In describing what occurred after the curious admonition addressed to me
by the old man who had conducted me to the subterranean chamber
mentioned in the last chapter, I am oppressed by the fear that my
narrative may seem too extraordinary to carry with it any semblance of
reality. The whole affair, from the moment when we left the steamer
until I stood where I now was, had been so mysterious, so unbelievable,
I might almost say, that I had passed from stage to stage of
bewilderment, scarcely conscious of anything but what was occurring at
the moment. In a vague fashion I wondered how it was that these rooms
had never been discovered by the hundreds of Egyptologists who, since
the time of Napoleon, had explored the temple. That it had not been so
brought to light I felt convinced, otherwise the necessity would
scarcely have existed for such secrecy as had been shown when I was
conducted to it. Besides, I had studied my guide-books carefully on our
voyage up the river, and was quite convinced that no mention of such
places had been made in any one of them.
Having finished the speech with which I closed the preceding chapter,
the old man led me toward a doorway at the farther end of the room. The
posts which supported it, and which must have been something like ten
feet in width, were covered with hieroglyphics, as were the neighbouring
walls. On either side of the doorway stood two enormous kriosphinxes,
similar to those which had once lined the avenue between the Temples of
Karnak and Luxor. These had the bodies of lions and heads of rams, and
were as perfect as on the day when they had left the sculptor's hands,
who knew how many thousand years ago. Entering the archway, for archway
I should prefer to call it rather than door, I found myself standing
between two rows of life-sized statues, all excelling in workmanship,
and in the most perfect state of preservation. Though I was not
sufficiently learned in Egyptian history to be able to assign names to
them, I was nevertheless quite capable of appreciating their immense
value, and could well imagine the find they would prove to any
Egyptologist who, in days to come, might discover the secret of the
stone and penetrate into this mysterious place.
From what I remember, and speaking at a guess, the passage could
scarcely have been less than a hundred feet in length and must have
contained at least a dozen statues. At the farther end it opened into a
smaller chamber or catacomb, in the walls of which were a number of
niches, each one containing a mummy. The place was intolerably close and
was filled with an overpowering odour of dried herbs. In the centre, and
side by side, were two alabaster slabs, each about seven feet long by
three in width. A stone pillar was at the head of each, but for what
purpose the blocks were originally intended I have no idea.
At a signal from my conductor two beings, I cannot call them men, who
from their appearances I should have judged to be as old as Pharos
himself, made their appearance, bringing with them certain vestments and
a number of curiously shaped bottles. The robes, which were of some
white material, were embroidered with hieroglyphics. These they placed
about my shoulders, and when they had done so the old fellow who had
conducted me to the place bade me stretch myself upon one of the slabs I
have just mentioned.
Under other circumstances I should have protested most vigorously, but I
was in such a position now that I came to the conclusion that it would
not only be useless but most impolitic on my part to put myself in
opposition against him thus early in the day. I accordingly did as I was
ordered. The two attendants, who were small, thin, and wizened almost
beyond belief, immediately began to anoint my face and hands with some
sweet-smelling essences taken from the bottles they had brought with
them. The perfume of these unguents was indescribably soothing, and
gradually I found myself losing the feeling of excitement and distrust
which had hitherto possessed me. The cigarettes Pharos had given me on
the occasion that I had dined with him in Naples must have contained
something of a like nature, for the effect was similar in more than one
essential. I refer in particular to the sharpening of the wits, to the
feeling of peculiar physical enjoyment, and to the dulling of every
sense of fear.
It was just as well, perhaps, that I was in this frame of mind, for
though I did not know it, I was about to be put to a test that surpassed
in severity anything of which I could have dreamed.
