E-text prepared by Mary Glenn Krause, Sam W., and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team ( http://www.pgdp.net ) from page images generously made available by Internet Archive ( https://archive.org ) — Hatsu A Story of Egypt
The fifth day of the first month of summer had
come, and in a sunset of gold and purple hues, the
Nile was glorified; birds had ceased their songs,
the air was heavy with the perfume of flowers, and
away to the westward the evening star was setting.
Here, and there, along the shore, lithe, tawney-skinned
girls filled earthern jars with water, then
lifted them to their shoulders, and walked across
the greenness, into the deepening night.
On this delta—or plain—of lower Egypt, there
stood, three thousand years ago, the city of Abydos;
it measured ten square miles in circumference, and
was shut in on three sides, by walls of reddish sand-stone
and the unwalled side—fronting the Nile—was
a pleasure ground, belonging to a Royal residence
and named, the “Palace of Tears,” so called because
it was occupied by the King or his family
only during seasons of personal, or national distress.
Entrance into Abydos, was obtainable through
three gateways, and over each there were towers, in
which night and day, year in, and year out, the
priests of Osirus, kept watch and ward with much
fasting and many prayers.
2]
The word “SILENCE” was cut into the stone
arch above each gate, and within the city, conversation
was carried on in whispers; no sound of instruments
of music, no peal of bells, was ever heard,
only the lowing of cattle in the Royal meadows, and
the bellowing of sacred bulls, in the temple grounds,
only the singing of birds among the trees, and the
never ceasing chant of the priests broke the stillness.
The reason the city of Abydos was so sanctified
a spot was because it was believed to be the resting
place of all that had once been mortal of the Man-GOD,
Osirus.
On this summer night three thousand years ago,
in the Palace of Tears, Tothmes the First, of Egypt,
lay dying.
He had been a wise ruler, an able statesman, a
brave and successful soldier. Under his guidance
and supervision, architecture in Egypt had progressed,
many new temples had been built, many
ancient ruins restored.
At Memphis he had erected a grand palace, and
in the same city had beautified the temple of
Ammon; but the greatest act of his reign, was the
taking down, of the barriers, that had isolated
Egypt from the world, beyond its borders, for ten
centuries of time; the only blot on this King’s life
page was the enslavement of the Israelites, in a
bitter and cruel bondage.
3]
Now, this great ruler lay upon his golden couch
in an upper room in the Palace of Tears, waiting,
in perfect consciousness, for the end.
It was his wish that in his last hour, all should
leave him, save his daughter, the Princess Hatsu,
an olive-skinned, dark-eyed girl, who lay sobbing
upon his breast.
All sense of pain had left the once tortured body
of the King, and a peace, like that of the twilight
without, had fallen upon him.
One hand cold with the damps of departing life
was slowly and tenderly caressing the long braids of
the girl’s dark hair.
“Hatsu,” said the King, “do not cry any more,
all the tears of Egypt, all the prayers of her priests
avail not to stay this life of mine. Child, it matters
not whether that which we call breath, is lodged
under a King’s robe, or a beggar’s rags, at the bidding
of some almighty power, it comes forth and
goes its way into the unknown. Hatsu, the call has
come to me, and I would fain be gone. I only linger
to gain the promise that you will wed Tothmes the
Second, for, full well I know, that, when your
brother sits upon the throne, his mother,—standing
behind the chair of state,—will speak her wish,
through his poor faltering lips; full well I know
that she will so guide and counsel her son that worse
than sorrow may come to be your portion, because
4]
you will not become wife to the Prince—your
brother. Child, how can I meet in some beyond
the young mother who gave her life for yours, and
to her question, ‘Is it well with my babe?’ make
answer ‘nay.’”
The girl raised herself with a slowness that showed
how weak and spent she was; she unknit her fingers
from those of the King, and rose and stood before
him.
“Father,” she said, “the promise you ask holds
more of torture for my woman’s soul than you with
your man’s nature can know, yet I defy your will no
longer. I give you promise to wed Tothmes the
Second.”
The King, with a mighty effort, raised himself to
a sitting posture, his face was pinched and ghastly
pale, his eyes gleamed with an unnatural light as
he gasped, “Down upon your knees, girl, and repeat
slowly and distinctly, that I may miss no word,
the ‘oath prayer.’ Quick! girl, quick!”
She knelt at his bidding and slowly and quietly
said these words:
“O Thou Beneficent One!
“Protector of life!
“Thou to whom we flee for succor, when earth’s
tempests lower, or when death draws near.
“To Thee, Great Principal, our Sun, our Moon,
our Star.
5]
“To Thee, the guide of all who pass into the
realms of shade, I call. Elder brother, Thou who
having once been man and endured like us life’s
temptations. Thou knowest our infirmities, and can
therefore with divine compassion forgive our proneness
to err.
“O, Osirus, Thou that shall judge us at the last
day, and with infinite tenderness, shield us from
Seth and his geni, when they strive to prove before
the great tribunal, the unfitness of a world soul, for
the realms of bliss.
“O, Osirus, I swear to Thee, to obey the will of
my father the King.”
Like a falcon, that needs but the loosing of the
silken thread, that it may lift its wings and mount
into the blue, the soul of Tothmes the First, upon
the promise of his child, soared upward, and was
not; and her cry of anguish told to those who stood
without that the time had come in which to proclaim
the reign of Tothmes the Second.
CHAPTER II.
6]
The seventy-two days of mourning for the dead
had been accomplished, the oblations and purifications
of the living had been performed.
Again it was night in the Palace of Tears.
The ladies-in-waiting upon the Princess Hatsu
were weary of the funeral pomp and circumstance
by which they had been for so many weeks environed,
and one and all hailed with delight the
prospect of beginning on the morrow, the journey
back to Thebes, where their royal mistress was to
wed the now reigning King of Egypt.
