came back grinning and washing the blade of his knife in
the water. I spoke fiercely to him in my own language, and still he
grinned on, making no answer. When we were mounted again and riding
away from that horrible boat with its groaning prisoner, watching Bes
whose behaviour and silence I could not understand, I saw him sweep his
hand across his great mouth and thrust it swiftly into his bosom. After
this he spoke readily enough, though in a low voice lest someone who
understood Egyptian should overhear him.

“You are a fool, Master,” he said, “to think that I should wish to
waste time in torturing that fat knave.”

“Then why did you torture him?” I asked.

“Because my god, the Grasshopper, when he fashioned me a dwarf, gave me
a big mouth and good teeth,” he answered, whereon I stared at him,
thinking that he had gone mad.

“Listen, Master. I did not hurt Houman. All I did was to cut his cords
nearly through from the under side, so that when night comes he can
break them and escape, if he has the wit. Now, Master, you may not have
noticed, but I did, that before the King doomed you to death by the
boat yesterday, he took a certain round, white seal, a cylinder with
gods and signs cut on it, which hung by a gold chain from his girdle,
and gave it to Houman to be his warrant for all he did. This seal
Houman showed to the Treasurer whereon they produced the gold that was
weighed in the scales against me, and to others when he ordered the
boat to be prepared for you to lie in. Moreover he forgot to return it,
for when he himself was dragged off to the boat by direct command of
the King, I caught sight of the chain beneath his robe. Can you guess
the rest?”

“Not quite,” I answered, for I wished to hear the tale in his own
words.

“Well, Master, when I was walking with Houman after he had put you in
the boat, I asked him about this seal. He showed it to me and said that
he who bore it was for the time the king of all the Empire of the East.
It seems that there is but one such seal which has descended from
ancient days from king to king, and that of it every officer, great or
small, has an impress in all lands. If the seal is produced to him, he
compares it with the impress and should the two agree, he obeys the
order that is brought as though the King had given it in person. When
we reached the Court doubtless Houman would have returned the seal, but
seeing that the King was, or feigned to be drunk, waited for fear lest
it should be lost, and with it his life. Then he was seized as you saw,
and in his terror forgot all about the seal, as did the King and his
officers.”

“But, surely, Bes, those who took Houman to the boat would have removed
it.”

“Master, even the most clear-sighted do not see well at night. At any
rate my hope was that they had not done so, and that is why I waded out
to prick the eyes of Houman. Moreover, as I had hoped, so it was; there
beneath his robe I saw the chain. Then I spoke to him, saying,

“‘I am come to put out your eyes, as you deserve, seeing how you have
treated my master. Still I will spare you at a price. Give me the
King’s ancient white seal that opens all doors, and I will only make a
pretence of blinding you. Moreover I will cut your cords nearly
through, so that when the night comes you can break them, roll into the
river and escape.’

“‘Take it if you can,’ he said, ‘and use it to injure or destroy that
accursed one.’”

“So you took it, Bes.”

“Yes, Master, but not easily. Remember, it was on a chain about the
man’s neck, and I could not draw it over his head, for, like his hands,
his throat was tied by a cord, as you remember yours was.”

“I remember very well,” I said, “for my throat is still sore from the
rope that ran to the same staples to which my hands were fastened.”

“Yes, Master, and therefore if I drew the chain off his neck, it would
still have been on the ropes. I thought of trying to cut it with the
knife, but this was not easy because it is thick, and if I had dragged
it up on the blade of the knife it would have been seen, for many eyes
were watching me, Master. Then I took another counsel. While I
pretended to be putting out the eyes of Houman, I bent down and getting
the chain between my teeth I bit it through. One tooth broke—see, but
the next finished the business. I ate through the soft gold, Master,
and then sucked up the chain and the round white seal into my mouth,
and that is why I could not answer you just now, because my cheeks were
full of chain. So we have the King’s seal that all the subject
countries know and obey. It may be useful, yonder in Egypt, and at
least the gold is of value.”

“Clever!” I exclaimed, “very clever. But you have forgotten something,
Bes. When that knave escapes, he will tell the whole story and the King
will send after us and kill us who have stolen his royal seal.”

“I don’t think so, Master. First, it is not likely that Houman will
escape. He is very fat and soft and already suffers much. After a day
in the sun also he will be weak. Moreover I do not think that he can
swim, for eunuchs hate the water. So if he gets out of the boat it is
probable that he will drown in the river, since he dare not wade to the
quay where the guards will be waiting. But if he does escape by
swimming across the river, he will hide for his life’s sake and never
be seen again, and if by chance he is caught, he will say that the seal
fell into the water when he was taken to the boat, or that one of the
guards had stolen it. What he will not say is that he had bargained it
away with someone who in return, cut his cords, since for that crime he
must die by worse tortures than those of the boat. Lastly we shall ride
so fast that with six hours’ start none will catch us. Or if they do I
can throw away the chain and swallow the seal.”

As Bes said, so it happened. The fate of Houman I never learned, and of
the theft of the seal I heard no more until a proclamation was issued
to all the kingdoms that a new one was in use. But this was not until
long afterwards when it had served my turn and that of Egypt.




