Under the singular magnetism of her lustrous eyes, I stood dazed,
speechless, fascinated. My head throbbed with the burning of fever, my
throat contracted, my limbs trembled as if palsied, and my heart was
filled with an all-consuming terror.
Truly I was on the brink of the grave; I was peering into the yawning
chasm of the Unknown. Suddenly an awful thought occurred to me. Was
Zoraida, my idol, insane?
Bewildered and blinded in the rose-mist of happiness, the deepest
significance of her strange actions had been entirely lost to me. Love
had predominated everything, for the gracefulness of my Pearl of the
Harem had so far surpassed expectation, so dwarfed all former visions of
feminine attractiveness, that I had been struck to the heart by her
first glance after the veil had fallen from her countenance. Therefore,
was it not possible that, in failing to regard her extraordinary acts as
those of a person whose mind was unbalanced, I had foolishly allowed
myself to fall a victim to her homicidal tendencies? Though I strove to
remain calm, I involuntarily shuddered. I tried to speak, but my tongue
clave to the roof of my mouth and refused to articulate.
"_Al-an_. We are ready," she exclaimed at last, still keeping her
bright eyes fixed upon me. "With our souls distinct from our bodies, we
may now seek the knowledge withheld from mankind. Thou hast, I know,
believed me to be a common charlatan, a sorceress who imposeth upon
those who put their faith in occult arts. Now, however, that we love
each other; now that our souls are wedded in the Unseen, I will invoke
the revelation of the extraordinary secret, which, if it pleaseth the
Great Unknown, thou shalt hold as my pledge. Prepare thine eyes for the
witnessing of strange marvels, and follow me."
Walking towards me, she raised her face to mine, kissing me fondly,
then, slowly drawing back, she passed her hand quickly over her aching
forehead, and, bidding me accompany her, tottered forward to the hidden
door which previously in the evening she had ascertained was secure.
"_Addonya dar gorour_," ("The world is a house of deceit"), she said,
drawing a small key from her bosom. "In the grave there is none.
Hovering as we now are, between life and death, with the conquest of the
soul over the impulses of the body, we may catch a glimpse of the
Unknown. Therefore, let us go down and search for light at the Shrine
of Darkness. _Nahhi hatha_."
The ancient key grated in the lock, and the ponderous door swung slowly
open, revealing a narrow stone passage, the darkness of which was
cavernous and impenetrable. Taking up the lamp into which she had
sprinkled the ashes of Masinissa, she passed through the door, bidding
me close it and follow her. Her face was pale and determined, and her
wealth of dark hair, that had become unbound, fell to her waist in
luxuriant profusion. I crossed the threshold into the close, damp
passage, and pulling the door behind me it clanged loudly, the lock
securing itself with an ominous snap.
I knew I was a prisoner in this, the innermost and secret chamber of the
harem, and held my breath in expectation and alarm. Her sequins tinkled
as she walked firmly and upright with the little lamp held high above,
as down the long stone corridor that was evidently cut in the thickness
of the wall I stumbled on after her, with reeling head and unsteady
gait. A strange, sickly odour of cinnamon and musk filled my nostrils,
the air was hot and offensive, and upon the rough-hewn walls lodged the
dust of ages. A door at the end of the passage groaned as she pushed it
open, and the dim light revealed a passage still narrower, running at
right angles to that which we had traversed. Down this we walked in
silence, until our progress was barred by a thick curtain of dark plush.
Halting, she turned towards me. In her countenance a change had been
effected that startled me. The poison with which she had inoculated
herself had wrought a terrible transformation. Round her fine, clear,
luminous eyes were large dark rings that gave her bloodless face an
expression of haggard hideousness, the bloom of youth had faded from her
cheeks, now sunken, and her mouth was hard and drawn, showing the agony
she was suffering.
"Thou art ill," I exclaimed in alarm. "Let me assist thee."