So they had happy thoughts, as they silently regarded
Her Highness, who, with her favorite serving
maid, standing behind her chair, sat by one of
the narrow windows, her arm upon the sill, her hand
forming a rest for her face, as she looked out on
the river and the palace garden, bathed in the splendor
of a full moon’s light.
The maid behind the Princess’ chair was a girl
whose appearance was in marked contrast, through
its race characteristics, to the other women present.
Her skin, unlike the Egyptian ladies’, was devoid of
yellow tinting, and its whiteness was the more
marked because of the faint rose bloom on cheek
7]
and lip. Her hair, rippling on either side of her
broad brow, was brown in color, and its two heavy
braids fell to the hem of her gown.
Her large blue eyes were shaded by long golden
brown lashes; her eyebrows, strongly arched, were
black.
When she smiled, a little dimple played at hide-and-seek
in one of the rounded cheeks and there was
a shimmer of pearls between the rosy lips.
The ladies-in-waiting upon the Princess Hatsu
were all daughters of high priests, for the priesthood
of Egypt represented, with the military officials,
the gentry of Mizram. The function of
priesthood was not confined exclusively to ecclesiastic
thought; it embraced beside theology the professions
of law, medicine, science, philosophy, poetry,
and history, so it is easily seen that an intellectual,
rather than a so-called spiritual condition was the
priestly requirement.
There was no such thing in Egypt as succession
from father to son. Outside the office of kingship
itself, knowledge was the power, through which one
and all must mount to distinction; education was a
free gift to the people, irrespective of caste, and the
child of the humblest pilot or artisan of to-day,
might, through the force of his mentality, be the
priestly or military influence behind a to-morrow’s
throne.
8]
Each Nome—or State—in Egypt had its High
Priest or Governor; to him was entrusted the control
of the industries of his province—the granaries,
the garden produce, and all manufactured articles
and to him came the rentals of public lands and
houses that had been dedicated by the kingdom or
given by private individuals for the service of some
particular god or goddess.
Celebacy in the priesthood was discouraged in
Egypt. The number of children gathered about the
hearthstone was a matter for pride and thanksgiving,
the lack of such treasures always a cause for
sorrow and shame.
Now these ladies-in-waiting (or if you will, maids-of-honor)
to the Princess Hatsu, came from the
forty-nine states of the kingdom, their homes were
scattered from one end of Egypt to the other and
their fathers were devoted to one of the various intellectual
callings that have been mentioned. These
girls represented many distinctive mental types, and
as for religious belief, what one thought spiritually
in Egypt was a matter of individual choice, and it
is not at all improbable that the forty-nine high
priests (represented in the Princess’ household by
their daughters) served forty-nine distinctive ideals
of Deity and were in their theological views as diametrically
opposed as are the various sects and
schisms of our day.
9]
Then as regarded the manner and speech of these
girls one could tell by their pronunciation whether
they came from Mazor—lower Egypt—or Pathos—upper
Egypt; but there was a sameness about
their appearance; they all had round voluptuous
figures, small, well-shaped noses, long gray eyes, full
red lips, and smooth hair, which—to meet a prevailing
fashion—was dyed a dark blue.
It had been the pleasure of Tothmes the First
to give to his daughter only that which should charm
her eye, and please her senses, so the maidens that
the king had selected to bear the Princess company
were endowed with beauty, wit, and all
womanly graces and accomplishments; yet for them
one and all Hatsu felt but a kindly friendship; her
heart’s love she gave to Miriam, her maid—Miriam,
daughter of Abram, the Israelite, Abram the skilled
architect, into whose hands the late King had given
the planning and construction of the third pyramid.
Had Miriam been a free woman, this fondness
of the Princess for her might have caused a feeling
of envy in the breasts of the ladies-in-waiting; but
what did it signify—how Hatsu treated the girl who
plaited her hair? Miriam was a slave! * * *
It was a long and a silent service, that the ladies-in-waiting
had kept this night, but at last the Princess
lifted her face from her hands and turned toward
her attendants.
10]
“I fear,” she said, “that I am but a poor companion,
and I will not weary you with longer waiting.
The night is young, the gardens below are
beautiful in the moonlight, go and enjoy them for
the last time.”
Then the girls arose, and stepping backwards,
curtseyed themselves out of the apartment, the last
one closing the door softly behind her. When the
sound of their footsteps had died away the Princess
spoke.
“Come, my Miriam,” she said, “and take this
seat beside me, wind your arm about my waist, and
I will lay my head against your breast, and we will
talk to one another. I have been looking at the
Sphinx down yonder. For untold generations she
has been asking her unsolvable riddle, ‘Whence are
we? whither do we go?’ Night after night I have
sat here and made inarticulate cry to the beautiful
raised head, gazing with expectant eyes toward the
west, until at last she seemed to say to my soul,
‘Sister woman, there is no god, but fate, and time—the
present time—is ALWAYS his prophet.’
“If this be so, what need of losing breath in
prayer? what need of so-called conscience, tell me,
Miriam, may I not without fear of the wrath of an
avenging God, break the vow I made to my father
the King? and with your aid (and another’s) escape
11]
from out the city to-night and so save myself from
the living death that awaits me in Thebes?”
“Hatsu, beloved,” said Miriam gently (for so
it was the will of the Princess that she should be addressed
by Miriam when alone) “the great stone
image on the plain is naught but the work of man!
It has no life, save in the superstitious fancy of a
priest-ridden nation! Hatsu, there is above, about,
and around us, an eternal force, and it created that
which we call humanity. We of Israel call this
force ‘God’—the ‘All Father’—and ‘Jehovah,’
and though our bondage under Egypt’s yoke seems
to human understanding intolerable, we feel spiritually
that we are the children of this King of Kings
and Lord of Lords. We understand that when His
wise purpose is fulfilled, we shall bless this providence,
of chains, and scourgings, and burdens, as a
lesson of love, and mercy, making us the more
worthy of our inheritance in the promised land.”
