The Great Experiment
If any evidence had been wanted of how absolutely one and all of us had
come to believe in the spiritual existence of the Egyptian Queen, it
would have been found in the change which in a few minutes had been
effected in us by the statement of voluntary negation made, we all
believed, through Margaret. Despite the coming of the fearful ordeal,
the sense of which it was impossible to forget, we looked and acted as
though a great relief had come to us. We had indeed lived in such a
state of terrorism during the days when Mr. Trelawny was lying in a
trance that the feeling had bitten deeply into us. No one knows till
he has experienced it, what it is to be in constant dread of some
unknown danger which may come at any time and in any form.
The change was manifested in different ways, according to each nature.
Margaret was sad. Doctor Winchester was in high spirits, and keenly
observant; the process of thought which had served as an antidote to
fear, being now relieved from this duty, added to his intellectual
enthusiasm. Mr. Corbeck seemed to be in a retrospective rather than a
speculative mood. I was myself rather inclined to be gay; the relief
from certain anxiety regarding Margaret was sufficient for me for the
time.
As to Mr. Trelawny he seemed less changed than any. Perhaps this was
only natural, as he had had in his mind the intention for so many years
of doing that in which we were tonight engaged, that any event
connected with it could only seem to him as an episode, a step to the
end. His was that commanding nature which looks so to the end of an
undertaking that all else is of secondary importance. Even now, though
his terrible sternness relaxed under the relief from the strain, he
never flagged nor faltered for a moment in his purpose. He asked us
men to come with him; and going to the hall we presently managed to
lower into the cave an oak table, fairly long and not too wide, which
stood against the wall in the hall. This we placed under the strong
cluster of electric lights in the middle of the cave. Margaret looked
on for a while; then all at once her face blanched, and in an agitated
voice she said:
“What are you going to do, Father?”
“To unroll the mummy of the cat! Queen Tera will not need her Familiar
tonight. If she should want him, it might be dangerous to us; so we
shall make him safe. You are not alarmed, dear?”
“Oh no!” she answered quickly. “But I was thinking of my Silvio, and
how I should feel if he had been the mummy that was to be unswathed!”
Mr. Trelawny got knives and scissors ready, and placed the cat on the
table. It was a grim beginning to our work; and it made my heart sink
when I thought of what might happen in that lonely house in the
mid-gloom of the night. The sense of loneliness and isolation from the
world was increased by the moaning of the wind which had now risen
ominously, and by the beating of waves on the rocks below. But we had
too grave a task before us to be swayed by external manifestations:
the unrolling of the mummy began.
There was an incredible number of bandages; and the tearing sound—they
being stuck fast to each other by bitumen and gums and spices—and the
little cloud of red pungent dust that arose, pressed on the senses of
all of us. As the last wrappings came away, we saw the animal seated
before us. He was all hunkered up; his hair and teeth and claws were
complete. The eyes were closed, but the eyelids had not the fierce
look which I expected. The whiskers had been pressed down on the side
of the face by the bandaging; but when the pressure was taken away they
stood out, just as they would have done in life. He was a magnificent
creature, a tiger-cat of great size. But as we looked at him, our
first glance of admiration changed to one of fear, and a shudder ran
through each one of us; for here was a confirmation of the fears which
we had endured.
His mouth and his claws were smeared with the dry, red stains of recent
blood!
Doctor Winchester was the first to recover; blood in itself had small
disturbing quality for him. He had taken out his magnifying-glass and
was examining the stains on the cat’s mouth. Mr. Trelawny breathed
loudly, as though a strain had been taken from him.
“It is as I expected,” he said. “This promises well for what is to
follow.”
By this time Doctor Winchester was looking at the red stained paws.
“As I expected!” he said. “He has seven claws, too!” Opening his
pocket-book, he took out the piece of blotting-paper marked by Silvio’s
claws, on which was also marked in pencil a diagram of the cuts made on
Mr. Trelawny’s wrist. He placed the paper under the mummy cat’s paw.
The marks fitted exactly.
