He called, "Puss! puss! puss!" for he would have been quite glad of itscompany; but there came no friendly "miau" in response. Perhaps it wasonly the _Ka_ of a cat and the shadow was--oh! never mind what. TheEgyptians worshipped cats, and there were plenty of their mummies abouton the shelves. But the shadow!
Once he shouted in the hope of attracting attention, for there were nowindows to which he could climb. He did not repeat the experiment, forit seemed as though a thousand voices were answering him from everycorner and roof of the gigantic edifice.
Well, he must face the thing out. He was shut in a museum, and thequestion was in what part of it he should camp for the night. Moreover,as it was growing rapidly dark, the problem must be solved at once. Hethought with affection of the lavatory, where, before going to seethe Director, only that afternoon he had washed his hands with theassistance of a kindly Arab who watched the door and gracefully accepteda piastre. But there was no Arab there now, and the door, like everyother in this confounded place, was locked. He marched on to theentrance.
Here, opposite to each other, stood the red sarcophagi of the greatQueen Hatshepu and her brother and husband, Thotmes III. He looked atthem. Why should not one of these afford him a night's lodging? Theywere deep and quiet, and would fit the human frame very nicely. For awhile Smith wondered which of these monarchs would be the more likelyto take offence at such a use of a private sarcophagus, and, acting ongeneral principles, concluded that he would rather throw himself on themercy of the lady.
Already one of his legs was over the edge of that solemn coffer, and hewas squeezing his body beneath the massive lid that was propped aboveit on blocks of wood, when he remembered a little, naked, witheredthing with long hair that he had seen in a side chamber of the tombof Amenhotep II. in the Valley of Kings at Thebes. This caricature ofhumanity many thought, and he agreed with them, to be the actual body ofthe mighty Hatshepu as it appeared after the robbers had done with it.
Supposing now, that when he was lying at the bottom of that sarcophagus,sleeping the sleep of the just, this little personage should peep overits edge and ask him what he was doing there! Of course the idea wasabsurd; he was tired, and his nerves were a little shaken. Still, thefact remained that for centuries the hallowed dust of Queen Hatshepu hadslept where he, a modern man, was proposing to sleep.
He scrambled down from the sarcophagus and looked round him in despair.Opposite to the main entrance was the huge central hall of the Museum.Now the cement roof of this hall had, he knew, gone wrong, with theresult that very extensive repairs had become necessary. So extensivewere they, indeed, that the Director-General had informed him that theywould take several years to complete. Therefore this hall was boardedup, only a little doorway being left by which the workmen could enter.Certain statues, of Seti II. and others, too large to be moved, werealso roughly boarded over, as were some great funeral boats on eitherside of the entrance. The rest of the place, which might be two hundredfeet long with a proportionate breadth, was empty save for the colossiof Amenhotep III. and his queen Taia that stood beneath the gallery atits farther end.
It was an appalling place in which to sleep, but better, reflectedSmith, than a sarcophagus or those mummy chambers. If, for instance,he could creep behind the deal boards that enclosed one of the funeralboats he would be quite comfortable there. Lifting the curtain, heslipped into the hall, where the gloom of evening had already settled.Only the skylights and the outline of the towering colossi at the farend remained visible. Close to him were the two funeral boats which hehad noted when he looked into the hall earlier on that day, standing atthe head of a flight of steps which led to the sunk floor of the centre.He groped his way to that on the right. As he expected, the projectingplanks were not quite joined at the bow. He crept in between them andthe boat and laid himself down.
Presumably, being altogether tired out, Smith did ultimately fallasleep, for how long he never knew. At any rate, it is certain that, ifso, he woke up again. He could not tell the time, because his watchwas not a repeater, and the place was as black as the pit. He had somematches in his pocket, and might have struck one and even have lit hispipe. To his credit be it said, however, he remembered that he was thesole tenant of one of the most valuable museums in the world, and hisresponsibilities with reference to fire. So he refrained from strikingthat match under the keel of a boat which had become very dry in thecourse of five thousand years.
