Mr. Stanhope, with an air of great relief—which they all took to be assumed for a joke—handed it to her.
“It will bring you luck—eventually,” he said; “but you may have some bad luck just at first, before it does so. Are you nervous?”
“No,” she said, “not a bit; I don’t believe in things.”
She wrapped the foot up in her lace handkerchief and put it in her bag, and presently the party broke up. I gathered afterwards from her own lips all that had happened.
Miss Westwood arrived home with the mummy’s foot in her bag, and as she was our guest I was sitting up for her. She took it out of her bag and showed it to me at once— much to my horror, for I am by no means in favour of such “mascots.” To begin with, I think that to carry portions of an embalmed body about, however long ago they may have been entombed, is not only irreverent, but is downright desecration. Also, because I have known queer things about mummies and mummy influence; and the foot, though I examined it at first with great interest, repulsed me terribly.
“Do take it upstairs, if you must keep it,” I said, “and never let me see it again while you are in the house.”
Miss Westwood laughed and joked, and carried off the mummy’s foot, which she put in a bookcase in her bedroom, which was on the floor above mine, making a niche for it by moving some of the books.
The next night, or rather early morning, she woke up suddenly with the feeling that there was some Presence in the room. It was, she described later, as if there was some one quite close to the bed, but she saw absolutely nothing. She sat up in bed, more terrified than she had ever been in her life, and instinctively called out, but not loudly. Her impression was, that as she called out there was no longer any cause for alarm, because the Presence was no longer there. The mummy’s foot never entered her thoughts; in fact, she had forgotten its very existence, as she was not in the least bit superstitious.
So strongly did the incident fix itself on her mind that the first words she said to me when she came down to breakfast were, “I had such a strange experience in the night—it was just as if there was some one in my room. By the by, did you come in while I was asleep for anything, and go out quietly?”
These words made me feel very uncomfortable, for I had had exactly the same experience as she had herself, and related it to her; and then we compared notes and found that it had been at exactly the same hour, which was proved in each case by the church clock striking four. So disturbed was our rest for the fortnight that the mummy’s foot remained in the house that we both longed to get rid of it. Not only were we awakened during the night with the eerie feeling that there was Somebody or Something moving quite close to us, but at all hours of the day there would come stealing over the house the horror of an invisible malign Presence, which terrified us even more than anything more tangible would have done. The impression was like “darkness that can be felt”; we saw nothing, and yet trembled with fear. “All imagination!” the sceptic will say; but it must be remembered that Miss Westwood, at any rate, was both sceptical and unimaginative, and it was only after several days that she suggested “it really must be something to do with the mummy’s foot.”
She thereupon decided not to keep it, and disposed of it as quickly as she could.
After that we had peace, and a cloud seemed lifted from the house.
* * * *
A few months later, Miss Westwood and I were both at a supper party at a friend’s house at Hampstead, and met Mr. Stanhope, who also happened to be there, with his wife. After greeting him, Miss Westwood said, “Well, it was kind of you to give me that mummy’s foot; it is perfectly horrid, and has had a dreadful effect on us all.”
“I told you it might bring you some bad luck before it brought you good,” he said, “and if you had kept it I think it would have been lucky. But now you have sent it away I may as well tell you that there was something uncanny about it; so much so that I can say candidly that I was delighted when you accepted it that night at the Moulin d’Or.
“I stole the foot, as I told you, from an ancient tomb in Egypt, and it really is the foot of a dancer, for her history was told in the coloured inscription on the inside of the coffin. I brought it back with me to England because it was a really beautiful specimen, and I kept it with me because I rather like such things. I was not married then, and was living in rooms at Kensington. My landlady was a dear old soul, friendly and garrulous, and I had often stayed with her before. One evening last winter, when she was bringing up my dinner, she was crying, and in answer to my questions told me that she was very worried about one of her children, whom she was sure was light-headed and must be ill or was going crazy. The child, she said, kept saying she saw a black naked foot peeping in and out from under the curtain of the kitchen dresser downstairs. She could talk of nothing else, and was simply terrified.