When we had carefully examined the cat, finding, however, nothing
strange about it but its wonderful preservation, Mr. Trelawny lifted it
from the table. Margaret started forward, crying out:
“Take care, Father! Take care! He may injure you!”
“Not now, my dear!” he answered as he moved towards the stairway. Her
face fell. “Where are you going?” she asked in a faint voice.
“To the kitchen,” he answered. “Fire will take away all danger for the
future; even an astral body cannot materialise from ashes!” He signed
to us to follow him. Margaret turned away with a sob. I went to her;
but she motioned me back and whispered:
“No, no! Go with the others. Father may want you. Oh! it seems like
murder! The poor Queen’s pet...!” The tears were dropping from under
the fingers that covered her eyes.
In the kitchen was a fire of wood ready laid. To this Mr. Trelawny
applied a match; in a few seconds the kindling had caught and the
flames leaped. When the fire was solidly ablaze, he threw the body of
the cat into it. For a few seconds it lay a dark mass amidst the
flames, and the room was rank with the smell of burning hair. Then the
dry body caught fire too. The inflammable substances used in embalming
became new fuel, and the flames roared. A few minutes of fierce
conflagration; and then we breathed freely. Queen Tera’s Familiar was
no more!
When we went back to the cave we found Margaret sitting in the dark.
She had switched off the electric light, and only a faint glow of the
evening light came through the narrow openings. Her father went
quickly over to her and put his arms round her in a loving protective
way. She laid her head on his shoulder for a minute and seemed
comforted. Presently she called to me:
“Malcolm, turn up the light!” I carried out her orders, and could see
that, though she had been crying, her eyes were now dry. Her father
saw it too and looked glad. He said to us in a grave tone:
“Now we had better prepare for our great work. It will not do to leave
anything to the last!” Margaret must have had a suspicion of what was
coming, for it was with a sinking voice that she asked:
“What are you going to do now?” Mr. Trelawny too must have had a
suspicion of her feelings, for he answered in a low tone:
“To unroll the mummy of Queen Tera!” She came close to him and said
pleadingly in a whisper:
“Father, you are not going to unswathe her! All you men...! And in
the glare of light!”
“But why not, my dear?”
“Just think, Father, a woman! All alone! In such a way! In such a
place! Oh! it’s cruel, cruel!” She was manifestly much overcome. Her
cheeks were flaming red, and her eyes were full of indignant tears.
Her father saw her distress; and, sympathising with it, began to
comfort her. I was moving off; but he signed to me to stay. I took it
that after the usual manner of men he wanted help on such an occasion,
and man-like wished to throw on someone else the task of dealing with a
woman in indignant distress. However, he began to appeal first to her
reason:
“Not a woman, dear; a mummy! She has been dead nearly five thousand
years!”
“What does that matter? Sex is not a matter of years! A woman is a
woman, if she had been dead five thousand centuries! And you expect
her to arise out of that long sleep! It could not be real death, if
she is to rise out of it! You have led me to believe that she will
come alive when the Coffer is opened!”
“I did, my dear; and I believe it! But if it isn’t death that has been
the matter with her all these years, it is something uncommonly like
it. Then again, just think; it was men who embalmed her. They didn’t
have women’s rights or lady doctors in ancient Egypt, my dear! And
besides,” he went on more freely, seeing that she was accepting his
argument, if not yielding to it, “we men are accustomed to such things.
Corbeck and I have unrolled a hundred mummies; and there were as many
women as men amongst them. Doctor Winchester in his work has had to
deal with women as well of men, till custom has made him think nothing
of sex. Even Ross has in his work as a barrister...” He stopped
suddenly.
“You were going to help too!” she said to me, with an indignant look.
I said nothing; I thought silence was best. Mr. Trelawny went on
hurriedly; I could see that he was glad of interruption, for the part
of his argument concerning a barrister’s work was becoming decidedly
weak:
“My child, you will be with us yourself. Would we do anything which
would hurt or offend you? Come now! be reasonable! We are not at a
pleasure party. We are all grave men, entering gravely on an
experiment which may unfold the wisdom of old times, and enlarge human
knowledge indefinitely; which may put the minds of men on new tracks of
thought and research. An experiment,” as he went on his voice
deepened, “which may be fraught with death to any one of us—to us all!
