THE DEPARTURE FROM TANIS
That same afternoon we left for Men-ne-fer. Tanis perforce had to
put aside her bridal finery and plunge herself into mourning. All day
the scribes of the temple ran up and down the streets, shouting at the
top of their voices that the holy Pharaoh was dead; that he had
succumbed to his many ailments in the arms of the priests of Isis, who
had helped to soothe his dying moments. His mother, broken down with
grief, could not be persuaded to leave his lifeless body, and would
remain in Tanis until such time as, the elaborate process of embalming
being completed, the dead Pharaoh would be ready to be conveyed to
Men-ne-fer, for the solemn obsequies.
Hugh had tacitly allowed this version of the Pharaoh’s death to be
spread among the people. He had no wish to publicly accuse her who
already was his wife in name, and hand her over to the cruel justice
of her country. No doubt she suffered enough. Hugh would not see her,
and she had been told that he knew of her crime.
When, having taken farewell of lovely Tanis, our boat began to glide
slowly along the canal, it seemed to both of us that on the height
where stood the royal palace we saw a figure swathed in black, sharply
defined against the white background, stretching out its arms
entreatingly towards our fast disappearing boat.
Tanis in sorrow had not dared to speed our departure with shouts of
farewell, nor did the snow-white city, coquettish in her perpetual
bridal attire, know that the son of Ra was leaving her never to
return.
Hugh had not hesitated a moment. He longed to get away, and I confess
that I viewed the prospect of leaving this strange exotic land for
ever without the slightest pang.
“We will make our own terms with Ur-tasen,” said Hugh; “and I promise
you our return journey will not be attended with any privations.”
“You are glad to go?” I asked.
“Very glad,” he replied earnestly. “She will be happy… and we shall
both forget.”
As long as we could, we watched the white city gradually growing more
hazy and dim, until at last a turn in the canal, a thick clump of
papyrus grass hid it entirely from our view; even then it seemed to me
that the echo from sistrum and harp, the strange songs of the
priestesses of Isis, hovered for some time in the air.
The journey from Tanis to Men-ne-fer direct was a long one. We spent
two nights beneath the canopy of our boat, lulled to sleep by the
rhythmic clap of the oars and the monotonous lullabies sung by the
boatmen. The third night we passed before the palace of Neit-akrit.
There was no moon, and it was very dark all around; the marble palace
hardly appeared as an outline against the heavy sky, only the gigantic
sphinxes seemed to frown down upon us in the gloom. A warm breeze was
in the air, and as the boat glided swiftly past the great fuchsia
trees gave forth a long and melancholy sigh. We neither of us spoke;
but by the dim light of the lamp at the poop I could see that, for a
long time, Hugh watched that ghostlike palace, those fuchsia trees,
whose snow-white walls, within which he had buried his earthly
paradise.
We neared Men-ne-fer towards the early morning, and, after a rest in
the palace, we went to meet Ur-tasen in the temple of Ra.
He looked to me very much aged, and anxiety had traced many more lines
on his face. He met Hugh very eagerly, but knelt humbly on the floor,
waiting for him to speak.
“Where is Princess Neit-akrit?” asked Hugh.
“To-night her boat will have reached her palace, where she has decided
to remain until the obsequies of the dead Pharaoh, when she will come
to Men-ne-fer,” replied the high priest, humbly, and almost in a
whisper.
“And those priests who dared lay hands upon her person?”
“They await her pardon in the vault beneath the temple of Isis. But I
do not doubt that Neit-akrit will grant it.”
Hugh breathed a sigh of relief. There was no doubt that Ur-tasen had
not even thought of defiance; moreover, we gathered from this that,
though he feared and hated the beloved of the gods, he did not
distrust him.
“What dost thou know of the land which lies beyond the gates of Kamt?”
asked Hugh, abruptly, after a slight pause, during which he had
scanned with a scornful frown the figure of the high priest kneeling
at his feet.
“Nay, I know nothing, oh, beloved of the gods. I care not to know,
whatever in my dreams I may at times have guessed. Never hath foot of
man crossed the valley of death and lived.”
“Yet I came. Dost know from whence?”
“Thou saidst it: from the foot of the throne of the gods.”