Little by little a feeling of extreme lassitude was overtaking me; I
lost all care for my safety, and my only desire was to be allowed to
continue in the state of exquisite semiconsciousness to which I had now
been reduced. The figures of the men who continued to sprinkle the
essences upon me, and of the old man who stood at my feet, his arms
stretched above his head as if he were invoking the blessing of the gods
upon the sacrifice he was offering to them, faded farther and farther
into the rose-coloured mist before my eyes. How long an interval elapsed
before I heard the old man's voice addressing me again I cannot say. It
may have been a few seconds, it may have been hours; I only know that as
soon as I heard it I opened my eyes and looked about me. The attendants
had departed and we were alone together. He was still standing before me
gazing intently down at my face.
"Rise, son of an alien race," he said, "rise purified for the time of
thy earthly self, and fit to enter and stand in the presence of
Ammon-Ra!"
In response to his command I rose from the stone upon which I had been
lying. Strangely enough, however, I did so without perceptible exertion.
In my new state my body was as light as air, my brain without a cloud,
while the senses of hearing, of sight, of smell, and of touch, were each
abnormally acute.
Taking me by the hand, the old man led me from the room in which the
ceremony of anointing had taken place, along another passage, on either
side of which, as in the apartment we had just left, were a number of
shelves each containing a mummy case. Reaching the end of this passage,
he paused and extinguished the torch he carried, and then, still leading
me by the hand, entered another hall which was in total darkness. In my
new state, however, I experienced no sort of fear, nor was I conscious
of feeling any alarm as to my ultimate safety.
Having brought me to the place for which he was making, he dropped my
hand, and from the shuffling of his feet upon the stone pavement I knew
that he was moving away from me.
"Wait here and watch," he said, and his voice echoed and re-echoed in
that gloomy place. "For it was ordained from the first that this night
thou shouldst see the mysteries of the gods. Fear not, thou art in the
hands of the watcher of the world, the ever mighty Harmachis, who
sleepeth not day or night, nor hath rested since time began."
With this he departed, and I remained standing where he had put me,
watching and waiting for what should follow. To attempt to make you
understand the silence that prevailed would be a waste of time, nor can
I tell you how long it lasted. Under the influence of the mysterious
preparation to which I had been subjected, such things as time, fear and
curiosity had been eliminated from my being.
Suddenly, in the far distance, so small as to make it uncertain whether
it was only my fancy or not, a pin point of light attracted my
attention. It moved slowly to and fro with the regular and
evenly-balanced swing of a pendulum, and as it did so it grew larger and
more brilliant. Such was the fascination it possessed for me that I
could not take my eyes off it, and as I watched it everything grew
bright as noon-day. How I had been moved I know not, but to my amazement
I discovered that I was no longer in that subterranean room below the
temple, but was in the open air in broad daylight, and standing on the
same spot before the main pylon where Pharos and I had waited while the
man who had conducted us to the temple went off to give notice of our
arrival. There was, however, this difference, the temple, which I had
seen then was nothing more than a mass of ruins, now it was restored to
its pristine grandeur, and exceeded in beauty anything I could have
imagined. High into the cloudless sky above me rose the mighty pylons,
the walls of which were no longer bare and weather worn, but adorned
with brilliant coloured paintings. Before me, not covered with sand as
at present, but carefully tended and arranged with a view to enhancing
the already superb effect, was a broad and well-planned terrace from
which led a road lined on either side with the same stately kriosphinxes
that to-day lie headless and neglected on the sands. From this terrace
the waters of the Nile could be distinctly seen, with the steps, at
which the avenue I have just described terminated, leading down to them.
Away to the southwest rose the smaller Temple of Khunsi, and from it the
avenue of sphinxes which connected it with the Temple of Ammon two miles
away at Luxor. From the crowds that congregated round these mighty
edifices, and from the excitement which prevailed on every hand, it was
plain that some great festival was about to be celebrated. While I
watched the commencement of the procession made its appearance on the
farther side of the river, where state barges ornamented with much gold
and many brilliant colours were waiting to carry it across. On reaching
the steps it continued its march toward the temple. It was preceded by a
hundred dancing girls clad in white, and carrying timbrels in their
hands. Behind them was a priest bearing the two books of Hermes, one
containing hymns in honour of the gods, and the other precepts relating
to the life of the King. Next came the Royal Astrologer bearing the
measure of Time, the hour-glass and the Phoenix. Then the King's
Scribe, carrying the materials of his craft. Following him were more
women playing on single and double pipes, harps, and flutes, and after
the musicians the Stolistes, with the sign of Justice and the cup of
Libation. Next walked twelve servants of the temple, headed by the Chief
Priest, clad in his robes of leopard skins, after whom marched a troop
of soldiers with the sun glittering on their armour and accoutrements.