“‘Well, that is extraordinary,’ I said; ‘bring her up here after dinner and let me talk to her.’
“‘Yes, I will,’ said my landlady.
“After she had left the room I unwrapped the mummy’s foot and placed it on the mantelpiece in full view. Hitherto I had kept it locked away in a box out of sight.
“The landlady presently brought up the child, a pretty little girl of about three or four years old. I did not mention what her mother had told me, but talked to her about dolls and kittens and various other things children like. As we were chatting she looked with childish curiosity about my’ room, and suddenly, as her eyes fell on the mantelpiece, she screamed out—
“‘Mother! mother! there’s the foot—there’s the foot!’ and began howling and screaming as if she saw a ghost.
“After that I felt it was time to part with it, for it was something more than a bit of a white elephant; for the child stuck to her guns, and described exactly how the foot used to appear and disappear under the curtain that hung round the lower part of the kitchen dresser, as if it was dancing. The way she told it—in simple, childish words—was sufficiently convincing, one could not but believe her; and she could never have heard of the foot at all, for I had kept it carefully locked up.
“When I met you at the Moulin d’Or I was wondering what I should do with it. By a sudden inspiration I made up my mind to offer it round as a mascot. Perhaps it was not a very considerate thing to do, after the child’s story, but these things do affect different people in different ways, and you might have experienced nothing at all. What did you experience, by the way? I am most curious to hear.”
When we told him, he said he was glad for our sakes we had parted with it. “All the same,” he added, “I wish I had left the thing safe in its coffin, instead of letting it go loose in the world. These things can be very devilish. It will be a lesson to me next time.”
LOST IN A PYRAMID, OR THE MUMMY’S CURSE, by Louisa May Alcott
CHAPTER I
“And what are these, Paul?” asked Evelyn, opening a tarnished gold box and examining its contents curiously.
“Seeds of some unknown Egyptian plant,” replied Forsyth, with a sudden shadow on his dark face, as he looked down at the three scarlet grains lying in the white hand lifted to him.
“Where did you get them?” asked the girl.
“That is a weird story, which will only haunt you if I tell it,” said Forsyth, with an absent expression that strongly excited the girl’s curiosity.
“Please tell it, I like weird tales, and they never trouble me. Ah, do tell it; your stories are always so interesting,” she cried, looking up with such a pretty blending of entreaty and command in her charming face, that refusal was impossible.
“You’ll be sorry for it, and so shall I, perhaps; I warn you beforehand, that harm is foretold to the possessor of those mysterious seeds,” said Forsyth, smiling, even while he knit his black brows, and regarded the blooming creature before him with a fond yet foreboding glance.
“Tell on, I’m not afraid of these pretty atoms,” she answered, with an imperious nod.
“To hear is to obey. Let me read the facts, and then I will begin,” returned Forsyth, pacing to and fro with the far-off look of one who turns the pages of the past.
Evelyn watched him a moment, and then returned to her work, or play, rather, for the task seemed well suited to the vivacious little creature, half-child, half-woman.
“While in Egypt,” commenced Forsyth, slowly, “I went one day with my guide and Professor Niles, to explore the Cheops. Niles had a mania for antiquities of all sorts, and forgot time, danger and fatigue in the ardor of his pursuit. We rummaged up and down the narrow passages, half choked with dust and close air; reading inscriptions on the walls, stumbling over shattered mummy-cases, or coming face to face with some shriveled specimen perched like a hobgoblin on the little shelves where the dead used to be stowed away for ages. I was desperately tired after a few hours of it, and begged the professor to return. But he was bent on exploring certain places, and would not desist. We had but one guide, so I was forced to stay; but Jumal, my man, seeing how weary I was, proposed to us to rest in one of the larger passages, while he went to procure another guide for Niles. We consented, and assuring us that we were perfectly safe, if we did not quit the spot, Jumal left us, promising to return speedily. The professor sat down to take notes of his researches, and stretching my self on the soft sand, I fell asleep.
