Of the circumstances under which my senses returned to me after the
remarkable vision, for that is the only name I can assign to it, which I
have described in the preceding chapter, only the vaguest recollection
remains to me.
When Pharos had ordered me to drink the stuff he had poured out, we were
standing before the Sphinx at Gizeh; now, when I opened my eyes, I was
back once more in my bedroom at the hotel in Cairo. Brilliant sunshine
was streaming in through the jalousies, and I could hear footsteps in
the corridor outside. At first I felt inclined to treat the whole as a
dream; but the marks upon my hands, made when I had beaten them on the
rough walls of that terrible chamber in the Pyramid, soon showed me the
futility of so doing. I remembered how I had run round and round that
dreadful place in search of a way out, and the horror of the
recollection was sufficient to bring a cold sweat out once more upon my
forehead. Strange to say, I mean strange in the light of all that has
transpired since, the memory of the threat Pharos had used to me caused
me no uneasiness, and yet, permeating my whole being, was a loathing for
him and a haunting fear that was beyond description in words. This
dislike was the outcome not so much of a physical animosity, if I may so
designate it, as of a peculiar description of supernatural fear. Reason
with myself as I would I could not get rid of the belief that the man
was more than he pretended to be, that there was some link between him
and the Unseen which it was impossible for me to understand. Arguing
with myself in this way I was the more disposed to believe in the vision
of the preceding night.
On consulting my watch I was amazed to find that it wanted only a few
minutes of ten o'clock. I sprang from my bed, and a moment later came
within an ace of measuring my length upon the floor. What occasioned
this weakness I could not tell, but the fact remains that I was as
feeble as a little child. The room spun round and round until I became
so giddy that I was compelled to clutch at a table for support. What was
even stranger, I was conscious of a sharp pricking on my left arm a
little above the elbow, which eventually became so sharp that it could
be felt not only on the tips of my fingers but for some distance down my
side. To examine the place was the work of a moment. On the fleshy part
of the arm, three inches or so above the elbow, was a small spot, such
as might have been made by some sharp pointed instrument, a hypodermic
syringe for instance, and which was fast changing from a pale pink to a
purple hue. My wonderment was increased when I discovered that the spot
itself, and the flesh surrounding it for more than an inch, was
incapable of sensation. I puzzled my brains in vain to account for its
presence there. I could not remember scratching myself with anything in
my room, nor could I discover that the coat I bad worn on the preceding
evening showed any signs of a puncture.
After a few moments the feeling of weakness which had seized me when I
first left my bed wore off. I accordingly dressed myself with as much
despatch as I could put into the operation, and my toilet being
completed, left my room and went in search of the Fraeulein Valerie. To
my disappointment she was not visible. I, however, discovered Pharos
seated in the veranda, in the full glare of the morning sun, with the
monkey, Pehtes, on his knee. For once he was in the very best of
tempers. Indeed, since I had first made his acquaintance I never
remembered to have known him so merry. At a sign I seated myself beside
him.
"My friend," he began, "I am rejoiced to see you. Permit me to inform
you that you had a narrow escape last night. However, since you are up
and about this morning I presume you are feeling none the worse for it."
I described the fit of vertigo which had overtaken me when I rose from
my bed, and went on to question him as to what had happened after I had
become unconscious on the preceding night.
"I assure you you came very near being a lost man," he answered. "As
good luck had it I had not left the Pyramid and so heard you cry for
help, otherwise you might be in the Queen's Hall at this minute. You
were unconscious when we found you, and you had not recovered by the
time we reached home again."
"Not recovered?" I cried in amazement. "But I walked out of the Pyramid
unassisted, and accompanied you across the sands to the Sphinx, where
you gave me something to drink and made me see a vision."
Pharos gazed incredulously at me.
"My dear fellow, you must have dreamed it," he said. "After all you had
gone through it is scarcely likely I should have permitted you to walk,
while as for the vision you speak of--well, I must leave that to your
own common sense. If necessary my servants will testify to the
difficulty we experienced in getting you out of the Pyramid, while the
very fact that you yourself have no recollection of the homeward
journey would help to corroborate what I say."