Behind, the runners were carrying white staves in their hand, and after
them fifty singing girls, strewing flowers of all colours upon the path.
Then, escorted by his bodyguard, the Royal Arms bearers, and seated upon
his throne of state, which again was borne upon the shoulders of the
chief eight nobles of the land, and had above it a magnificent canopy,
was Pharaoh himself, dressed in his robes of state and carrying his
sceptre and the flagellum of Osiris in either hand. Behind him were his
fan bearers, and by his side a man whom, in spite of his rich dress, I
recognised as soon as my eyes fell upon him. He was none other than the
servant whom Pharaoh delighted to honour, his favourite, Ptahmes, son of
Netruhotep, Chief of the Magicians, and Lord of the North and South.
Deformed as he was, he walked with a proud step, carrying himself like
one who knows that his position is assured. Following Pharaoh were his
favourite generals, then another detachment of soldiers, still more
priests, musicians, and dancing girls, and last of all a choir robed in
white, and numbering several hundred voices. If you can picture the blue
sky overhead, the sunshine, the mighty pylons and temples, the palm
trees, the glittering procession, the gorgeous uniforms, the avenues of
kriosphinxes, and the waters of the Nile showing in the background, you
will have some notion of the scene I have attempted to portray.
Reaching the main pylon of the temple, the dancing girls, musicians and
soldiers drew back on either side, and Pharaoh, still borne upon the
shoulders of his courtiers, and accompanied by his favourite magician,
entered the sacred building and was lost to view.
He had no sooner disappeared than the whole scene vanished, and once
more I found myself standing in the darkness. It was only for a few
moments, however. Then the globule of light which had first attracted my
attention reappeared. Again it swung before my eyes and again I suddenly
found myself in the open air. Now, however, it was nighttime. As on the
previous occasion, I stood before the main pylon of the temple. This
time, however, there was no crowd, no brilliant procession, no joyous
music. Heavy clouds covered the sky, and at intervals the sound of
sullen thunder came across the sands from the west. A cold wind sighed
round the corners of the temple and added to the prevailing dreariness.
It was close upon midnight, and I could not help feeling that something
terrible was about to happen. Nor was I disappointed. Even as I waited a
small procession crossed the Nile and made its way, just as the other
had done, up the avenue of kriosphinxes. Unlike the first, however, this
consisted of but four men, or to be exact, of five, since one was being
carried on a bier. Making no more noise than was necessary, they
conveyed their burden up the same well-kept roadway and approached the
temple. From where I stood I was able to catch a glimpse of the dead
man, for dead he certainly was. To my surprise he was none other than
Ptahmes. Not, however, the Ptahmes of the last vision. Now he was old
and poorly clad, and a very different creature from the man who had
walked so confidently beside Pharaoh's litter on the occasion of the
last procession.
Knowing as I did the history of his downfall, I was easily able to put
two and two together and to ascribe a reason for what I saw. He had been
in hiding to escape the wrath of Pharaoh, and now he was dead, and his
friends among the priests of Ammon were bringing him by stealth to the
temple to prepare his body for the tomb. Once more the scene vanished
and I stood in darkness. Then, as before, the light reappeared, and with
it still another picture.