We know from what has been, that there are, or may be, vast and unknown
dangers ahead of us, of which none in the house today may ever see the
end. Take it, my child, that we are not acting lightly; but with all
the gravity of deeply earnest men! Besides, my dear, whatever feelings
you or any of us may have on the subject, it is necessary for the
success of the experiment to unswathe her. I think that under any
circumstances it would be necessary to remove the wrappings before she
became again a live human being instead of a spiritualised corpse with
an astral body. Were her original intention carried out, and did she
come to new life within her mummy wrappings, it might be to exchange a
coffin for a grave! She would die the death of the buried alive! But
now, when she has voluntarily abandoned for the time her astral power,
there can be no doubt on the subject.”
Margaret’s face cleared. “All right, Father!” she said as she kissed
him. “But oh! it seems a horrible indignity to a Queen, and a woman.”
I was moving away to the staircase when she called me:
“Where are you going?” I came back and took her hand and stroked it as
I answered:
“I shall come back when the unrolling is over!” She looked at me long,
and a faint suggestion of a smile came over her face as she said:
“Perhaps you had better stay, too! It may be useful to you in your
work as a barrister!” She smiled out as she met my eyes: but in an
instant she changed. Her face grew grave, and deadly white. In a far
away voice she said:
“Father is right! It is a terrible occasion; we need all to be serious
over it. But all the same—nay, for that very reason you had better
stay, Malcolm! You may be glad, later on, that you were present
tonight!”
My heart sank down, down, at her words; but I thought it better to say
nothing. Fear was stalking openly enough amongst us already!
By this time Mr. Trelawny, assisted by Mr. Corbeck and Doctor
Winchester, had raised the lid of the ironstone sarcophagus which
contained the mummy of the Queen. It was a large one; but it was none
too big. The mummy was both long and broad and high; and was of such
weight that it was no easy task, even for the four of us, to lift it
out. Under Mr. Trelawny’s direction we laid it out on the table
prepared for it.
Then, and then only, did the full horror of the whole thing burst upon
me! There, in the full glare of the light, the whole material and
sordid side of death seemed staringly real. The outer wrappings, torn
and loosened by rude touch, and with the colour either darkened by dust
or worn light by friction, seemed creased as by rough treatment; the
jagged edges of the wrapping-cloths looked fringed; the painting was
patchy, and the varnish chipped. The coverings were evidently many,
for the bulk was great. But through all, showed that unhidable human
figure, which seems to look more horrible when partially concealed than
at any other time. What was before us was Death, and nothing else.
All the romance and sentiment of fancy had disappeared. The two elder
men, enthusiasts who had often done such work, were not disconcerted;
and Doctor Winchester seemed to hold himself in a business-like
attitude, as if before the operating-table. But I felt low-spirited,
and miserable, and ashamed; and besides I was pained and alarmed by
Margaret’s ghastly pallor.
Then the work began. The unrolling of the mummy cat had prepared me
somewhat for it; but this was so much larger, and so infinitely more
elaborate, that it seemed a different thing. Moreover, in addition to
the ever present sense of death and humanity, there was a feeling of
something finer in all this. The cat had been embalmed with coarser
materials; here, all, when once the outer coverings were removed, was
more delicately done. It seemed as if only the finest gums and spices
had been used in this embalming. But there were the same surroundings,
the same attendant red dust and pungent presence of bitumen; there was
the same sound of rending which marked the tearing away of the
bandages. There were an enormous number of these, and their bulk when
opened was great. As the men unrolled them, I grew more and more
excited. I did not take a part in it myself; Margaret had looked at me
gratefully as I drew back. We clasped hands, and held each other hard.
As the unrolling went on, the wrappings became finer, and the smell
less laden with bitumen, but more pungent. We all, I think, began to
feel it as though it caught or touched us in some special way. This,
however, did not interfere with the work; it went on uninterruptedly.