CHAPTER VIII.
THE LADY AMADA


Now day by day, hour by hour and minute by minute every detail of that
journey appeared before me, but to set it all down is needless. As I,
Allan Quatermain, write the record of my vision, still I seem to hear
the thunder of our horses’ hoofs while we rushed forward at full gallop
over the plains, over the mountain passes and by the banks of rivers.
The speed at which we travelled was wonderful, for at intervals of
about forty miles were post-houses and at these, whatever might be the
hour of day or night, we found fresh horses from the King’s stud
awaiting us. Moreover, the postmasters knew that we were coming, which
astonished me until we discovered that they had been warned of our
arrival by two King’s messengers who travelled ahead of us.

These men, it would seem, although our officers and guides professed
ignorance of the matter, must have left the King’s palace at dawn on
the day of our departure, whereas we did not mount in the city till a
little after noon. Therefore they had six hours good start of us, and
what is more, travelled lighter than we did, having no sumpter beasts
with them, and no cooks or servants. Moreover, always they had the pick
of the horses and chose the three swiftest beasts, leading the third in
case one of their own should founder or meet with accident. Thus it
came about that we never caught them up although we covered quite a
hundred miles a day. Only once did I see them, far off upon the skyline
of a mountain range which we had to climb, but by the time we had
reached its crest they were gone.

At length we came to the desert without accident and crossed it, though
more slowly. But even here the King had his posts which were in charge
of Arabs who lived in tents by wells of water, or sometimes where there
was none save what was brought to them. So still we galloped on,
parched by the burning sand beneath and the burning sand above, and
reached the borders of Egypt.

Here, upon the very boundary line, the two officers halted the
cavalcade saying that their orders were to return thence and make
report to the King. There then we parted, Bes and I with the six
hunters who still chose to cling to me, going forward and the officers
of the King with the guides and servants going back. The good horses
that we rode from the last post they gave to us by the King’s command,
together with the sumpter beasts, since horses broken to the saddle
were hard to come by in Egypt where they were trained to draw chariots.
These we took, sending back my thanks to the King, and started on once
more, Bes leading that beast which bore the gold and the hunters
serving as a guard.

Indeed I was glad to see the last of those Easterns although they had
brought us safely and treated us well, for all the while I was never
sure but that they had some orders to lead us into a trap, or perhaps
to make away with us in our sleep and take back the gold and the
priceless, rose-hued pearls, any two of which were worth it all. But
such was not their command nor did they dare to steal them on their own
account, since then, even if they escaped the vengeance of the King,
their wives and all their families would have paid the price.

Now we entered Egypt near the Salt Lakes that are not far from the head
of the Gulf, crossing the canal that the old Pharaohs had dug, which
proved easy for it was silted up. Before we reached it we found some
peasant folk labouring in their gardens and I heard one of them call to
another,

“Here come more of the Easterns. What is toward, think you, neighbour?”

“I do not know,” answered the other, “but when I passed down the canal
this morning, I saw a body of the Great King’s guards gathering from
the fort. Doubtless it is to meet these men of whose coming the other
two who went by fifty hours ago, have warned the officers.”

“Now what does that mean?” I asked of Bes.

“Neither more nor less than we have heard, Master. The two King’s
messengers who have gone ahead of us all the way from the city, have
told the officer of the frontier fort that we are coming, so he has
advanced to the ford to meet us, for what purpose I do not know.”

“Nor do I,” I said, “but I wish we could take another road, if there
were one.”

“There is none, Master, for above and below the canal is full of water
and the banks are too steep for horses to climb. Also we must show no
doubt or fear.”

He thought a while, then added,

“Take the royal seal, Master. It may be useful.”

He gave it to me, and I examined it more closely than I had done
before. It was a cylinder of plain white shell hung on a gold chain,
that which Bes had bitten through, but now mended again by taking out
the broken link. On this cylinder were cut figures; as I think of a
priest presenting a noble to a god, over whom was the crescent of the
moon, while behind the god stood a man or demon with a tall spear. Also
between the figures were mystic signs, meaning I know not what. The
workmanship of the carving was grown shallow with time and use for the
cylinder seemed to be very ancient, a sacred thing that had descended
from generation to generation and was threaded through with a bar of
silver on which it turned.

I put the seal which was like no other that I had seen, being the work
of an early and simpler age, round my neck beneath my mail and we went
on.

Descending the steep bank of the canal we came to the ford where the
sand that had silted in was covered by not more than a foot of water.
As we entered it, on the top of the further bank appeared a body of
about thirty armed and mounted men, one of whom carried the Great
King’s banner, on which I noted was blazoned the very figures that were
cut upon the cylinder. Now it was too late to retreat, so we rode
through the water and met the soldiers. Their officer advanced, crying,

“In the name of the Great King, greeting, my lord Shabaka!

“In the name of the Great King, greeting!” I answered. “What would you
with Shabaka, Officer of the King?”

“Only to do him honour. The word of the King has reached us and we come
to escort you to the Court of Idernes, the Satrap of the King and
Governor of Egypt who sits at Sais.”

“That is not my road, Officer. I travel to Memphis to deliver the
commands of the King to my cousin, Peroa, the ruler 

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