The Princess raised her head and listened in
silence until Miriam had ceased to speak. “Your
words are pretty,” she said with a sigh, “they
soothe one like the crooning of a lullabye, and believing
it, as you do, must be to you a great consolation,
but to me, dear Miriam, it is all delusion, and
emptiness! I have read much of theology, and have
longed to cultivate faith, but to me all forms of religion
seem phantom things, elusive, and delusive;
12]
they are assertions of Deity, founded upon legends,
and then reared, by unreasoning superstition,
through countless generations of men! do not shake
your pretty head, Miriam, for I know whereof I
speak, and I this day have cast my praying beads
aside as worthless toys! while all my thoughts,
hopes, and fears, are gathered about the awful fact
of that near-at-hand wedding day. The time has
come when, if I am to keep the pledge made to my
dying father, I must lay aside these garments of
sorrow, and don the bridal robe and crown. To-morrow
we leave the blessed quiet of this place to
journey back to Thebes, and there I shall wed that
grewsome creature that reigns in my father’s place!
Small comfort do I take in the knowledge that my
witless brother has been new calendared among
Egypt’s saints! So do they make gods of many
noxious beasts and vipers! Tell me, Miriam, could
any merciful force, anything with even finest human
intelligence doom a maiden to link herself with
yonder living, breathing mass of nothingness? My
husband, that is to be, clings to the toys of his earliest
childhood, merrily jingles his rattle and bells, and
is soothed to sleep by the crooning of nursery rhyme!
Tothmes the Second a saint! Tothmes the Second
a King! There is no God! There is no unseen
power! We are creatures of the dust, ruled by
creed and greed! See, Miriam, no fire from the
13]
Heaven you prate of consumes me for this uttered
sacrilege! My heart beats on! My breath comes
and goes, as I look up to the star-spangled sky and
speak my mind! But, O Miriam, Miriam, is there
nothing that can save me?” The Princess had
arisen, in her agony, and she now flung herself upon
the ground, burying her face in Miriam’s lap.
For a moment there was silence, and then Miriam
spoke.
“Hatsu, beloved,” she said, “the path marked
out for you to tread seems a dark and thorny one.
I would that I could scatter rose leaves upon it or
lift its gloom, but I can only read from one life
guide, and in all its pages I see the word “obedience.”
Our God hath said, ‘Honor thy father and
thy mother that thy days may be long in the land,’
therefore, dear and honored mistress, cease to
struggle against that which you have vowed beside
your father’s dying bed to perform, and, in the midst
of your present despair let this thought comfort you,
our sojourn on this planet, that men call the Earth,
is but for a moment of time; this will lead you to
believe that in some better sphere, you will look back
to see that yesterday’s sorrows were but mists and
nothing more. Think not of yourself, dear lady,
but of your land, of Egypt. She has need of you
upon her throne. Your people love and trust you.
Can you then subject them to a rule so terrible as
14]
would surely befall should the mother of Tothmes
the Second have power to guide the State? Live
for your people, Hatsu, and leave your present and
your future in the hands of the One God; call Him
if you will Osirus, for any name we call (if we call
with reverent spirit) the Supreme Ruler will answer
to.”
The Princess raised her head and looked into
Miriam’s eyes.
“Dear Miriam,” she said, “I have no faith to
offer to Deity; have I not prayed and fasted through
these days of mourning? and has help come? No,
but rather with each new hour I have felt the meshes
of the net more tightly drawn about me! And always
night and day I see this picture. A girl stands
before me. She wears upon her head a heavy golden
crown. Its frontlet is an Eagle—the emblem of
power, strength, and freedom; the Eagle’s wings are
wide spread; the bird glitters with gems—oh, how
they shine!—but they are above eyes that fain would
weep, yet dare not; they are above a heart that
must not break! The girl’s garment is of cloth of
gold, and her long braids are entwined with pearls;
her sandalled feet glimmer like frost in the sunshine;
on her arms, about her throat, and in her ears, diamonds
glisten, and as she stands upon a carpet of
freshly gathered flowers, she is a priceless gift to
the King, her husband that is to be; but under this
15]
mask of silk, and gold, and gem, I see a degraded
womanhood! the girl is spiritually bound by something
stronger than captive chains; oh, Miriam,”
she cried, springing to her feet, “there are no Gods!
there is no one God! Nay! do not speak, but listen!
I have from babyhood served the Gods of my
people! I have with my own hands fed the sacred
beasts and birds in the Temple. I have dedicated
every heliotrope in all the palace gardens to Osirus,
and what is my reward? I am to be mated to deformity
of mind and body! A deformity that so
disgraces the name of man that his coming shadow
makes the bravest shudder! His touch is like
leprosy! His caresses will be Hell. Oh, that the
God you worship would hear my cry for escape!
Pray to Him, Miriam, and may-hap, through your
faith, in this eleventh hour, there will be found a
city of refuge for me.”
Even as the Princess spoke these words, there
came a strong tap upon the door, and in an instant
she had resumed her seat, and Miriam her place,
behind her mistress’ chair.
Then, at the bidding of Hatsu, the door swung
back, and two by two, there entered a company of
youths, each bearing golden lamps.
Following the youths came a man, holding a
golden salver, on which lay a small parchment scroll.
Bowing low (not kneeling), he presented it to the
16]
Princess, who received it and read aloud the contents,
in a clear, quiet voice.
“Hatsu, Daughter of our Departed Lord, and
King. All Hail! It is the will of the Sovereign
Ruler of the Universe, Osirus, King of Kings and
Lord of Lords, that thou (accompanied by thine
Israelitish handmaiden, Miriam) follow Alric, the
bearer of this scroll, without question, through the
Palace of Tears, even down into the subterranean
grotto, known to the faithful of Mizram as the labyrinth
of Death. At a certain place by the way, at
Alric’s bidding, leave the handmaiden, and the captain
of the King’s guards, and take thy way alone,
even unto the doorway that opens into the Temple of
Osirus in the city of Abydos. Come thither, oh
daughter of a great King, wife to be of our sainted
Monarch, and on thy lonely way give thy soul into
Osirus’ care and keeping. This, O Princess, is the
will of Zelas the High Priest.”