This was all very plausible; at the same time I was far from being
convinced. I knew my man too well by this time to believe that because
he denied any knowledge of the circumstance in question he was really as
innocent as he was plainly anxious I should think him. The impression
the vision, for I shall always call it by that name, had made upon me
was still clear and distinct in my mind. I closed my eyes and once more
saw the street filled with that strangely dressed crowd, which drew back
on either hand to make a way for the disgraced Magician to pass through.
It was all so real, and yet, as I am compelled to confess, so
improbable, that I scarcely know what to think. Before I could come to
any satisfactory decision Pharos turned to me again.
"Whatever your condition last night may have been," he said, "it is
plain you are better this morning, and I am rejoiced to see it, for the
reason I have made arrangements to complete the business which has
brought us here. Had you not been well enough to travel I should have
been compelled to leave you behind."
I searched his face for an explanation.
"The mummy?" I asked.
"Exactly," he replied. "The mummy. We leave Cairo this afternoon for
Luxor. I have made the necessary arrangements, and we join the steamer
at midday, that is to say in about two hours' time."
I inquired after the Fraeulein Valerie, whom I had not yet seen,
whereupon Pharos informed me that she had gone to her cabin to prepare
for the excursion up the Nile.
"And now, Mr. Forrester," he said, rising from his chair and returning
the monkey to his place of shelter in the breast of his coat, "if I were
you I should follow her example. It will be necessary for us to start as
punctually as possible."
Sharp on the stroke of twelve a carriage made its appearance at the door
of the hotel. The Fraeulein Valerie, Pharos, and myself took our places
in it, the gigantic Arab whom I had seen at the Pyramid on the preceding
night, and who I was quite certain had held my arms when Pharos
compelled me to drink the potion before the Sphinx, took his place
beside the driver, and we set off along the road to Bulak _en route_ to
the Embabeh. Having reached this, one of the most characteristic spots
in Cairo, we made our way along the bank toward a landing-stage, beside
which a handsome steamer was moored. If anything had been wanting to
convince me of the respect felt for Pharos by the Arabs, I should have
found it in the behaviour of the crew of this vessel. Had he been imbued
with the powers of life and death, they could scarcely have stood in
greater awe of him.
Our party being on board, there was no occasion for any further delay,
consequently, as soon as we had reached the upper deck, the ropes were
cast off, and with prodigious fuss the steamer made her way out into mid
stream, and began the voyage which was destined to end in such a strange
fashion for all our party.
Full as my life had been of extraordinary circumstances during the last
few weeks, I am not certain that my feelings as I stood upon the deck of
the steamer while she made her way up stream, passed the Khedive's
Palace, the Kasr-en-Nil barracks, Kasr-el-Ain, the Island of Rodah, and
Gizeh, did not eclipse them. Our vessel was a most luxurious one, and to
charter her must have cost Pharos a pretty penny. Immediately we got
under way the latter departed to his cabin, while the Fraeulein Valerie
and I stood side by side under the awning, watching the fast-changing
landscape in silence. The day was hot, with scarcely a breath of wind to
cool the air. Ever since the first week in June the Nile had been
rising, and was now running a swift and muddy river only a few feet
below the level of her banks. I looked at my companion, and as I did so
thought of all that we had been through together in the short time we
had known each other. Less than a month before, Pharos and I had to all
intents and purposes been strangers, and Valerie and I had not met at
all. Now I was embarking on a voyage up the Nile in their company, and
for what purpose? To restore the body of Merenptah's Chief Magician to
the tomb from which it had been taken by my own father nearly twenty
years before. Could anything have seemed more unlikely, and yet could
anything have been more true? Amiable as were my relations with my host
at present, there was a feeling deep down in my heart that troublous
times lay ahead of us. The explanation Pharos had given me of what had
occurred on the preceding night had been plausible enough, as I have
said, and yet I was far from being convinced by it. There were only two
things open to me to believe. Either he had stood over me saying, "For
the future you are mine to do with as I please; you will have no will
but my pleasure, no thought but to act as I shall tell you," or I had
dreamed it. When I had taxed him with it some hours before, he had
laughed at me, and had told me to attribute it all to the excited
condition of my brain. But the feeling of reality with which it had
inspired me was, I felt sure, too strong for it to have been imaginary;
and yet, do what I would, I could not throw off the unpleasant belief
that, however much I might attempt to delude myself to the contrary, I
was in reality more deeply in his power than I fancied myself to be.