Some of the inner wrappings bore symbols or pictures. These were done
sometimes wholly in pale green colour, sometimes in many colours; but
always with a prevalence of green. Now and again Mr. Trelawny or Mr.
Corbeck would point out some special drawing before laying the bandage
on the pile behind them, which kept growing to a monstrous height.
At last we knew that the wrappings were coming to an end. Already the
proportions were reduced to those of a normal figure of the manifest
height of the Queen, who was more than average height. And as the end
drew nearer, so Margaret’s pallor grew; and her heart beat more and
more wildly, till her breast heaved in a way that frightened me.
Just as her father was taking away the last of the bandages, he
happened to look up and caught the pained and anxious look of her pale
face. He paused, and taking her concern to be as to the outrage on
modesty, said in a comforting way:
“Do not be uneasy, dear! See! there is nothing to harm you. The Queen
has on a robe.—Ay, and a royal robe, too!”
The wrapping was a wide piece the whole length of the body. It being
removed, a profusely full robe of white linen had appeared, covering
the body from the throat to the feet.
And such linen! We all bent over to look at it.
Margaret lost her concern, in her woman’s interest in fine stuff. Then
the rest of us looked with admiration; for surely such linen was never
seen by the eyes of our age. It was as fine as the finest silk. But
never was spun or woven silk which lay in such gracious folds,
constrict though they were by the close wrappings of the mummy cloth,
and fixed into hardness by the passing of thousands of years.
Round the neck it was delicately embroidered in pure gold with tiny
sprays of sycamore; and round the feet, similarly worked, was an
endless line of lotus plants of unequal height, and with all the
graceful abandon of natural growth.
Across the body, but manifestly not surrounding it, was a girdle of
jewels. A wondrous girdle, which shone and glowed with all the forms
and phases and colours of the sky!
The buckle was a great yellow stone, round of outline, deep and curved,
as if a yielding globe had been pressed down. It shone and glowed, as
though a veritable sun lay within; the rays of its light seemed to
strike out and illumine all round. Flanking it were two great
moonstones of lesser size, whose glowing, beside the glory of the
sunstone, was like the silvery sheen of moonlight.
And then on either side, linked by golden clasps of exquisite shape,
was a line of flaming jewels, of which the colours seemed to glow.
Each of these stones seemed to hold a living star, which twinkled in
every phase of changing light.
Margaret raised her hands in ecstasy. She bent over to examine more
closely; but suddenly drew back and stood fully erect at her grand
height. She seemed to speak with the conviction of absolute knowledge
as she said:
“That is no cerement! It was not meant for the clothing of death! It
is a marriage robe!”
Mr. Trelawny leaned over and touched the linen robe. He lifted a fold
at the neck, and I knew from the quick intake of his breath that
something had surprised him. He lifted yet a little more; and then he,
too, stood back and pointed, saying:
“Margaret is right! That dress is not intended to be worn by the dead!
See! her figure is not robed in it. It is but laid upon her.” He
lifted the zone of jewels and handed it to Margaret. Then with both
hands he raised the ample robe, and laid it across the arms which she
extended in a natural impulse. Things of such beauty were too precious
to be handled with any but the greatest care.
We all stood awed at the beauty of the figure which, save for the face
cloth, now lay completely nude before us. Mr. Trelawny bent over, and
with hands that trembled slightly, raised this linen cloth which was of
the same fineness as the robe. As he stood back and the whole glorious
beauty of the Queen was revealed, I felt a rush of shame sweep over me.
It was not right that we should be there, gazing with irreverent eyes
on such unclad beauty: it was indecent; it was almost sacrilegious!
And yet the white wonder of that beautiful form was something to dream
of. It was not like death at all; it was like a statue carven in ivory
by the hand of a Praxiteles. There was nothing of that horrible
shrinkage which death seems to effect in a moment. There was none of
the wrinkled toughness which seems to be a leading characteristic of
most mummies. There was not the shrunken attenuation of a body dried in
the sand, as I had seen before in museums. All the pores of the body
seemed to have been preserved in some wonderful way. The flesh was
full and round, as in a living person; and the skin was as smooth as
satin. The colour seemed extraordinary. It was like ivory, new ivory;
except where the right arm, with shattered, blood-stained wrist and
missing hand had lain bare to exposure in the sarcophagus for so many
tens of centuries.