When the last word had been read the Princess
raised the scroll to her lips, then tying it with the
red silken cord, she put it into the bosom of her
gown. Raising her gray eyes and looking for the
first time at the captain of the King’s guard, she
said, slowly and distinctly:
“Lead the way, and Miriam and Hatsu will follow
thee.”
CHAPTER III.
17]
Miriam stood watching in silence the form of her
mistress the Princess Hatsu until she had disappeared
from sight in a curve of the avenue, or path, then she
sat herself down upon a stone bench, and with closed
eyes and folded hands sent prayers—like white-winged
angels—to keep the Princess company.
So earnest was her thought that she had quite
forgotten the companionship of the captain of the
King’s guard, until the sound of his voice called her
back to her immediate surroundings.
“She is indeed brave of heart is the Princess,”
said the captain, a ring of enthusiasm sounding
through his words. “There are not many women,
old or young, that would start on this journey with
no consciousness of fear, for, setting all thought of
superstition aside, it is a grewsome place. There is
not, I assure you, a foot of the entire way from
here to the Temple, that does not afford sepulchre
to some lifeless object, once an animated ‘I am,’ now
a hideous semblance, an ugly jest upon being.”
Miriam lifted her great blue eyes to the speaker’s
face as she said:
“Whatever else you may be, my lord, you are
not a worshipper of Osirus, for all his faithful ones
18]
know that nothing is so sacred in his sight as are
these embalmed birds, beasts and reptiles.”
The man smiled and shrugged his shoulders; he
did not seem to consider that any explanation of his
recent sacrilege was necessary to an Israelitish slave.
This captain of the King’s guard was probably well
past his thirtieth year, and unlike the majority of
Egyptian manhood, he was of athletic proportions;
he wore upon his feet and legs, sandals and leggins
of scarlet leather. The leggins were cut into numberless
thongs or strips, and each one was fastened
in place by a gold and jeweled buckle. His tunic,
or loosely flowing frock, was of white linen exquisitely
embroidered with colored flosses, to represent
leaves and blossoms: at his shoulders the tunic was
gathered up with broad clasps of diamonds. About
his throat was a collar of diamonds, with pendant
strings, that fell, like threads of shimmering light,
to his broad breast. His arms were bare, save for
the jeweled bracelets or coils that serpent-like twined
from wrist to armpit and looked like part of a coat
of mail. His hair was worn in short curly waves
about his forehead and the sides of his fair smoothly
shaven face, then, its curly brown profusion, fell
from the back, far below his waist. Full well
Miriam knew this handsome gallant captain of the
King’s guards, and heretofore (for reasons best
known to herself) she had held him in honor as
19]
one who was her mistress’ trusted and loyal servant;
but to-day, in her loving anxiety for the Princess, the
thought came to her that it would be best to guard
her speech, for how (she reasoned) could she tell
but that the Queen Regent, the mother of King
Tothmes the Second, might not have sent the Captain
to spy upon her mistress? Miriam was a wise
maiden, she had been taught life’s lessons in the
school of adversity and she had come to know,
through bitter experience, that he who listens has
less to fear than he who talks. So she said gently:
“My lord, it is not courteous to be mirthful or
scornful over that which the King you serve holds
so sacred,” and she pointed to the niched wall where,
in gaudily painted wooden cases, the faces of cats,
birds, and other creatures of the animal kingdom,
grinning of jaw and glassy of eye, looked down
upon them.
“Perhaps,” replied the captain, “if you, my
pretty Miriam, had been selected to go from one
end of the kingdom to the other to act as escort to
dead cats, and dogs, oxen, and birds, and so bring
them to this their final resting place, perhaps, I say,
if you had been selected and then detailed to instruct
the natives as to the salting and other disgusting
mortuary preparations, you would have come in
time to regard these things as I do, as only powerful
through their offensiveness to one’s nostrils! as only
20]
capable of working harm, when as decaying animal
matter they are allowed to pollute the otherwise pure
atmosphere.”
“I do not understand how you dare to say all this
to me, my lord,” said Miriam, “for unbelievers
though we be, you, a Syrian, I an Israelite, we are
now in the most sacred sepulchre of Osirus. We
both know what the speaking ill of a living sacred
animal may cost. We know what the wilful killing
of any of these forms of life means for him who
does the deed. How often have you and I, suddenly
coming by the way upon some dead thing,
fallen upon our knees and plucked from out our
heads a few hairs to propitiate the anger of Deity?”
“My charming Israelite,” said the captain drawing
a trifle nearer, “as you know full well, I have
been reared from youth up in the household of
Zelas the High Priest of Osirus. Let me confide to
you that I, Alric, look into this great man’s face
as fearlessly as does the babe upon its mother! Aye,
oftentimes I sit smiling in my content, while close
at hand the awful voice of Zelas is heard, hurling
anathemas upon the unfaithful as generously as a
rose tree sheds its leaves when a breeze woos too
roughly. This being so, do you fancy that these
dried, glassy-eyed puppets mean anything to me but
what they are? Then, as to my speaking openly to
you, pray, who is there to hear my words? The folk
21]
in yonder palace would far rather accept an invitation
to Troth’s kingdom than set so much as one
foot upon this subterranean path. As for the priests,
they hold the place in such superstitious horror that
when they are forced to come thither they appear
in great companies, singing at the top of their voices
(which, of course, would give one an intimation of
their proximity long before they themselves could
appear). And now let me tell you a bit of pleasant
news. The Princess Hatsu, through, and by this
pilgrimage of hers, is going to inspire in her people
an awesome reverence that shall exalt her to a goddesship
far beyond that bestowed upon the idiot, her
husband (that is to be), aye, even as I speak, by
the command of Zelas, the news of this journey of
the Princess (our future Queen) is being shouted
through the land by mounted heralds, and everywhere
prayers are offered for the preservation of the
body and soul of this brave girl, that she may come
through the awful, supernatural test, unconsumed;
for you must know that it is usually believed that
this cool and sequestered labyrinth is torrid in its
temperature and holds many, if not all, the terrors
and tortures, that meet and greet the human soul
when a life on earth is past.”