"No," she replied huskily. "It is the crucial test. Preserve thine own
courage, and now, ere we enter the Shrine of Darkness that is the portal
of the Kingdom of Shades, let me urge thee, O Cecil! to maintain a level
head and clear judgment. Examine what thou seest by the light of
reason. Thou hast bound thyself irrevocably to me by the burning of the
ashes and the puncture of the poignard, and together we are seeking that
knowledge that will give us power over our fellow-creatures. Ours is a
solemn investigation, to be undertaken in no spirit of idle curiosity or
frivolity, for of a verity we are both fast sinking to the grave, and it
is only in our dying moments that the Great Secret of the Unseen World
that is forbidden to the living may be revealed unto us."
"I fear not while thou art my companion," I replied, determined not to
betray nervousness, although the sickening and excruciating pains in my
head caused everything to appear dim and hazy as a dream.
"And to the world thy lips will remain for ever sealed? _Awa lam_?" she
asked in earnestness.
"I have pledged myself to preserve silence," I replied.
"Then enter to the Shrine, and perfect peace be upon thee," she said,
summoning all her courage and drawing aside the curtain.
Upon the threshold of a grim, dark chamber I stood dumbfounded and
amazed at the strange sight that presented itself to my gaze. The
apartment was not very large, but the roof was vaulted, the arches were
curiously wrought, and by the ruddy light diffused by a single hanging
lamp, I saw it was a weird and altogether extraordinary place. Upon the
floor was a black carpet, soft as velvet, around the walls were several
rich divans, and behind a fine latticework of marble at the farther end
of the luxurious dungeon--for such it seemed to be--was a circular altar
of agate, jasper, and gold, over which a burning censer of gold was
swung by an unseen hand. Behind the altar a large luminous star shone
above with a dull red glow, and upon the altar itself stood a small
brazier which, burning brightly, rendered the atmosphere close and
oppressive.
Such was the extraordinary scene that met my dazzled eyes as I moved
forward into the secret chamber.
Zoraida, rushing wildly on before me and uttering a loud cry, fell upon
her knees before the altar, bowing until her lips touched the carpet, at
the same time murmuring some strange incantation that I could not
understand. So rapidly did she repeat the words, and so quickly she
swayed her body backwards and forwards, that she was at last seized with
hysteria. Suddenly regaining her feet, she raised her hands above her
head, uttering a curious supplication in some language with which I was
unacquainted.
At that moment I made an alarming discovery. There was a slight
movement on the carpet, and, bending to examine it, I was horrified to
find that upon the floor were venomous snakes! On the divans asps were
lying, with their flat heads erect within their coils, together with
vipers and scorpions. On every side tiny brilliant eyes seemed watching
us, and now and then a slight hiss was heard from the remoter corners of
the place. But Zoraida heeded them not. At the door she had kicked off
her embroidered slippers, and now walked barefooted among the reptiles.
When she had concluded her strange prayer, she crossed the chamber
hastily, and, tossing the velvet cushions and striped silk covering from
one of the divans, there was disclosed an ancient tomb of carved
sardonyx that was crumbling by age.
Grasping my hand, she then led me to the altar, whispering to me to
prostrate myself before it. Hand in hand we passed the marble screen
and threw ourselves down, kissing the ground; then, as we rose, she drew
from her breast a small stiletto and pricked her wrist three times with
its keen point. Holding it over the burning brazier, she allowed the
blood to drip slowly into the fire, each drop hissing loudly as it
touched the live coals.
Once she groaned, and a shudder went over her like the passing of the
wind of sundown over still water. Then, in a firm voice, she
exclaimed--
"Blessed be they who overcome human folly, vanity, and error. Blessed
be they to whom the wondrous manifestations of the Terrible Unknown are
accorded, for they shall be concealed under the dome of magnificence,
and veiled by the curtain of purity. We, Companions of the Left Hand,
on whom, alas! no peace resteth, present ourselves in quest of the
knowledge of the Crescent of Glorious Wonders, so that our lives may be
united and our happiness assured. Fervently pray we that an assurance
of favour may be granted unto us, and that the Great Secret, dead to the
world through so many ages, may be revealed."
Scarcely had she uttered these words, when from the still swinging
censer there rose a single puff of thick smoke. Zoraida was watching
for it, and as the smoke dissolved, she remarked to me in low,
impressive tones--
"Behold! our petition hath been stamped by the seal of response! It is
well. Our quest will not be in vain." Then, after a pause, she added,
"Thou, O Roumi! hast believed I am a sorceress and a charlatan. Come
hither."