“Ay. And thither will I return, taking with me the hearts of the
people of Kamt. Now listen to my commands, and ’twere well for thee
that thou seest that they are implicitly obeyed. From among thy
priests choose those whom thou wouldst trust, as thou dost trust
thyself, who, like thee, know that beyond the valley of death there
lies some other land, and do thou tell them that I would visit it.
Then bid them secure eight sturdy oxen and two light but roomy carts,
to each of which four oxen should be yoked. These beasts and carts
must be lowered through the gate of Kamt into the valley of death. The
priests whom thou wilt have chosen as being silent and discreet shall
load the carts. In one they shall place sixty gourds, each containing
two measures of water, and two gourds, each containing three measures
of wine; two sacks of dried dates and figs, and five jars of dried
fish and goose’s flesh; the other cart must be heaped with oil cakes,
barley and dried grass, in as great a quantity as the four oxen can
bear quite easily. When the carts are ready and loaded and the oxen
put to, bid thy priests choose a healthy cow and tether her to one of
the carts. At dawn thou shalt accompany me and my counsellor to the
gates of Kamt, and thou shalt cause thyself to be lowered into the
valley of death, before I myself do follow thee. Thou shalt come with
me across the wilderness as far as the Rock of Anubis, against which,
if thou hast in any way disobeyed me, or played me false, I will chain
thee and bind thee, and leave thee to starve slowly amidst the
carrion. But if thou hast punctually obeyed my commands, thou canst
then return: thy priests, in the meanwhile, can keep a watch for
thee.”
The high priest made no comment, but merely asked quietly:
“Are these all thy commands, oh, beloved of the gods?”
“All, as regards my journey hence. Before I leave thou shalt proclaim
from the foot of the altar of thy gods that I, their emissary, have
returned from whence I came, that my mission among the people of Kamt
is fulfilled, for I came by the will of Ra himself to infuse mercy
into their laws. No man or woman shall in future be cast out living
from Kamt, to die of starvation in the wilderness; no man or woman
shall, for any sin or crime, suffer torture or mutilation. This thou
shalt proclaim from the inner sanctuary of Ra, even while I, ready to
go upon my journey, will listen from the outer precincts, which lead
to the gates of Kamt, and hear that thou dost do my bidding. Then,
when thou hast done that, thou shalt tell the people that I enjoin
them, as a parting wish, to honour and reverence Neit-akrit, their
Queen, whom Ra himself, by my mouth, hath decreed shall rule over them
as long as she lives whether she take a husband or no. She shall be
the sole and mighty Pharaoh, and on her head alone shall rest the
double crown of Kamt.”
Ur-tasen’s face brightened up. It was obvious that Hugh need have no
fear that this parting injunction of his should not be implicitly
obeyed. The high priest of Ra, in spite of all, was still under the
magic spell of beautiful Neit-akrit.
There was nothing more to be said, and we left the temple of Ra to
have a final look at the land which we had found so fair.
I was glad to leave it; the gilded cage had somehow become an
intolerable prison, but… it was a parting, and all partings are sad.
The people of Men-ne-fer did not know that their idol was leaving
them; though the death of the Pharaoh had thrown outward gloom over
the city, they made no attempt to restrain their enthusiasm, their
delight in having him in their midst again, who was beloved of the
gods.
The picture of that day in Kamt is one of the most vivid in my memory.
The sun was dazzlingly bright, and Men-ne-fer--gorgeous Men-ne-fer
with its rose-tinted palaces, its temples and gardens and market
squares--displayed before our saddened eyes all the splendours of its
beauty. The royal palace, on the steps of which the pale pink
flamingoes stalked lazily in the heat of the mid-day sun, the broad
canal, each side of which the marble palaces rose in a gorgeous line,
the market, where gigantic piles of pomegranates threw a brilliant
note of vivid orange and red against the blue and the green of water
and foliage, and above all the silent and immense judgment hall, with
its great marble throne, from whence it seemed to me that I could
still hear the harsh, sarcastic laughter of the dead Pharaoh and the
screeching of his apes.
Once or twice during that day I saw Hugh’s eyes turned with
unutterable longing towards the East, beyond the great canal where, in
the midst of fuchsia groves, stood that white palace, the terrace with
its turquoise blue canopy and its marble floors, on which Sen-tur
lazily chased the ibis up and down.
He had made up his mind that he would not see her again.… The parting
perhaps would be easier to bear.… There was no doubt that it was all
for the best.… She would be happy again when she knew that he had gone
away for ever into the land of dreams.