On this occasion also it was night, and we were in the desert. The same
small party I had seen carrying the dead man before was now making its
way toward a range of hills. High up on a rocky spur a tomb had been
prepared, and to it the body of the man, once so powerful and now fallen
so low, was being conveyed. Unseen by the bearers, I followed and
entered the chamber of death. In front was the Chief Priest, a venerable
man, but to my surprise without his leopard skin dress. The mummy was
placed in position without ceremony of any kind. Even the most simple
funerary rites were omitted. No sorrowing relatives made an oblation
before it, no scroll of his life was read. Cut off from the world,
buried by stealth, he was left to take the long rest in an unhallowed
tomb from which my own father, three thousand years later, was destined
to remove his body. Then, like the others, this scene also vanished, and
once more I found myself standing in the dark hall.
"Thou hast seen the splendour and the degradation of the man Ptahmes,"
said the deep voice of the old man who had warned me not to be afraid.
"How he rose and how he fell. Thou hast seen how the mortal body of him
who was once so mighty that he stood before Pharaoh unafraid, was buried
by night, having been forbidden to cross the sacred Lake of the Dead.
For more than three thousand years, by thy calculation, that body has
rested in an unconsecrated tomb, it has been carried to a far country,
and throughout that time his soul has known no peace. But the gods are
not vengeful for ever, and it is decreed that by thy hand, inasmuch as
thou art not of his country or of his blood, he shall find rest at last.
Follow me, for there is much for thee to see."
Leading the way across the large hall, he conducted me down another
flight of steps into yet another hall, larger than any I had yet seen,
the walls of which were covered with frescoes, in every case having some
connection with the services rendered to the dead. On a stone slab in
the centre of this great place was the mummy case which had for so many
years stood in the alcove of my studio, and which was undoubtedly the
cause of my being where I now was. I looked again and could scarcely
believe my eyes, for there, seated at its head, gazing from the old man
to myself, was the monkey Pehtes, with an expression of terror upon his
wizened little face.
I must leave you to imagine what sort of effect the solemnity of this
great hall, the solitary mummy case lying in the centre, and the
frightened little monkey seated at its head had upon me.
At a signal from my companion the men who had anointed me on my arrival
in this ghostly place made their appearance, but whence I could not
discover. Lifting the lid of the case, despite the monkey's almost human
protests, they withdrew the body, swaddled up as it was, and laid it
upon the table. One by one the cloths were removed until the naked flesh
(if flesh it could be called) lay exposed to view. To the best of my
belief it had never seen the light, certainly not in my time, since the
day, so many thousand years before, when it had been prepared for the
tomb. The effect it had upon me was almost overwhelming. My guide,
however, permitted no sign of emotion to escape him. When everything had
been removed the men who had done the work withdrew as silently as they
had come, and we three were left alone together.
"Draw near," said the old man solemnly, "and if thou wouldst lose
conceit in thy strength, and learn how feeble a thing is man, gaze upon
the form of him who lies before you. Here on this stone is all that is
left of Ptahmes, the son of Netruhotep, Magician to Pharaoh, and chief
of the Prophets of the North and South."
I drew near and looked upon the mummified remains. Dried up and brown as
they were, the face was still distinctly recognisable, and as I gazed I
sprang back with a cry of horror and astonishment. Believe it or not as
you please, but what I saw there was none other than the face of Pharos.
The likeness was unmistakable. There could be no sort of doubt about it.
I brushed my hand across my eyes to find out if I were dreaming. But no,
when I looked again the body was still there. And yet it seemed so
utterly impossible, so unheard of, that the man stretched out before me
could be he whom I had first seen at the foot of Cleopatra's Needle, at
the Academy, in Lady Medenham's drawing-room, and with whom I had dined
at Naples after our interview at Pompeii. And as I looked, as if any
further proof were wanting, the monkey, with a little cry, sprang upon
the dead man and snuggled himself down beside him.
Approaching the foot of the slab, the old man addressed the recumbent
figure.
"Open thine eyes, Ptahmes, son of Netruhotep," he said, "and listen to
the words that I shall speak to thee. In the day of thy power, when yet
thou didst walk upon the earth, thou didst sin against Ra and against
the mighty ones, the thirty-seven gods. Know now that it is given thee
for thy salvation to do the work which has been decreed against the
peoples upon whom their wrath has fallen. Be strong, O Ptahmes! for the
means are given thee, and if thou dost obey thou shalt rest in peace.