Smith found himself very wide awake indeed. Never in all his life did heremember being more so, not even in the hour of its great catastrophe,or when his godfather, Ebenezer, after much hesitation, had promised hima clerkship in the bank of which he was a director. His nerves seemedstrung tight as harp-strings, and his every sense was painfully acute.Thus he could even smell the odour of mummies that floated down from theupper galleries and the earthy scent of the boat which had been buriedfor thousands of years in sand at the foot of the pyramid of one of thefifth dynasty kings.
Moreover, he could hear all sorts of strange sounds, faint and far-awaysounds which at first he thought must emanate from Cairo without. Soon,however, he grew sure that their origin was more local. Doubtless thecement work and the cases in the galleries were cracking audibly, as isthe unpleasant habit of such things at night.
Yet why should these common manifestations be so universal and affecthim so strangely? Really, it seemed as though people were stirring allabout him. More, he could have sworn that the great funeral boat beneathwhich he lay had become re-peopled with the crew that once it bore.
He heard them at their business above him. There were trampings and asound as though something heavy were being laid on the deck, such, forinstance, as must have been made when the mummy of Pharaoh was set therefor its last journey to the western bank of the Nile. Yes, and now hecould have sworn again that the priestly crew were getting out the oars.
Smith began to meditate flight from the neighbourhood of that place whensomething occurred which determined him to stop where he was.
The huge hall was growing light, but not, as at first he hoped, with therays of dawn. This light was pale and ghostly, though very penetrating.Also it had a blue tinge, unlike any other he had ever seen. At firstit arose in a kind of fan or fountain at the far end of the hall,illumining the steps there and the two noble colossi which sat above.
But what was this that stood at the head of the steps, radiating glory?By heavens! it was Osiris himself or the image of Osiris, god of theDead, the Egyptian saviour of the world!
There he stood, in his mummy-cloths, wearing the feathered crown, andholding in his hands, which projected from an opening in the wrappings,the crook and the scourge of power. Was he alive, or was he dead? Smithcould not tell, since he never moved, only stood there, splendid andfearful, his calm, benignant face staring into nothingness.
Smith became aware that the darkness between him and the vision ofthis god was peopled; that a great congregation was gathering, or hadgathered there. The blue light began to grow; long tongues of it shotforward, which joined themselves together, illumining all that hugehall.
Now, too, he saw the congregation. Before him, rank upon rank of them,stood the kings and queens of Egypt. As though at a given signal, theybowed themselves to the Osiris, and ere the tinkling of their ornamentshad died away, lo! Osiris was gone. But in his place stood another,Isis, the Mother of Mystery, her deep eyes looking forth from beneaththe jewelled vulture-cap. Again the congregation bowed, and, lo! she wasgone. But in her place stood yet another, a radiant, lovely being, whoheld in her hand the Sign of Life, and wore upon her head the symbol ofthe shining disc--Hathor, Goddess of Love. A third time the congregationbowed, and she, too, was gone; nor did any other appear in her place.
The Pharaohs and their queens began to move about and speak to eachother; their voices came to his ears in one low, sweet murmur.
In his amaze Smith had forgotten fear. From his hiding-place he watchedthem intently. Some of them he knew by their faces. There, for instance,w
as the long-necked Khu-en-aten, talking somewhat angrily to theimperial Rameses II. Smith could understand what he said, for this powerseemed to have been given to him. He was complaining in a high, weakvoice that on this, the one night of the year when they might meet,the gods, or the magic images of the gods who were put up for them toworship, should not include _his_ god, symbolized by the "Aten," or thesun's disc.
"I have heard of your Majesty's god," replied Rameses; "the priests usedto tell me of him, also that he did not last long after your Majestyflew to heaven. The Fathers of Amen gave you a bad name; they called you'the heretic' and hammered out your cartouches. They were quite rare inmy time. Oh, do not let your Majesty be angry! So many of us havebeen heretics. My grandson, Seti, there"--and he pointed to a mild,thoughtful-faced man--"for example. I am told that he really worshippedthe god of those Hebrew slaves whom I used to press to build my cities.Look at that lady with him. Beautiful, isn't she? Observe her large,violet eyes! Well, she was the one who did the mischief, a Hebrewherself. At least, they tell me so."
"I will talk with him," answered Khu-en-aten. "It is more than possiblethat we may agree on certain points. Meanwhile, let me explain to yourMajesty----"
"Oh, I pray you, not now. There is my wife."