One thing struck me most forcibly, and that was the fact that now we
were away from Cairo, the Fraeulein Valerie was in better spirits than I
had yet seen her. Glad as I was, however, to find her happier, the
knowledge of her cheerfulness, for some reason or another, chilled and
even disappointed me. Yet, Heaven knows, had I been asked, I must have
confessed that I should have been even more miserable had she been
unhappy. When I joined them at lunch I was convinced that I was a
discordant note. I was thoroughly out of humour, not only with myself,
but with the world in general, and the fit had not left me when I made
my way up to the deck again.
Downcast as I was, however, I could not repress an exclamation of
pleasure at the scene I saw before me when I reached it. In the
afternoon light the view, usually so uninviting, was picturesque in the
extreme. Palm groves decorated either bank, with here and there an Arab
village peering from among them, while, as if to afford a fitting
background, in the distance could be seen the faint outline of the
Libyan Hills. At any other time I should have been unable to contain
myself until I had made a sketch of it; now, however, while it impressed
me with its beauty, it only served to remind me of the association in
which I found myself. The centre of the promenade deck, immediately
abaft the funnel, was arranged somewhat in the fashion of a
sitting-room, with a carpet, easy-chairs, a sofa, and corresponding
luxuries. I seated myself in one of the chairs, and was still idly
watching the country through which we were passing, when Pharos made his
appearance from below, carrying the monkey Pehtes in his arms, and
seated himself beside me. It was plain that he was still in a contented
frame of mind, and his opening speech, when he addressed me, showed that
he had no intention of permitting me to be in anything else.
"My dear Forrester," he said in what was intended to be a conciliatory
tone, "I feel sure you have something upon your mind that is worrying
you. Is it possible you are still brooding over what you said to me this
morning? Remember you are my guest; I am responsible for your happiness.
I can not permit you to wear such an expression of melancholy. Pray tell
me your trouble, and if I can help you in any way, rest assured I shall
only be too glad to do so."
"I am afraid, after the explanation you gave me this morning, that it is
impossible for you to help me," I answered. "To tell the truth, I have
been worrying over what happened last night, and the more I think of it
the less able I am to understand."
"What is it you find difficult to understand?" he inquired. "I thought
we were agreed on the subject when we spoke of it this morning."
"Not as far as I am concerned," I replied. "And if you will consider for
a moment, I fancy you will understand why. As I told you then, I have
the best possible recollection of all that befell me in the Pyramid, and
of the fright I sustained in that terrible room. I remember your coming
to my assistance, and I am as convinced that, when my senses returned to
me, I followed you down the passage, out into the open air, and across
the sands to a spot before the Sphinx, where you gave me some strange
concoction to drink, as I am that I am now sitting on this deck beside
you."
"And I assure you with equal sincerity that it is all a delusion," he
replied. "You must have dreamed the whole thing. Now I come to think of
it, I _do_ remember that you said something about a vision which I
enabled you to see. Perhaps, as your memory is so keen on the subject,
you may be able to give me some idea of its nature."
I accordingly described what I had seen. From the way he hung upon my
words it was evident that the subject interested him more than he cared
to confess. Indeed, when I had finished he gave a little gasp that was
plainly one of relief, though why he should have been so I could not
understand.
"And the man you saw coming through the crowd, this Ptahmes, what was he
like? Did you recognise him? Should you know his face again?"
"I scarcely know how to tell you," I answered diffidently, a doubt as to
whether I had really seen the vision I had described coming over me for
the first time, now that I was brought face to face with the assertion I
was about to make. "It seems so impossible, and I am weak enough to feel
that I should not like you to think I am jesting. The truth of the
matter is, the face of the disgraced Magician was none other than your
own. You were Ptahmes, the man who walked with his face covered with his
mantle, and before whom the crowd drew back as if they feared him, and
yet hated him the more because they did so."
"The slaves, the craven curs!" muttered Pharos fiercely to himself,
suddenly oblivious to my presence, his sunken eyes looking out across
the water, but I am convinced seeing nothing. "So long as he was
successful they sang his praises through the city, but when he failed
and was cast out from before Pharaoh, there were only six in all the
country brave enough to declare themselves his friends."