Wanderer of the centuries, who cometh out of the dusk, and whose birth
is from the house of death, thou wast old and art born again. Through
all the time that has been thou hast waited for this day. In the name,
therefore, of the great gods Osiris and Nephthys, I bid thee rise from
thy long rest and go out into the world, but be it ever remembered by
thee that if thou usest this power to thy own advantage or failest even
by as much as one single particular in the trust reposed in thee, then
thou art lost, not for to-day, not for to-morrow, but for all time. In
the tomb from whence it was stolen thy body shall remain until the work
which is appointed thee is done. Then shalt thou return and be at peace
for ever. Rise, Ptahmes, rise and depart!"
As he said this the monkey sprang up from the dead man's side with a
little cry and beat wildly in the air with his hands. Then it was as if
something snapped, my body became deadly cold, and with a great shiver I
awoke (if, as I can scarcely believe, I had been sleeping before) to
find myself sitting on the same block of stone in the great Hypostile
Hall where Pharos had left me many hours before. The first pale light of
dawn could be seen through the broken columns to the east. The air was
bitterly cold, and my body ached all over as if, which was very likely,
I had caught a chill. Only a few paces distant, seated on the ground,
their faces hidden in their folded arms, were the two Arabs who had
accompanied us from Luxor. I rose to my feet and stamped upon the ground
in the hope of imparting a little warmth to my stiffened limbs. Could I
have fallen asleep while I waited for Pharos, and if so, had I dreamed
all the strange things that I have described in this chapter? I
discarded the notion as impossible, and yet what other explanation had I
to offer? I thought of the secret passage beneath the stone, and which
led to the vaults below. Remembering as I did the direction in which the
old man had proceeded in order to reach it, I determined to search for
it. If only I could find the place I should be able to set all doubt on
the subject at rest for good and all. I according crossed the great
hall, which was now as light as day, and searched the place which I
considered most likely to contain the stone in question. But though I
gave it the most minute scrutiny for upwards of a quarter of an hour, no
sign could I discover. All the time I was becoming more and more
convinced of one thing, and that was the fact that I was unmistakably
ill. My head and bones ached, while my left arm, which had never yet
lost the small purple mark which I had noticed the morning after my
adventure at the Pyramids, seemed to be swelling perceptibly and
throbbed from shoulder to wrist. Unable to find the stone, and still
more unable to make head or tail of all that had happened in the night,
I returned to my former seat. One of the Arabs, the man who had boarded
the steamer on our arrival the previous afternoon, rose to his feet and
looked about him, yawning heavily as he did so. He, at least, I thought,
would be able to tell me if I had slept all night in the same place. I
put the question to him, only to receive his solemn assurance that I had
not left their side ever since I had entered the ruins. The man's
demeanour was so sincere, that I had no reason to suppose that he was
not telling the truth. I accordingly seated myself again and devoutly
wished I were back with Valerie on board the steamer.
A nice trick Pharos had played me in bringing me out to spend the night
catching cold in these ruins. I resolved to let him know my opinion of
his conduct at the earliest opportunity. But if I had gone to sleep on
the stone, where had he been all night, and why had he not permitted me
to assist in the burial of Ptahmes according to agreement? What was more
important still, when did he intend putting in an appearance again? I
had half made up my mind to set off for Luxor on my own account, in the
hope of being able to discover an English doctor, from whom I could
obtain some medicine and find out the nature of the ailment from which I
was suffering. I was, however, spared the trouble of doing this, for
just as my patience was becoming exhausted a noise behind me made me
turn round, and I saw Pharos coming toward me. It struck me that his
step was more active than I had yet seen it, and I noticed the pathetic
little face of the monkey, Pehtes, peeping out from the shelter of his
heavy coat.