"Your wife?" said Khu-en-aten, drawing himself up. "Which wife? I amtold that your Majesty had many and left a large family; indeed, Isee some hundreds of them here to-night. Now, I--but let me introduceNefertiti to your Majesty. I may explain that she was my _only_ wife."
"So I have understood. Your Majesty was rather an invalid, were you not?Of course, in those circumstances, one prefers the nurse whom one cantrust. Oh, pray, no offence! Nefertari, my love--oh, I beg pardon!--Astnefert--Nefertari has gone to speak to some of her children--letme introduce you to your predecessor, the Queen Nefertiti, wife ofAmenhotep IV.--I mean Khu-en-aten (he changed his name, you know,because half of it was that of the father of the gods). She isinterested in the question of plural marriage. Good-bye! I wish to havea word with my grandfather, Rameses I. He was fond of me as a littleboy."
At this moment Smith's interest in that queer conversation died away,for of a sudden he beheld none other than the queen of his dreams,Ma-Mee. Oh! there she stood, without a doubt, only ten times morebeautiful than he had ever pictured her. She was tall and somewhatfair-complexioned, with slumbrous, dark eyes, and on her face gleamedthe mystic smile he loved. She wore a robe of simple white and apurple-broidered apron, a crown of golden _uraei_ with turquoise eyeswas set upon her dark hair as in her statue, and on her breast and armswere the very necklace and bracelets that he had taken from her tomb.She appeared to be somewhat moody, or rather thoughtful, for she leanedby herself against a balustrade, watching the throng without muchinterest.
Presently a Pharaoh, a black-browed, vigorous man with thick lips, drewnear.
"I greet your Majesty," he said.
She started, and answered: "Oh, it is you! I make my obeisance to yourMajesty," and she curtsied to him, humbly enough, but with a suggestionof mockery in her movements.
"Well, you do not seem to have been very anxious to find me, Ma-Mee,which, considering that we meet so seldom----"
"I saw that your Majesty was engaged with my sister queens," sheinterrupted, in a rich, low voice, "and with some other ladies in thegallery there, whose faces I seem to remember, but who I think were_not_ queens. Unless, indeed, you married them after I was drawn away."
"One must talk to one's relations," replied the Pharaoh.
"Quite so. But, you see, I have no relations--at least, none whom I knowwell. My parents, you will remember, died when I was young, leaving meEgypt's heiress, and they are still vexed at the marriage which I madeon the advice of my counsellors. But, is it not annoying? I have lostone of my rings, that which had the god Bes on it. Some dweller on theearth must be wearing it to-day, and that is why I cannot get it backfrom him."
"Him! Why 'him'? Hush; the business is about to begin."
"What business, my lord?"
"Oh, the question of the violation of our tombs, I believe."
"Indeed! That is a large subject, and not a very profitable one, Ishould say. Tell me, who is that?" And she pointed to a lady who hadstepped forward, a very splendid person, magnificently arrayed.
"Cleopatra the Greek," he answered, "the last of Egypt's Sovereigns, oneof the Ptolemys. You can always know her by that Roman who walks aboutafter her."
"Which?" asked Ma-Mee. "I see several--also other men. She was thewretch who rolled Egypt in the dirt and betrayed her. Oh, if it were notfor the law of peace by which we must abide when we meet thus!"
"You mean that she would be torn to shreds, Ma-Mee, and her very soulscattered like the limbs of Osiris? Well, if it were not for that law ofpeace, so perhaps would many of us, for never have I heard a single kingamong these hundreds speak altogether well of those who went before orfollowed after him."
"Especially of those who went before if they happen to have hammered outtheir cartouches and usurped their monuments," said the queen, dryly,and looking him in the eyes.
At this home-thrust the Pharaoh seemed to wince. Making no answer, hepointed to the royal woman who had mounted the steps at the end of thehall.
Queen Cleopatra lifted her hand and stood thus for a while. Verysplendid she was, and Smith, on his hands and knees behind the boardingof the boat, thanked his stars that alone among modern men it had beenhis lot to look upon her rich and living loveliness. There she shone,she who had changed the fortunes of the world, she who, whatever she didamiss, at least had known how to die.
Silence fell upon that glittering galaxy of kings and queens and uponall the hundreds of their offspring, their women, and their greatofficers who crowded the double tier of galleries around the hall.