With a womanly impulse; with a mouth that drooped with pity, with eyes
that flashed with anger, and cheeks that flamed, Margaret threw over
the body the beautiful robe which lay across her arm. Only the face
was then to be seen. This was more startling even than the body, for
it seemed not dead, but alive. The eyelids were closed; but the long,
black, curling lashes lay over on the cheeks. The nostrils, set in
grave pride, seemed to have the repose which, when it is seen in life,
is greater than the repose of death. The full, red lips, though the
mouth was not open, showed the tiniest white line of pearly teeth
within. Her hair, glorious in quantity and glossy black as the raven’s
wing, was piled in great masses over the white forehead, on which a few
curling tresses strayed like tendrils. I was amazed at the likeness to
Margaret, though I had had my mind prepared for this by Mr. Corbeck’s
quotation of her father’s statement. This woman—I could not think of
her as a mummy or a corpse—was the image of Margaret as my eyes had
first lit on her. The likeness was increased by the jewelled ornament
which she wore in her hair, the “Disk and Plumes”, such as Margaret,
too, had worn. It, too, was a glorious jewel; one noble pearl of
moonlight lustre, flanked by carven pieces of moonstone.
Mr. Trelawny was overcome as he looked. He quite broke down; and when
Margaret flew to him and held him close in her arms and comforted him,
I heard him murmur brokenly:
“It looks as if you were dead, my child!”
There was a long silence. I could hear without the roar of the wind,
which was now risen to a tempest, and the furious dashing of the waves
far below. Mr. Trelawny’s voice broke the spell:
“Later on we must try and find out the process of embalming. It is not
like any that I know. There does not seem to have been any opening cut
for the withdrawing of the viscera and organs, which apparently remain
intact within the body. Then, again, there is no moisture in the
flesh; but its place is supplied with something else, as though wax or
stearine had been conveyed into the veins by some subtle process. I
wonder could it be possible that at that time they could have used
paraffin. It might have been, by some process that we know not, pumped
into the veins, where it hardened!”
Margaret, having thrown a white sheet over the Queen’s body, asked us
to bring it to her own room, where we laid it on her bed. Then she
sent us away, saying:
“Leave her alone with me. There are still many hours to pass, and I do
not like to leave her lying there, all stark in the glare of light.
This may be the Bridal she prepared for—the Bridal of Death; and at
least she shall wear her pretty robes.”
When presently she brought me back to her room, the dead Queen was
dressed in the robe of fine linen with the embroidery of gold; and all
her beautiful jewels were in place. Candles were lit around her, and
white flowers lay upon her breast.
Hand in hand we stood looking at her for a while. Then with a sigh,
Margaret covered her with one of her own snowy sheets. She turned
away; and after softly closing the door of the room, went back with me
to the others who had now come into the dining-room. Here we all began
to talk over the things that had been, and that were to be.
Now and again I could feel that one or other of us was forcing
conversation, as if we were not sure of ourselves. The long wait was
beginning to tell on our nerves. It was apparent to me that Mr.
Trelawny had suffered in that strange trance more than we suspected, or
than he cared to show. True, his will and his determination were as
strong as ever; but the purely physical side of him had been weakened
somewhat. It was indeed only natural that it should be. No man can go
through a period of four days of absolute negation of life without
being weakened by it somehow.
As the hours crept by, the time passed more and more slowly. The other
men seemed to get unconsciously a little drowsy. I wondered if in the
case of Mr. Trelawny and Mr. Corbeck, who had already been under the
hypnotic influence of the Queen, the same dormancy was manifesting
itself. Doctor Winchester had periods of distraction which grew longer
and more frequent as the time wore on.
As to Margaret, the suspense told on her exceedingly, as might have
been expected in the case of a woman. She grew paler and paler still;
till at last about midnight, I began to be seriously alarmed about her.