Then recollecting himself he turned to me, and with one of his peculiar
laughs, to which I had by this time grown accustomed, he continued: "But
there, if I talk like this you will begin to imagine that I really have
some association with my long-deceased relative, the man of whom we are
speaking, and whose mummy is in the cabin yonder. Your account of the
vision, if by that name you still persist in calling it, is extremely
interesting, and goes another step toward proving how liable the human
brain is, under stress of great excitement, to seize upon the most
unlikely stories, and even to invest them with the necessary
_mise-en-scene_. Now I'll be bound you could reproduce the whole
picture, were such a thing necessary--the buildings, the chariots, the
dresses, nay even the very faces of the crowd."
"I am quite sure I could," I answered, filled with sudden excitement at
the idea, "and what is more I will do so. So vivid was the impression it
made upon my mind that not a detail has escaped my memory. Indeed, I
really believe that it will be found that a large proportion of the
things I saw then I had never seen or heard of before. This, I think,
should go some way toward proving that my story is not the fallacy you
suppose."
"You mistake me, my dear Forrester," he hastened to reply. "I do not go
so far as to declare it to be altogether a fallacy; I simply say that
what you think you saw must have been the effect of the fright you
received in the Pyramid. But your idea of painting the picture is
distinctly a good one, and I shall look forward with pleasure to giving
you my opinion upon it when it is finished. As you are well aware, I am
a fair Egyptologist, and I have no doubt I shall be able to detect any
error in the composition, should one exist."
"I will obtain my materials from my cabin, and set to work at once," I
said, rising from my chair, "and when I have finished you shall
certainly give me your opinion on it."
As on a similar occasion already described, under the influence of my
enthusiasm, the feeling of animosity I usually entertained toward him
left me entirely. I went to my cabin, found the things I wanted, and
returned with them to the deck. When I reached it I found the Fraeulein
Valerie there. She was dressed in white from head to foot, and was
slowly fanning herself with the same large ostrich-feather fan which I
remembered to have seen her vising on that eventful night when I had
dined with Pharos in Naples. Her left hand was hanging by her side, and
as I greeted her and reseated myself in my chair, I could not help
noticing its exquisite proportions.
"Mr. Forrester was fortunate enough to be honoured by a somewhat
extraordinary dream last night," said Pharos by way of accounting for my
sketching materials. "The subject was Egyptian, and I have induced him
to try and make a picture of the scene for our benefit."
"Do you feel equal to the task?" Valerie inquired, with unusual interest
as I thought. "Surely it must be very difficult. As a rule even the most
vivid dreams are so hard to remember in detail."
"This was something more than a dream," I answered confidently, "as I
shall presently demonstrate to Monsieur Pharos. Before I begin, however,
I am going to ask a favour in return."
"And what is that?" asked Pharos.
"That while I am at work you tell us, as far as you know it, the history
of Ptahmes, the King's Magician. Not only does it bear upon the subject
of my picture, but it is fit and proper, since we have his mummy on
board, that we should know more than we at present do of our illustrious
fellow-traveller."
"What could be fairer?" said Pharos after a slight pause. "While you
paint I will tell you all I know and since he is my ancestor, and I have
made his life my especial study, it may be supposed I am acquainted with
as much of his history as research has been able to bring to light.
Ptahmes, or, as his name signifies, the man beloved of Ptah, was the son
of Netruhotep, a Priest of the High Temple of Ammon, and a favourite of
Rameses II. From the moment of his birth great things were expected of
him, for, by the favour of the gods, he was curiously misshapen, and it
is well known that those whom the mighty ones punish in one way are
usually compensated for it in another. It is just possible that it may
be from him I inherit my own unpleasing exterior. However, to return to
Ptahmes, whose life, I can assure you, forms an interesting study. At an
early age the boy showed an extraordinary partiality for the mystic, and
it was doubtless this circumstance that induced his father to intrust
him to the care of the Chief Magician, Ilaper, a wise man, by whom the
lad was brought up. Proud of his calling, and imbued with a love for the
sacred mysteries, it is small wonder that he soon outdistanced those
with whom he was brought in contact. So rapid indeed were the strides he
made that the news of his attainments reached the ears of Pharaoh. He
was summoned to the royal presence and commanded to give an exhibition
of his powers, whereupon the King ordered him to remain at Court, and to
be constantly in attendance upon his person. From this point the youth's
career was assured. Year by year, and step by step, he made his way up
the ladder of fame till he became a mighty man in the land, a
councillor. Prophet of the North and South, and Chief of the King's
Magicians. Then, out of the land of Midian rose the star that, as it had
been written, should cross his path and bring about his downfall. This
was the Israelite Moses, who came into Egypt and set himself up against
Pharaoh, using magic, the like of which had never before been seen. But
that portion of the story is too well known to bear repetition. Let it
suffice that Pharaoh called together his councillors, the principal of
whom was Ptahmes, now a man of mature years, and consulted with them.