“But, my lord, what will all this avail? The
mother of our new King holds the controlling power
in the councils of state, and well you know, she has
22]
for our late King’s daughter a bitter and relentless
hate.”
My lord Alric studied the smoothly worn stone
path under foot, pushing with the toe of his sandal
some imaginary straw aside, ere he made answer.
“Our Sainted King’s most noble and gracious
mother hath become (so saith the all-wise High
Priest Zelas) too sacred a thing to be put in daily
and hourly contact with the naughty world. Be it
known to you, O Miriam, that the mother of
Tothmes the Second will hereafter be powerless to
do aught but pray, since she has this day been received
into the cloistered nunnery of the Sisterhood
of Perpetual Silence.”
“To our One God, Jehovah, I offer my thanks,”
said Miriam fervently, “but, my lord, do you not
fear to speak thus openly to me, for it must surely
be known to you that from my mistress I will keep
no word?”
“For that matter,” answered Alric lightly, “you
and I have but one life purpose. I, too, keep nothing
concealed from the Princess Hatsu. Listen, I
will unfold to you now more serious matters. I,
Alric, hold the peace, the happiness, the life of the
Princess Hatsu in my power, and for my service the
price I ask shall be one gift—I want Miriam, the
daughter of Abram to wife.”
With a cry, Miriam rose to her feet and stood
23]
before Alric, moved (she did not question why)
by an anger quite unknown to her in any hour of her
past life.
“Spy! Coward!!” she said, her pink cheeks
flamed to a deep red, her eyes blazed with scorn,
and her splendid figure seemed as fixed as a graven
image. “You shall find that for all your cunning
there will open for you no vulnerable place in the
armor of my loyalty to my mistress! Aye, all your
brutal showing of your freeman’s power over my
bondage and my woman’s weakness cannot reach my
SOUL! I, Miriam, defy you to gain from me in the
future one word I do not choose to speak. Let the
Princess make a free gift of her bondwoman! to
you! and I must submit to the inevitable, but mark
me, no word that the Princess ever has said, or will
say, shall come to you through me! and every word
that you have said or will say shall be whispered into
her ear. My Lord Alric, in my young childhood
the late King took me from among mine own people
to be the companion of his daughter. He gave to
my father a place of honor and trust among the
builders, and the Princess has cherished me with
sisterly tenderness. If you will that I die for it
here at your feet, still I swear not to become your
tool, even though I be your slave, aye, to my God I
swear it!”
The Captain had moved a pace or two back from
24]
Miriam as she spoke, and as he listened to her every
word he put one of his hands into the folds of his
toga and drew from thence a small disk of glass.
He never took his eyes from Miriam’s eyes; his
gaze was fixed, and intense, and as she had gone on
with her speech, it was perceptible that all unconsciously
a subtle power was weaving itself about her.
A sense, not of faintness, but rather of pleasant
numbness stole slowly and softly over Miriam, mind
and nerves, and a sweet peace that stayed the angry
torrent of her blood, and brought a smile to her
lips came, when she heard (as in a dream) these
words.
“By my shield and buckler, by my good sword,
I swear to you, that I am loyal to the Princess
Hatsu.”
A change was passing over the girl’s face. She
still stood before him, erect, and calm, but expression
was fading out. The look that the dead wear
was with her. Her color had fled, giving place to
ashen wanness, and the light in her beautiful eyes
was dimmed. Her mouth grew set, her nostrils
pinched, and her breathing came in great waves of
effort. Alric now raised his other hand and moved
it to and fro above the girl’s head, to a sort of
measured time, repeating slowly, crooningly, and
softly:
25]
“Go to sleep!
G-o t-o s-l-e-e-p.
G—o t—o s—l—e—e—p.”
Then he lowered the hand above her, gently pushed
her back onto the stone bench from which she had
risen, and rested her rigid head against the wall.
Then it was that her sob-like breathing ceased
and, save that her eyes were widely open and staring,
one would have said that Miriam had found her
way into slumberland.
Keeping the disk of glass before her eyes, Alric
spoke:
“Spirit,” he said softly, “spirit, what dost thou
here?”
And from the white lips came the answer:
“I wait to do thy bidding, my Lord.”
CHAPTER IV.
26]
“Spirit,” he said, “give me the name of thy
master.”
“My earthly master,” she made answer, “is
one Alric, the grandson of Emil, who was called
the wise man of Damascus.”
“It is well, oh spirit. And although now, thou
dost abide in a clay tenement, that the humanity
of this generation, name Miriam, the Israelitish
maiden, I know full well that thou, the soul, the
life principal, can in memory go so far back, through
eons of time, that its mention would be meaningless
to the world of to-day; yet, because thou hast responded
to my power, I know, oh spirit, that we
have met before, that we came close in love, or
hate, and that in the evolution of law, and order,
we have met again. Tell me of that time. Speak
of our past, oh spirit, it is my will.”
“My name was Gweneth,” answered a voice (that
was not Miriam’s voice at all). “In that fleshly
captivity I abode far to the westward. My land
was over many leagues of immeasureable water.
The nation, powerful then, is forgotten; its people
are dust; its cities buried in the bowels of the earth.