"Come," he said briskly, "let us be going. You look cold, my dear
Forrester, and if I am not mistaken, you are not feeling very well. Give
me your hand."
I did as he ordered me. If, however, my hand was cold, his was like ice.
"I thought as much," he said; "you are suffering from a mild attack of
Egyptian fever. Fortunately, however, that can soon be set right."
I followed him through the main pylon to the place where we had
dismounted from our camels the night before. The patient beasts were
still there just as we had left them.
"Mount," said Pharos, "and let us return with all speed to the steamer."
I did as he desired, and we accordingly set off. I noticed, however,
that on the return journey we did not follow the same route as that
which had brought us to the temple. By this time, however, I was feeling
too ill to protest or to care very much where we went.
"We are nearly there," said Pharos. "Keep up your heart. In less than
ten minutes you will be in bed and on the high road to recovery."
"But this is not the way to Luxor," I said feebly, clinging to the
pommel of my saddle as I spoke and looking with aching eyes across the
dreary stretch of sand.
"We are not going to Luxor," Pharos replied. "I am taking you to a place
where I can look after you myself, and where there will be no chance of
any meddlesome European doctors interfering with my course of
treatment."
The ten minutes he had predicted seemed like centuries, and, had I been
asked, I should have declared that at least two hours elapsed between
our leaving the Temple of Ammon and our arrival at our destination.
During that time my agony was well nigh unbearable. My throat was
swelling and I felt as if I were suffocating. My limbs quivered as
though they had been stricken with the palsy, and the entire landscape
was blotted out by a red mist as thick as blood.
More dead than alive, I accommodated myself to the shuffling tread of
the camel as best I could, and when at last I heard Pharos say in
Arabic, "It is here; bid the beast lie down," my last ounce of strength
departed and I lost consciousness.
How long I remained in this state I had no idea at the time, but when I
recovered my senses again I found myself lying in an Arab tent, upon a
rough bed made up upon the sand. I was as weak as a kitten, and when I
looked at my hand as it lay upon the rough blanket I scarcely recognised
it, so white and emaciated was it. Not being able to understand the
reason of my present location, I raised myself on my elbow and looked
out under the flap of the tent. All I could see there, however, was
desert sand, a half-starved dog prowling about in the foreground in
search of something to eat, and a group of palm trees upon the far
horizon. While I was thus investigating my surroundings the same Arab
who had assured me that I had slept all night on the block of stone in
the temple made his appearance with a bowl of broth which he gave to me,
putting his arm round me and assisting me to sit up while I drank it. I
questioned him as to where I was and how long I had been there, but he
only shook his head, saying that he could tell me nothing. The broth,
however, did me good, more good than any information could have done,
and after he had left me I laid myself down and in a few moments was
asleep again. When I woke it was late in the afternoon and the sun was
sinking behind the palm trees to which I referred just now. As it
disappeared Pharos entered the tent and expressed his delight at finding
me conscious once more. I put the same questions to him that I had asked
the Arab, and found that he was inclined to be somewhat more
communicative.
"You have now been ill three days," he said, "so ill, indeed, that I
dared not move you. Now, however, that you have got your senses back,
you will make rapid progress. I can assure you I shall not be sorry, for
events have occurred which necessitate my immediate return to Europe.
You on your part, I presume, will not regret saying farewell to Egypt?"
"I would leave to-day, if such a thing were possible," I answered. "Weak
as I am I think I could find strength enough for that. Indeed, I feel
stronger already, and as a proof of it my appetite is returning. Where
is the Arab who brought me my broth this morning?"
"Dead," said Pharos laconically. "He held you in his arms and died two
hours afterward. They've no stamina, these Arabs, the least thing kills
them. But you need have no fear. You have passed the critical point and
your recovery is certain."
But I scarcely heard him. "Dead! dead!" I was saying over and over again
to myself as if I did not understand it. "Surely the man cannot be
dead?" He had died through helping me. What then was this terrible
disease of which I had been the victim?