I got her to come into the library with me, and tried to make her lie
down on a sofa for a little while. As Mr. Trelawny had decided that
the experiment was to be made exactly at the seventh hour after sunset,
it would be as nearly as possible three o’clock in the morning when the
great trial should be made. Even allowing a whole hour for the final
preparations, we had still two hours of waiting to go through, and I
promised faithfully to watch her and to awake her at any time she might
name. She would not hear of it, however. She thanked me sweetly and
smiled at me as she did so; but she assured me that she was not sleepy,
and that she was quite able to bear up. That it was only the suspense
and excitement of waiting that made her pale. I agreed perforce; but I
kept her talking of many things in the library for more than an hour;
so that at last, when she insisted on going back to her father’s room I
felt that I had at least done something to help her pass the time.
We found the three men sitting patiently in silence. With manlike
fortitude they were content to be still when they felt they had done
all in their power. And so we waited.
The striking of two o’clock seemed to freshen us all up. Whatever
shadows had been settling over us during the long hours preceding
seemed to lift at once; and we went about our separate duties alert and
with alacrity. We looked first to the windows to see that they were
closed, and we got ready our respirators to put them on when the time
should be close at hand. We had from the first arranged to use them
for we did not know whether some noxious fume might not come from the
magic coffer when it should be opened. Somehow, it never seemed to
occur to any of us that there was any doubt as to its opening.
Then, under Margaret’s guidance, we carried the mummied body of Queen
Tera from her room into her father’s, and laid it on a couch. We put
the sheet lightly over it, so that if she should wake she could at once
slip from under it. The severed hand was placed in its true position
on her breast, and under it the Jewel of Seven Stars which Mr. Trelawny
had taken from the great safe. It seemed to flash and blaze as he put
it in its place.
It was a strange sight, and a strange experience. The group of grave
silent men carried the white still figure, which looked like an ivory
statue when through our moving the sheet fell back, away from the
lighted candles and the white flowers. We placed it on the couch in
that other room, where the blaze of the electric lights shone on the
great sarcophagus fixed in the middle of the room ready for the final
experiment, the great experiment consequent on the researches during a
lifetime of these two travelled scholars. Again, the startling
likeness between Margaret and the mummy, intensified by her own
extraordinary pallor, heightened the strangeness of it all. When all
was finally fixed three-quarters of an hour had gone, for we were
deliberate in all our doings. Margaret beckoned me, and I went out
with her to bring in Silvio. He came to her purring. She took him up
and handed him to me; and then did a thing which moved me strangely and
brought home to me keenly the desperate nature of the enterprise on
which we were embarked. One by one, she blew out the candles carefully
and placed them back in their usual places. When she had finished she
said to me:
“They are done with now. Whatever comes—life or death—there will be
no purpose in their using now.” Then taking Silvio into her arms, and
pressing him close to her bosom where he purred loudly, we went back to
the room. I closed the door carefully behind me, feeling as I did so a
strange thrill as of finality. There was to be no going back now.
Then we put on our respirators, and took our places as had been
arranged. I was to stand by the taps of the electric lights beside the
door, ready to turn them off or on as Mr. Trelawny should direct.
Doctor Winchester was to stand behind the couch so that he should not
be between the mummy and the sarcophagus; he was to watch carefully
what should take place with regard to the Queen. Margaret was to be
beside him; she held Silvio ready to place him upon the couch or beside
it when she might think right. Mr. Trelawny and Mr. Corbeck were to
attend to the lighting of the lamps. When the hands of the clock were
close to the hour, they stood ready with their linstocks.
The striking of the silver bell of the clock seemed to smite on our
hearts like a knell of doom. One! Two! Three!
Before the third stroke the wicks of the lamps had caught, and I had
turned out the electric light. In the dimness of the struggling lamps,
and after the bright glow of the electric light, the room and all
within it took weird shapes, and all seemed in an instant to change.
We waited with our hearts beating. I know mine did, and I fancied I
could hear the pulsation of the others.
The seconds seemed to pass with leaden wings. It were as though all
the world were standing still. The figures of the others stood out
dimly, Margaret’s white dress alone showing clearly in the gloom. The
thick respirators which we all wore added to the strange appearance.