“I was roused by that indescribable thrill which instinctively warns us of danger, and springing up, I found myself alone. One torch burned faintly where Jumal had struck it, but Niles and the other light were gone. A dreadful sense of loneliness oppressed me for a moment; then I collected myself and looked well about me. A bit of paper was pinned to my hat, which lay near me, and on it, in the professor’s writing were these words:
“‘I’ve gone back a little to refresh my memory on certain points. Don’t follow me till Jumal comes. I can find my way back to you, for I have a clue. Sleep well, and dream gloriously of the Pharaohs. N N.’
“I laughed at first over the old enthusiast, then felt anxious then restless, and finally resolved to follow him, for I discovered a strong cord fastened to a fallen stone, and knew that this was the clue he spoke of. Leaving a line for Jumal, I took my torch and retraced my steps, following the cord along the winding ways. I often shouted, but received no reply, and pressed on, hoping at each turn to see the old man poring over some musty relic of antiquity. Suddenly the cord ended, and lowering my torch, I saw that the footsteps had gone on.
“‘Rash fellow, he’ll lose himself, to a certainty,’ I thought, really alarmed now.
“As I paused, a faint call reached me, and I answered it, waited, shouted again, and a still fainter echo replied.
“Niles was evidently going on, misled by the reverberations of the low passages. No time was to be lost, and, forgetting myself, I stuck my torch in the deep sand to guide me back to the clue, and ran down the straight path before me, whooping like a madman as I went. I did not mean to lose sight of the light, but in my eagerness to find Niles I turned from the main passage, and, guided by his voice, hastened on. His torch soon gladdened my eyes, and the clutch of his trembling hands told me what agony he had suffered.
“‘Let us get out of this horrible place at once,’ he said, wiping the great drops off his forehead.
“‘Come, we’re not far from the clue. I can soon reach it, and then we are safe’; but as I spoke, a chill passed over me, for a perfect labyrinth of narrow paths lay before us.
“Trying to guide myself by such land-marks as I had observed in my hasty passage, I followed the tracks in the sand till I fancied we must be near my light. No glimmer appeared, however, and kneeling down to examine the footprints nearer, I discovered, to my dismay, that I had been following the wrong ones, for among those marked by a deep boot-heel, were prints of bare feet; we had had no guide there, and Jumal wore sandals.
“Rising, I confronted Niles, with the one despairing word, ‘Lost!’ as I pointed from the treacherous sand to the fast-waning light.
“I thought the old man would be overwhelmed but, to my surprise, he grew quite calm and steady, thought a moment, and then went on, saying, quietly:
“‘Other men have passed here before us; let us follow their steps, for, if I do not greatly err, they lead toward great passages, where one’s way is easily found.’
“On we went, bravely, till a misstep threw the professor violently to the ground with a broken leg, and nearly extinguished the torch. It was a horrible predicament, and I gave up all hope as I sat beside the poor fellow, who lay exhausted with fatigue, remorse and pain, for I would not leave him.
“‘Paul,’ he said suddenly, ‘if you will not go on, there is one more effort we can make. I remember hearing that a party lost as we are, saved themselves by building a fire. The smoke penetrated further than sound or light, and the guide’s quick wit understood the unusual mist; he followed it, and rescued the party. Make a fire and trust to Jumal.’
“‘A fire without wood?’ I began; but he pointed to a shelf behind me, which had escaped me in the gloom; and on it I saw a slender mummy-case. I understood him, for these dry cases, which lie about in hundreds, are freely used as firewood. Reaching up, I pulled it down, believing it to be empty, but as it fell, it burst open, and out rolled a mummy. Accustomed as I was to such sights, it startled me a little, for danger had unstrung my nerves. Laying the little brown chrysalis aside, I smashed the case, lit the pile with my torch, and soon a light cloud of smoke drifted down the three passages which diverged from the cell-like place where we had paused.