She walked to the sarcophagus, and, grasping the stone that formed the
lid, pushed it off with almost superhuman effort, so that it fell
heavily down behind. Then, taking up the lamp she had brought, she held
it over the stone coffin and bade me gaze into it. With eager eyes I
obeyed her, but started back in horror.
It contained a corpse!
An old man of pale complexion, with long white beard, and dressed in the
habiliments of the grave, lay stretched with upturned face, motionless
in death.
"This man, a holy marabout, died, and entered the Garden of Delights
three years ago, yet, behold! his body hath not decayed. His misery
hath been changed to peace and his grief to tranquillity," she observed.
"That he is actually dead prove for thyself. Touch him."
I bent, placing my hand upon his white cheek. Its contact thrilled me.
It seemed icy as marble! The sightless eyes seemed to gaze into mine
with a grim, stony stare, and I drew away my hand as if I had been
stung.
"_Howa-tha_!" she cried. "I will prove further that there is no life;"
and, raising the knife in her hand, she plunged it into the breast of
the corpse.
"Art thou satisfied that he is really dead?" asked Zoraida grimly.
"Yes," I answered, shuddering, for my whole surroundings in that
subterranean Chamber of the Serpents were so uncanny, that I began to
long for light and fresh air. Was she performing all these strange
rites merely for the purpose of impressing and mystifying me; or was she
an enthusiastic devotee of some secret sect of Al-Islam? To poison
one's self before invoking the aid of the occult seemed an extraordinary
proceeding, and the whole of the rites were so curious, that, fascinated
as I was by the mysticism of the East, I regarded them with the most
intense interest.
"At the Shrine of Darkness death loseth its sting," she said. "To
communicate with Eblis, the Terrible, it is necessary that one who is
already a dweller in the Garden of Delights shall return to life and
assist us. Here, in this charnel-house, the abode of death and of the
serpents, strange knowledge may be imparted; but ere we proceed further,
the sacrifice must be made."
Snatching up a viper that lay coiled upon one of the divans, she grasped
it dexterously near the head, and, walking to the altar, held it for a
few moments above the burning brazier, repeating some weird word's,
then, as the reptile squirmed under the pain, she dropped it upon the
burning coals.
Flinging herself upon her knees, with her hands outstretched above her
head, she again invoked the aid of the mysterious Power. Pushing back
her hair, that had fallen over her shoulders, she again rose, and,
coming towards me, exclaimed--
"Watch, and I will reveal unto thee the terrible power of Eblis that
hath been imparted unto me. _Catha_!"
She looked more haggard than before. The strain upon her nerves was
evidently awful. Taking my hand, she led me back to the sarcophagus,
repeating some words in such a low tone as to be inaudible. Suddenly
she dashed forward, and with her right hand made mysterious passes over
the face of the corpse.
"Sidi Mammar ben-Mokhala, chosen of the Merciful. Peace! Again I call
upon thee, holy man of the Faith, tenant of the tomb of dignity and
light of the eyes of the discerning, to assist this Roumi to the sight
of the Crescent of Wonders, for none save myself knoweth aught of the
way thither. Blessing upon thee, and great peace on those who went
before thee!"
She paused. There was a wild look in her eyes, and her bare bosom
heaved and fell quickly.
"Arise!" she cried in a loud voice. "I, Zoraida Fathma, Daughter of the
Sun, command thy soul and body to reunite for brief space, so that thou
mayest minister at this our sacred Shrine."
A sound came from the ancient stone tomb like a long, deep-drawn sigh.
There was a slight movement, and then, as I gazed in speechless
expectancy, the corpse of the aged marabout slowly rose from its
resting-place, white, rigid, and ghastly. The amazing resurrection
appalled me. I stood with bated breath, my eyes were riveted upon the
weird figure, and I was rooted to the spot. The hair upon my head was
lifted as corn is lifted when the wind ceases suddenly, and the sweat
rolled from my brow. Truly, this mysterious woman to whom I had
voluntarily and blindly bound myself was gifted with some weird power
that was utterly amazing and incomprehensible.