The thin light of the lamps showed Mr. Trelawny’s square jaw and strong
mouth and the brown shaven face of Mr. Corbeck. Their eyes seemed to
glare in the light. Across the room Doctor Winchester’s eyes twinkled
like stars, and Margaret’s blazed like black suns. Silvio’s eyes were
like emeralds.
Would the lamps never burn up!
It was only a few seconds in all till they did blaze up. A slow,
steady light, growing more and more bright, and changing in colour from
blue to crystal white. So they stayed for a couple of minutes without
change in the coffer; till at last there began to appear all over it a
delicate glow. This grew and grew, till it became like a blazing
jewel, and then like a living thing whose essence of life was light.
We waited and waited, our hearts seeming to stand still.
All at once there was a sound like a tiny muffled explosion and the
cover lifted right up on a level plane a few inches; there was no
mistaking anything now, for the whole room was full of a blaze of
light. Then the cover, staying fast at one side rose slowly up on the
other, as though yielding to some pressure of balance. The coffer
still continued to glow; from it began to steal a faint greenish smoke.
I could not smell it fully on account of the respirator; but, even
through that, I was conscious of a strange pungent odour. Then this
smoke began to grow thicker, and to roll out in volumes of ever
increasing density till the whole room began to get obscure. I had a
terrible desire to rush over to Margaret, whom I saw through the smoke
still standing erect behind the couch. Then, as I looked, I saw Doctor
Winchester sink down. He was not unconscious; for he waved his hand
back and forward, as though to forbid any one to come to him. At this
time the figures of Mr. Trelawny and Mr. Corbeck were becoming
indistinct in the smoke which rolled round them in thick billowy
clouds. Finally I lost sight of them altogether. The coffer still
continued to glow; but the lamps began to grow dim. At first I thought
that their light was being overpowered by the thick black smoke; but
presently I saw that they were, one by one, burning out. They must
have burned quickly to produce such fierce and vivid flames.
I waited and waited, expecting every instant to hear the command to
turn up the light; but none came. I waited still, and looked with
harrowing intensity at the rolling billows of smoke still pouring out
of the glowing casket, whilst the lamps sank down and went out one by
one.
Finally there was but one lamp alight, and that was dimly blue and
flickering. The only effective light in the room was from the glowing
casket. I kept my eyes fixed toward Margaret; it was for her now that
all my anxiety was claimed. I could just see her white frock beyond
the still white shrouded figure on the couch. Silvio was troubled; his
piteous mewing was the only sound in the room. Deeper and denser grew
the black mist and its pungency began to assail my nostrils as well as
my eyes. Now the volume of smoke coming from the coffer seemed to
lessen, and the smoke itself to be less dense. Across the room I saw
something white move where the couch was. There were several
movements. I could just catch the quick glint of white through the
dense smoke in the fading light; for now the glow of the coffer began
quickly to subside. I could still hear Silvio, but his mewing came
from close under; a moment later I could feel him piteously crouching
on my foot.
Then the last spark of light disappeared, and through the Egyptian
darkness I could see the faint line of white around the window blinds.
I felt that the time had come to speak; so I pulled off my respirator
and called out:
“Shall I turn up the light?” There was no answer; so before the thick
smoke choked me, I called again but more loudly:
“Mr. Trelawny, shall I turn up the light?” He did not answer; but from
across the room I heard Margaret’s voice, sounding as sweet and clear
as a bell:
“Yes, Malcolm!” I turned the tap and the lamps flashed out. But they
were only dim points of light in the midst of that murky ball of smoke.
In that thick atmosphere there was little possibility of illumination.
I ran across to Margaret, guided by her white dress, and caught hold of
her and held her hand. She recognised my anxiety and said at once:
“I am all right.”
“Thank God!” I said. “How are the others? Quick, let us open all the
windows and get rid of this smoke!” To my surprise, she answered in a
sleepy way:
“They will be all right. They won’t get any harm.” I did not stop to
inquire how or on what ground she formed such an opinion, but threw up
the lower sashes of all the windows, and pulled down the upper. Then I
threw open the door.