“While busied with the fire, Niles, forgetful of pain and peril, had dragged the mummy nearer, and was examining it with the interest of a man whose ruling passion was strong even in death.
“‘Come and help me unroll this. I have always longed to be the first to see and secure the curious treasures put away among the folds of these uncanny winding-sheets. This is a woman, and we may find something rare and precious here,’ he said, beginning to unfold the outer coverings, from which a strange aromatic odor came.
“Reluctantly I obeyed, for to me there was something sacred in the bones of this unknown woman. But to beguile the time and amuse the poor fellow, I lent a hand, wondering as I worked, if this dark, ugly thing had ever been a lovely, soft-eyed Egyptian girl.
“From the fibrous folds of the wrappings dropped precious gums and spices, which half intoxicated us with their potent breath, antique coins, and a curious jewel or two, which Niles eagerly examined.
“All the bandages but one were cut off at last, and a small head laid bare, round which still hung great plaits of what had once been luxuriant hair. The shriveled hands were folded on the breast, and clasped in them lay that gold box.”
“Ah!” cried Evelyn, dropping it from her rosy palm with a shudder.
“Nay; don’t reject the poor little mummy’s treasure. I never have quite forgiven myself for stealing it, or for burning her,” said Forsyth, painting rapidly, as if the recollection of that experience lent energy to his hand.
“Burning her! Oh, Paul, what do you mean?” asked the girl, sitting up with a face full of excitement.
“I’ll tell you. While busied with Madame la Momie, our fire had burned low, for the dry case went like tinder. A faint, far-off sound made our hearts leap, and Niles cried out: ‘Pile on the wood; Jumal is tracking us; don’t let the smoke fail now or we are lost!’
“‘There is no more wood; the case was very small, and is all gone,’ I answered, tearing off such of my garments as would burn readily, and piling them upon the embers.
“Niles did the same, but the light fabrics were quickly consumed, and made no smoke.
“‘Burn that!’ commanded the professor, pointing to the mummy.
“I hesitated a moment. Again came the faint echo of a horn. Life was dear to me. A few dry bones might save us, and I obeyed him in silence.
“A dull blaze sprung up, and a heavy smoke rose from the burning mummy, rolling in volumes through
the low passages, and threatening to suffocate us with its fragrant mist. My brain grew dizzy, the light danced before my eyes, strange phantoms seemed to people the air, and, in the act of asking Niles why he gasped and looked so pale, I lost consciousness.”
Evelyn drew a long breath, and put away the scented toys from her lap as if their odor oppressed her.
Forsyth’s swarthy face was all aglow with the excitement of his story, and his black eyes glittered as he added, with a quick laugh:
“That’s all; Jumal found and got us out, and we both forswore pyramids for the rest of our days.”
“But the box: how came you to keep it?” asked Evelyn, eyeing it askance as it lay gleaming in a streak of sunshine.
“Oh, I brought it away as a souvenir, and Niles kept the other trinkets.”
“But you said harm was foretold to the possessor of those scarlet seeds,” persisted the girl, whose fancy was excited by the tale, and who fancied all was not told.
“Among his spoils, Niles found a bit of parchment, which he deciphered, and this inscription said that the mummy we had so ungallantly burned was that of a famous sorceress who bequeathed her curse to whoever should disturb her rest. Of course I don’t believe that curse has anything to do with it, but it’s a fact that Niles never prospered from that day. He says it’s because he has never recovered from the fall and fright and I dare say it is so; but I sometimes wonder if I am to share the curse, for I’ve a vein of superstition in me, and that poor little mummy haunts my dreams still.”
A long silence followed these words. Paul painted mechanically and Evelyn lay regarding him with a thoughtful face. But gloomy fancies were as foreign to her nature as shadows are to noonday, and presently she laughed a cheery laugh, saying as she took up the box again:
“Why don’t you plant them, and see what wondrous flower they will bear?”
“I doubt if they would bear anything after lying in a mummy’s hand for centuries,” replied Forsyth, gravely.
The Mummy Megapack Page 5