"Royalties of Egypt," she began, in a sweet, clear voice whichpenetrated to the farthest recesses of the place, "I, Cleopatra, thesixth of that name and the last monarch who ruled over the Upper and theLower Lands before Egypt became a home of slaves, have a word to sayto your Majesties, who, in your mortal days, all of you more worthilyfilled the throne on which once I sat. I do not speak of Egypt and itsfate, or of our sins--whereof mine were not the least--that brought herto the dust. Those sins I and others expiate elsewhere, and of them,from age to age, we hear enough. But on this one night of the year, thatof the feast of him whom we call Osiris, but whom other nations haveknown and know by different names, it is given to us once more to bemortal for an hour, and, though we be but shadows, to renew the lovesand hates of our long-perished flesh. Here for an hour we strut in ourforgotten pomp; the crowns that were ours still adorn our brows, andonce more we seem to listen to our people's praise. Our hopes are thehopes of mortal life, our foes are the foes we feared, our gods growreal again, and our lovers whisper in our ears. Moreover, this joy isgiven to us--to see each other as we are, to know as the gods know, andtherefore to forgive, even where we despise and hate. Now I have done,and I, the youngest of the rulers of ancient Egypt, call upon him whowas the first of her kings to take my place."
She bowed, and the audience bowed back to her. Then she descended thesteps and was lost in the throng. Where she had been appeared an oldman, simply-clad, long-bearded, wise-faced, and wearing on his grey hairno crown save a plain band of gold, from the centre of which rose thesnake-headed _uraeus_ crest.
"Your Majesties who came after me," said the old man, "I am Menes, thefirst of the accepted Pharaohs of Egypt, although many of those who wentbefore me were more truly kings than I. Yet as the first who joinedthe Upper and the Lower Lands, and took the royal style and titles, andruled as well as I could rule, it is given to me to talk with you fora while this night whereon our spirits are permitted to gather from theuttermost parts of the uttermost worlds and see each other face to face.First, in darkness and in secret, let us speak of the mystery of thegods and of its meanings. Next, in darkness and in secret, let us speakof the mystery of our lives, of whence they come, of where they tarry bythe ro
ad, and whither they go at last. And afterwards, let us speak ofother matters face to face in light and openness, as we were wont to dowhen we were men. Then hence to Thebes, there to celebrate our yearlyfestival. Is such your will?"
"Such is our will," they answered.
It seemed to Smith that dense darkness fell upon the place, and withit a silence that was awful. For a time that he could not reckon, thatmight have been years or might have been moments, he sat there in theutter darkness and the utter silence.
At length the light came again, first as a blue spark, then in upwardpouring rays, and lastly pervading all. There stood Menes on the steps,and there in front of him was gathered the same royal throng.
"The mysteries are finished," said the old king. "Now, if any have aughtto say, let it be said openly."
A young man dressed in the robes and ornaments of an early dynasty cameforward and stood upon the steps between the Pharaoh Menes and all thosewho had reigned after him. His face seemed familiar to Smith, as wasthe side lock that hung down behind his right ear in token of his youth.Where had he seen him? Ah, he remembered. Only a few hours ago lying inone of the cases of the Museum, together with the bones of the PharaohUnas.
"Your Majesties," he began, "I am the King Metesuphis. The matter thatI wish to lay before you is that of the violation of our sepulchres bythose men who now live upon the earth. The mortal bodies of many who aregathered here to-night lie in this place to be stared at and mockedby the curious. I myself am one of them, jawless, broken, hideous tobehold. Yonder, day by day, must my _Ka_ sit watching my desecratedflesh, torn from the pyramid that, with cost and labour, I raised up tobe an eternal house wherein I might hide till the hour of resurrection.Others of us lie in far lands. Thus, as he can tell you, my predecessor,Man-kau-ra, he who built the third of the great pyramids, the Pyramid ofHer, sleeps, or rather wakes in a dark city, called London, across theseas, a place of murk where no sun shines. Others have been burnt withfire, others are scattered in small dust. The ornaments that were oursare stole away and sold to the greedy; our sacred writings and oursymbols are their jest. Soon there will not be one holy grave in Egyptthat remains undefiled."
Smith and the Pharaohs, and other Tales Page 4