The path led, for some time, through the same sort of narrow windings as
those which I had encountered in descending the stair‐way; and at length
opened, in a similar manner, into a straight and steep gallery, along each
side of which stood, closely ranged and upright, a file of lifeless
bodies, whose glassy eyes threw a preternatural glare upon me as I passed.
Arrived at the end of this gallery, I found my hopes a second time vanish.
The path, I perceived, extended no further. The only object that I could
discern, by the glimmering of my lamp, which now, every minute, burned
fainter and fainter, was the mouth of a huge well, that lay gaping before
me—a reservoir of darkness, black and unfathomable. It now crossed my
memory that I had heard of such wells, as being used occasionally for
passages by the Priests. Leaning down, therefore, over the edge, I looked
anxiously within, to discover whether it was possible to descend into the
chasm; but the sides were hard and smooth as glass, being varnished all
over with that dark pitch, which the Dead Sea throws out on its slimy
shore.
After a more attentive scrutiny, however, I observed, at the depth of a
few feet, a sort of iron step, projecting dimly from the side, and, below
it, another, which, though hardly perceptible, was just sufficient to
encourage an adventurous foot to the trial. Though all hope of tracing the
young Priestess was at an end,—it being impossible that female foot should
have dared this descent,—yet, as I had so far engaged in the adventure,
and there was, at least, a mystery to be unravelled, I determined, at all
hazards, to explore the chasm. Placing my lamp (which was hollowed at the
bottom, so as to fit like a helmet) firmly on my head, and having thus
both hands at liberty for exertion, I set my foot cautiously on the iron
step, and descended into the well.
I found the same footing, at regular intervals, to a considerable depth;
and had already counted near a hundred of these steps, when the ladder
altogether ceased, and I could descend no farther. In vain did I stretch
down my foot in search of support—the hard, slippery sides were all that
it encountered. At length, stooping my head, so as to let the light fall
below, I observed an opening or window directly above the step on which I
stood, and, taking for granted that the way must lie in that direction,
with some little difficulty clambered through the aperture.
I now found myself on a rude and narrow stair‐way, the steps of which were
cut out of the living rock, and wound spirally downward in the same
direction as the well. Almost dizzy with the descent, which seemed as if
it would never end, I, at last, reached the bottom, where a pair of massy
iron gates closed directly across my path, as if to forbid any further
progress. Massy, however, and gigantic as they were, I found, to my
surprise, that the hand of an infant might have opened them with ease—so
readily did their great folds give way to my touch,
“Light as a lime‐bush, that receives
Some wandering bird among its leaves.”
No sooner, however, had I passed through, than the din, with which the
gates clashed together again, was such as might have awakened death
itself. It seemed as if every echo, throughout that vast, subterranean
world, from the Catacombs of Alexandria to Thebes’s Valley of Kings, had
caught up and repeated the thundering sound.
Startled, however, as I was, not even this supernatural clangour could
divert my attention from the light that now broke upon me—soft, warm, and
welcome as are the stars of his own South to the mariner who has been
wandering through the seas of the north. Looking for the source of this
splendour, I saw, through an archway opposite, a long illuminated alley,
stretching away as far as the eye could reach, and fenced, on one side,
with thickets of odoriferous shrubs, while, along the other, extended a
line of lofty arcades, from which the light, that filled the whole area,
issued. As soon, too, as the din of the deep echoes had subsided, there
stole gradually on my ear a strain of choral music, which appeared to
come, mellowed and sweetened in its passage, through many a spacious hall
within those shining arcades. Among the voices I could distinguish some
female tones, towering high and clear over all the rest, and forming the
spire, as it were, into which the harmony tapered, as it rose.
So excited was my fancy by this sudden enchantment, that—though never had
I caught a sound from the young Egyptian’s lips,—I yet persuaded myself
that the voice I now heard was hers, sounding highest and most heavenly of
all that choir, and calling to me, like a distant spirit out of its
sphere. Animated by this thought, I flew forward to the archway, but
found, to my mortification, that it was guarded by a trellis‐work, whose
bars, though invisible at a distance, resisted all my efforts to force
them.
While occupied in these ineffectual struggles, I perceived, to the left of
the archway, a dark, cavernous opening, which seemed to lead in a
direction parallel to the lighted arcades. Notwithstanding my impatience,
however, the aspect of this passage, as I looked shudderingly into it,
chilled my very blood. It was not so much darkness, as a sort of livid and
ghastly twilight, from which a damp, like that of death‐vaults, exhaled,
and through which, if my eyes did not deceive me, pale, phantom‐like
shapes were, at that very moment, hovering.
Looking anxiously round, to discover some less formidable outlet, I saw,
over the vast folding‐gates through which I had just passed, a blue,
tremulous flame, which, after playing for a few seconds over the dark
ground of the pediment, settled gradually into characters of light, and
formed the following words:—
You, who would try
Yon terrible track,
To live, or to die,
But ne’er to look back—
You, who aspire
To be purified there,
By the terrors of Fire,
Of Water, and Air,—
If danger, and pain,
And death you despise,
On—for again
Into light you shall rise;
Rise into light
With that Secret Divine,
Now shrouded from sight
By the Veils of the Shrine!