A few seconds made a perceptible change as the thick, black smoke began
to roll out of the windows. Then the lights began to grow into
strength and I could see the room. All the men were overcome. Beside
the couch Doctor Winchester lay on his back as though he had sunk down
and rolled over; and on the farther side of the sarcophagus, where they
had stood, lay Mr. Trelawny and Mr. Corbeck. It was a relief to me to
see that, though they were unconscious, all three were breathing
heavily as though in a stupor. Margaret still stood behind the couch.
She seemed at first to be in a partially dazed condition; but every
instant appeared to get more command of herself. She stepped forward
and helped me to raise her father and drag him close to a window.
Together we placed the others similarly, and she flew down to the
dining-room and returned with a decanter of brandy. This we proceeded
to administer to them all in turn. It was not many minutes after we
had opened the windows when all three were struggling back to
consciousness. During this time my entire thoughts and efforts had
been concentrated on their restoration; but now that this strain was
off, I looked round the room to see what had been the effect of the
experiment. The thick smoke had nearly cleared away; but the room was
still misty and was full of a strange pungent acrid odour.
The great sarcophagus was just as it had been. The coffer was open,
and in it, scattered through certain divisions or partitions wrought in
its own substance, was a scattering of black ashes. Over all,
sarcophagus, coffer and, indeed, all in the room, was a sort of black
film of greasy soot. I went over to the couch. The white sheet still
lay over part of it; but it had been thrown back, as might be when one
is stepping out of bed.
But there was no sign of Queen Tera! I took Margaret by the hand and
led her over. She reluctantly left her father to whom she was
administering, but she came docilely enough. I whispered to her as I
held her hand:
“What has become of the Queen? Tell me! You were close at hand, and
must have seen if anything happened!” She answered me very softly:
“There was nothing that I could see. Until the smoke grew too dense I
kept my eyes on the couch, but there was no change. Then, when all
grew so dark that I could not see, I thought I heard a movement close
to me. It might have been Doctor Winchester who had sunk down overcome;
but I could not be sure. I thought that it might be the Queen waking,
so I put down poor Silvio. I did not see what became of him; but I
felt as if he had deserted me when I heard him mewing over by the door.
I hope he is not offended with me!” As if in answer, Silvio came
running into the room and reared himself against her dress, pulling it
as though clamouring to be taken up. She stooped down and took him up
and began to pet and comfort him.
I went over and examined the couch and all around it most carefully.
When Mr. Trelawny and Mr. Corbeck recovered sufficiently, which they
did quickly, though Doctor Winchester took longer to come round, we
went over it afresh. But all we could find was a sort of ridge of
impalpable dust, which gave out a strange dead odour. On the couch lay
the jewel of the disk and plumes which the Queen had worn in her hair,
and the Star Jewel which had words to command the Gods.
Other than this we never got clue to what had happened. There was just
one thing which confirmed our idea of the physical annihilation of the
mummy. In the sarcophagus in the hall, where we had placed the mummy
of the cat, was a small patch of similar dust.
* * * * *
In the autumn Margaret and I were married. On the occasion she wore
the mummy robe and zone and the jewel which Queen Tera had worn in her
hair. On her breast, set in a ring of gold make like a twisted lotus
stalk, she wore the strange Jewel of Seven Stars which held words to
command the God of all the worlds. At the marriage the sunlight
streaming through the chancel windows fell on it, and it seemed to glow
like a living thing.
The graven words may have been of efficacy; for Margaret holds to them,
and there is no other life in all the world so happy as my own.
We often think of the great Queen, and we talk of her freely. Once,
when I said with a sigh that I was sorry she could not have waked into
a new life in a new world, my wife, putting both her hands in mine and
looking into my eyes with that far-away eloquent dreamy look which
sometimes comes into her own, said lovingly:
“Do not grieve for her! Who knows, but she may have found the joy she
sought? Love and patience are all that make for happiness in this
world; or in the world of the past or of the future; of the living or
the dead. She dreamed her dream; and that is all that any of us can
ask!”
THE END