Pthames, foreseeing what would happen, was for acceding to the request
made by the Hebrew and letting the Israelites depart in peace from the
kingdom. To this course, however, Pharaoh would not agree, and he
allowed his favourite to understand that, not only was such advice the
reverse of palatable, but that a repetition of it would in all
probability deprive him of the royal favour. Once more the Hebrews
appeared before Pharaoh and gave evidence of their powers, speaking
openly to the King and using threats of vengeance in the event of their
demands not being acceded to. But Pharaoh was stiff-necked and refused
to listen, and in consequence evil days descended upon Egypt. By the
magic of Moses the fish died, and the waters of the Nile were polluted
so that, the people could not drink; frogs, in such numbers as had never
been seen before, made their appearance and covered the face of the
land. Then Pharaoh called upon Ptahmes and his Magicians, and bade them
imitate all that the others had done. They did so, and by their arts
frogs came up out of the land, even as Moses had made them do. Seeing
this, Pharaoh laughed the Israelites to scorn and once more refused to
consider their request, whereupon plagues of lice, flies, and boils
broke out upon man and beast, with mighty storms, and a great darkness
in which no man could see another's face. Once more Pharaoh, whose heart
was still hardened against Moses, called Ptahmes to his presence and
bade him advise him as to the course he should pursue. Being already at
war with his neighbours, he had no desire to permit this horde to cross
his borders only to side with his enemies against himself. And yet to
keep them and to risk further punishment was equally dangerous. Moses
was a stern man, and as the King had had already good reason to know,
was not one to be trifled with. Only that morning he had demanded an
audience and had threatened Pharaoh with a pestilence that should cause
the death of every first-born son throughout the land should he still
persist in his refusal.
"Now Ptahmes, who, as I have said, was an astute man, and who had
already been allowed to see the consequences of giving advice that did
not tally with his master's humour, found himself in a position, not
only of difficulty, but also of some danger. Either he must declare
himself openly in favour of letting the Hebrews go, and once more run
the risk of Pharaoh's anger and possible loss of favour, or he must side
with his master, and, having done so, put forth every effort to prevent
the punishment Moses had decreed. After hours of suspense and
overwhelming anxiety he adopted the latter course. Having taken counsel
with his fellow-Magicians, he assured Pharaoh, on the honour of the
gods, that what the Israelite had predicted could never come to pass.
Fortified with this promise, Pharaoh once more refused to permit the
strangers to leave the land. As a result the first-born son of the King,
the child whom he loved better than his kingdom, sickened of a
mysterious disease and died that night, as did the first-born of all the
Egyptians, rich and poor alike. In the words of your own Bible, 'There
was a great cry in Egypt; for there was not a house where there was not
one dead.' Then Pharaoh's hatred was bitter against his advisers, and he
determined that Ptahmes in particular should die. He sought him with the
intention of killing him, but the Magician had received timely warning
and had escaped into the mountains, where he hid himself for many
months. Little by little his health gave way, he grew weaker, and in the
fiftieth year of his life Osiris claimed him for his own. It was said at
the time that for the sin he had caused Pharaoh to do, and the misery he
had brought upon the land of Egypt, and swearing falsely in the name of
the gods, he had been cursed with perpetual life. This, however, could
not have been so, seeing that he died in the mountains, and that his
mummy was buried in the tomb whence your father took it. Such is the
story of Ptahmes, the beloved of Ptah, son of Netruhotep, Chief of the
Magicians and Prophet of the North and South."