“You were my father’s favorite knight—and his
27]
two daughters loved you; you were bold, and wooed
them both in secret, and apart; but one that watched,
made speed to tell the King! And it was so grave
a crime that naught but life, could be its expiation,
and yet, you had said no word; had only looked into
her eyes and mine.
“The day of doom came, and all were gathered
to see the archer twang his bow, and mark how
surely the sharp arrow should find your heart; but
they who watched, saw a stranger sight. Behold!
one arrow did set free three souls.
“The winds of destiny parted us asunder; and
through a dreary, dreary length of time, have I
wandered. A myriad times have I been born, and
lived, and died, and never in this infinite migration
once beheld the soul I sought, until in Egypt’s land,
a slave, a bondmaid, I serve my sister now the
Princess Hatsu. I kneel, to do the bidding of my
father’s knight who is called Alric now.”
“It is well, sweet Gweneth, we are met again.
Now tell me all thou dost know concerning the life
of Hatsu the Egyptian Princess?”
“Alas, beloved, thou canst gain no secret knowledge
concerning the Princess Hatsu from me, for
the God to whom Miriam, the Israelitish maiden,
prays is mightier than all the gods of Egypt. All
thought, beloved, is of the soul, and I, Gweneth,
28]
dare not approach to read what is written in the
mind of this Heaven-guarded maid, Miriam.”
An exclamation of irritation escaped from Alric’s
lips; and in that moment Miriam stirred, as one
does who is about to awake; but he hastily made
some passes above her head with his hand, and once
more acknowledging his hypnotic power, she grew
still.
“Come, sweet Gweneth,” he said gently, “time
flies and thou must follow Hatsu on her way. Tell
me what thou seest?”
Miriam raised her head, and lifted her arm, placing
her hand above her eyes, as one does who peers
into the distance.
“She is wending her way along a road,” she
said, “a narrow road, walled in and lighted by
lamps, enclosed in globes of dull red glass, thus
giving, if it were possible, a more grewsome effect
to the creatures sepulchered there; but Hatsu has
no dread, she has been used to count these things
when living, as her friends, so she does not fear
them dead! Neither does Hatsu’s heart tremble, at
the thought of meeting the great High Priest,
although she knows that no woman has ever before
beheld his face. Although she knows that when
he ministers to the people, it is always behind the
Temple’s silken veil.”
29]
“It is truth that thou speaketh, fair spirit, so lead
on.”
“She is pausing,” said Miriam, “for there has
come to her ears the sound of voices. They the
voices of a great company of priests, and they are
repeating in low, even tones the prayers for the
dead. She has prostrated herself upon the earth,
and the priests forming in two lines, walk past her,
swinging their golden censers right and left, and I
can hear the voice of the Princess, joining in the
petition, for the soul of her father—still on its journey
to the kingdom that lies beyond the tomb. Now
the sound of the singing grows fainter, the silence
comes again, and Hatsu rises and goes on her way.
She has reached a flight of broad stone steps. She
is weary and the steps are many, but she presses
on. She has reached the great door. She timidly
touches it with her finger tips, but it swings noiselessly
open, and she enters and finds herself within
the temple.”
“Tell me of this temple.”
“It is a great hall, lofty and spacious, and it
shines from floor to dome, with gold and silver and
jewels. Panels of delicate yellow amber, give a
satin-like touch of softness to the cold stone. The
recesses that hold the cages of the sacred birds and
beasts, are veiled by curtains of heavily embroidered
silken stuffs, and all this splendor is added to by the
30]
brilliant lights that are set into the walls. Through
the centre of the temple, and at intervals along its
sides, are massive pillars of yellow and rose colored
sand-stone. Beyond is the great altar, brilliant with
lights, heavy with the fragrance of burning incense
and of the sacred blossoms.
“No human thing is in sight. The tame beasts
and birds are wandering about the temple. They
have noted the Princess’s entrance, and are hastening
to surround her.
“Thus accompanied she is nearing the altar.
“The heavy silken curtains are parting, and from
between them there comes, not a man! but a god!
the Sun God! in man’s stature! He is exceeding
tall and lithe and sinewy. He is in the zenith of
manhood, neither young nor old.
“His flesh is firm and white and colorless. His
eyes are large and bright, and deeply blue, and his
hair is as yellow as the sunbeam, and it falls in waves
of glory about his shoulders.
“His robe of blue and gold, is sprinkled with
jewels as the dew sprinkles the green sward in the
early morning time. He speaks, and his voice is
like the tenderest note of music.
“‘Hatsu,’ he says; ‘Hatsu.’ And the birds at
the sound of his voice fly to him, and nestle against
him, as children nestle close to a mother.
“‘Hatsu,’ he says, ‘daughter of Tothmes the
31]
First, draw near without fear, and mount the steps
of the altar, and pass under the folds of the divine
wings, into the sanctuary—the Holy of the Holies—and
be thou not consumed.’ With a cry Miriam rose
and stretched out her arms.
“God of my fathers,” she wailed. “Save her!
save Hatsu! Let no vengeance from any heathen
god fall upon her, because in the madness of her
grief, she has said defiant words! Stay their power,
oh God, to turn Egypt’s hope into the semblance
of some defiled beast or bird.
“She will not ask mercy from them, my strong,
proud Princess! She knows not what fear may
mean! Her eyes are calm, her lips are parted in
a quiet smile; no fate can daunt her!
“As I speak, lo! following the Sun God, she
has passed through the folds! she stands on the
other side of the curtain. It is a bare, plain room.
In the centre of the apartment is set a rude table
and a few chairs. The man with the golden hair
speaks.
“‘Princess,’ he says, ‘I have bidden that you
come thither, that I may speak in your ear, concerning
that, which can no longer be cherished by me
alone. I am, Princess, Zelas, the High Priest of
Osirus.
“‘I am, at your father’s behest, left to guide,
32]
and to guard you, I am left with the power to place
you on the throne of Egypt, a virgin queen.
“‘Full well our late King knew, that his people
could not be ruled over by his eldest son (his sister’s
child) who has not so much wisdom as yonder
gibbering ape, and Ashel, Tothmes the Second’s
mother, the King had discovered to be a creature
of mean cunning, and low covetuousness, and he saw
in your second brother, an artful and ambitious
plotter. Listen, oh Princess, while I rehearse to
you the earth story of Tothmes the first. He was
a born King, a statesman, and a diplomat, from the
earliest day of his reign, Egypt was his constant and
absorbing thought, Her power, Her glory, Her
advancement, his waking theme.
“‘He revolutionized the army, added ships to
the depleted squadrons on the sea, enlarged and
beautified the temple of Ammon, and built the pyramid
of Cheops—thus enabling the Scientists of his
day, to bring to a completion, much that had never
before been deemed possible of demonstration, in
electricity, astronomy, and mathematics.
“‘It was at his bidding, that Egypt, after ten
centuries of isolation, flung wide her gates, and
welcomed to the marts of trade, the commerce of the
outer world.
“‘He encouraged his people to export all their
various manufactured and agricultural products,
33]
urging upon them the wisdom of learning from other
nations, all that was best and most progressive in
the arts and sciences.
“‘Thus it came to pass, that the King took small
heed to his personal surroundings.
“‘Forced to marry—for state reasons—his own
sister, a woman of repulsive appearance, and unlovable
character, the domestic ties weighed lightly upon
him.
“‘Being a scientist, he felt no surprise at the
issue of this marriage.
“‘He knew that if the mating of near kin, is not
thought wise for the horse, and hound, it must perforce
prove disastrous, in humankind.
“‘The other son—a concubine’s child—was
brought into the world in accordance with the wishes
of his ministers of state, who trembled at the thought
of the idiot prince being sole heir to the kingdom.
“‘Thus matters stood, until one day when weary
of the affairs of camp, and court, the King disguised
his royalty, and wandered incognito through the city
of Thebes, and he came at last to the quarter of the
market place, set aside for the slave traders and their
human merchandise.
“‘It was a scene that stirred the great heart with
pity!
“‘The long, low building formed a square of
considerable size, and after mounting a pair of
34]
steps, the King found himself in a hall, around which
ran a platform of wood, encompassing every side of
the apartment.
“‘This platform was divided into pens, shut in
by wooden railings, and in these pens were confined
human beings who were exposed for sale.
“‘These men and women represented life from
earliest infancy to infirm age.
“‘In color they were from the blackest ebony to
the whitest snowdrift.
“‘Walking about were merchants, and buyers,
loudly commenting upon the occupants of the cages.
“‘The black folk for sale, either stared out upon
these buyers, and sellers, with a stolid indifference,
or with closed eyes, seemed wrapt in total oblivion
of their surroundings.
“‘The white men, either paced nervously up and
down their limited enclosure, or sat looking out, with
inquiring eyes, that spoke of a questioning mind.
“‘The white women huddled together in groups,
with their arms entwined and their faces full of silent
sadness.
“‘One of the traders approached a cage within
which the most highly priced group of the market
were confined.
“‘He was followed by a portly, unctuous Egyptian,
whose best years were behind him, and on
35]
whose bestial face was written the story of sensual
indulgence.
“‘The merchant unlocked the door of this cage,
and entering, selected from among the now pale
and trembling group the particular slave that the
fat Egyptian had indicated with his forefinger.
“‘Roughly seizing her by the arm, the merchant
forced her to stand up; then pushing her before him
(with no gentle hand) he brought her out of the
cage—which he carefully re-locked—and bade her
“go to the purchaser.”
“‘The fat Egyptian, surveyed the girl, from head
to foot, to the accompaniment, of the merchant’s
monotonous chanting, of her especial physical charms
and at just the right time, in his oration, he placed one
of his hands, on the back of the girl’s neck, and
with the other he jerked her head to his shoulder,
and pried open the beautiful mouth, calling upon the
purchaser, to examine the whiteness, and the soundness
of her teeth.
“‘He next pinched her neck, and her arms, to
show the firm quality of the flesh.
“‘As the trader drew aside the loose toga of
linen, and displayed the small beautiful breast, the
Egyptian who had before haggled and hesitated,
began to draw out his purse and the girl looking up
and seeing the other man—a man in whose eyes
36]
dwelt compassion for her helplessness—said softly
the one word “Mercy.”
“‘Then a courage born of his sheltering presence,
came to her, and she removed the pin that
held her golden hair and it fell like a mantle of
light, all about her.
“‘The disguised monarch, impelled, by some
strange force spoke:
“‘“Stay thy hand oh buyer,” he said. “Thy
bargain, is not sealed. I bid for this slave a thousand
more pieces of gold, and I will pay as much more
for the little lad, from whose arms she was untwined.”
“‘Whether or not, the Egyptian saw through the
king’s disguise none can tell; but with many profound
saalams, he expressed his willingness, to yield
all claim, and making another appointment with the
dealer, withdrew, leaving the king alone with the
merchant.
“‘“Tell me,” said the King, “of this maiden’s
past? Surely so fair a woman was not born for captivity!”
“‘“No my lord,” answered the slave merchant,
“none of these of the white skin are born slaves. Our
vessels with well-armed crews thread the distant seas
and visit remote lands in search of human gems.
Our men seek some sequestered spot along the coast,
wherein they may hide the ship, then they divide
37]
themselves, into companies, and steal to the main
land, and watch about the villages, and towns until
the husbands and fathers go off to the chase, or to
do battle; then they enter the unprotected settlements,
and securing such among the women and the
children as seem salable, make off with them. It
is a pleasant trade, my lord, and profitable.”’”
CHAPTER V.
38]
“‘That night the white slave slept upon the King
of Egypt’s breast and the boy (her brother) the
king in his pleasure, made such provision for that he
was safe and happy evermore.’”
As Miriam repeated these last words, Alric bent
close, and his eyes seemed to be striving, to find in her
expression some thing that her words did not reveal
to him. “It was a spring song, this last love of
Tothmes the first,” went on Miriam, “for the
blossom he had gathered, could not bear the transplanting,
even though the garden was the home of
a king, and so it came to pass that when her child
was born, Grunheld, in a delirium of fever, that followed
the hours of pain, talked in the language of a
strange people, and one, who stood near—the great
physician of the realm, a man versed in many tongues
told the King,—that she spoke of an island home,
over a great waste of waters, of breeze swept, rain
washed hills, and then laying upon the altar, of some
unknown God, chaplets of prayer,—the King’s love,
passed out of Mizram, and was not.—That she should
not, in her journey of three thousand years, be forced
to abide in the bodies of bird, beast, or reptile, the
King, had her fair form, made ready, for sacred
39]
embalmment, and while the work progressed, there was
no pause for breath, so thick and fast came the
prayers, that the long sleep might not be broken.
“And when the body was wrapped, and the priestly
office for the dead accomplished, they laid the
young stranger, in a rock chamber, and for her comfort,
filled the room with all things needful, for a
soul’s journey should she by chance (in spite of prayer
and charm) awake.
“Then all that human love could do, being accomplished,
the King turned him to his motherless
child, Hatsu.
“Now from her earliest childhood, the Princess
Hatsu was beloved by the people, for in her outward
form, she bore no trace of her alien mother’s
race; her skin was Egypt’s clear transparent olive,
her eyes dark, and langourous, her hair long, smooth,
and easily dyed to the royal color.
“But the soul of Hatsu, was the soul of her
mother, not proud, and distant, was she, like Egypt’s
royal women, but gentle, and kind to all men, reverent
to the Gods, and obedient to those in authority.
“So it was not strange that she was beloved save
by one, and that one the mother of her half brother
the Idiot prince, now, King Tothmes the Second of
Egypt.
“The Idiot prince was her devoted slave, following
her about like a faithful dog, and only showing
40]
glimmerings of intelligence, when his sister addressed
him.
“The other brother,—the concubine’s son,—honored
her too—and though selfish and crafty by nature
he seemed—and seems to this day—her true and
faithful friend.
“This Princess is the story of thy life, until
this hour as it is written in the sacred chronicle of
our most holy order.”
As Zelas has thus spoken our Princess has drawn
nearer, and nearer to his side.
His quiet unmoved voice, has fallen like a benediction
of peace upon her troubled heart. Hope is
springing anew within her breast, and now that he
has ceased, they are looking into each other’s eyes,
she kneels at his feet.
“Holy father,” she says. “I come to thee, in this
my hour of need for council and guidance. Listen
my lord! Standing beside the form of my departing
father, I took solemn oath to Osirus to wed Tothmes
the Second, to be Egypt’s Queen.
“My Lord, it is said, that the great Osirus, has
given to you, the power to read the innermost
thoughts of men. If this be true—small need, to
tell you that the girl kneeling at your feet would joyfully
lay down her young life, and enter the body of
the most degraded thing that walks or crawls. Aye
that she would rather abide in any evil form, through
41]
every hour of the next three thousand years! than
endure one fleeting day, of such life as the coming
Queenship implies.
“My lord, I will speak to you, that which I dare
scarce breathe to my own soul. I know what it is to
love. He, who is dearer to me than aught else in
time, or endless eternity hath not a dream, that this
is so; but, love like mine, is satisfied with the giving,
it asks no more, than just to love silently on, to live
a lonely empty life made fragrant by purity, and sanctified
by prayer. Let me, I pray thee, my Lord, be
committed to some sisterhood. With thy mighty
power save me from the awful doom that Queenship
with my brother Tothmes means.”
Miriam stops, she leans forward, and sways as
though about to fall. “I can see no more,” she
says slowly, “a mist has arisen, my eyes, can not
pierce it. I pray thee, let me rest.”
Alric, white to the lips, made with precision, a
series of passes, before the fixed glassy eyes. His
strong breast heaved, the muscles of his brawny arms
stood out, and drops of sweat beaded his brow. With
a deep sigh, the lips of the girl began to move, and
she said: “I see the lips of the high priest quiver,
there are tears in his God-like eyes, and he has laid
two trembling hands upon Hatsu’s head.
“‘My sister’s child,’ he is saying, ‘gather my
42]
words and garner them deep in your heart, for you
alone I live, for you—if need be—I die.’
“‘To the Idiot you must plight a solemn troth;
but listen, Tothmes the Second, has been taken from
his mother’s side. Never will she speak word to
him more, for ere this, by my command she has entered
one of the nunneries, set apart for holy women,
who night and day, for the enduring glory of Osirus,
keep the lamps, filled with sacred oil, and tend the
temple fires. Princess, thou shall make marriage
vow to Tothmes; but he shall be safe kept, by one
to whom I would trust my life, my all, a man who is
honor’s self! Whose every thought is known to me,
as mine to him, in the hands and under the guidance
of Alric, captain of the King’s guards, I place the
so-called King.’”
A great sob broke from Alric’s throat, and he
made a movement, as though to break the trance, but
the action was so rapid as to almost be lost sight of
in the look of intense resolve the look of indomitable
will that took its place.
“‘If,’ went on Miriam, ‘Tothmes the Second
die, and Tothmes the Third ascend the throne,
thou shalt still, be queen, for over Tothmes the
Third, does Alric hold an influence that is plastic
as meal, and as strong as death. Aye, Hatsu, while
I live, and while Alric lives thou shalt reign in
Egypt. Aye, I swear it!’”
43]
At the echo of his words, which are uttered in
a voice loud and clear, there comes a clash of brazen
instruments of music, and the ear catches the cries,
and the moans, and the twitter, and the coos of the
sacred beasts and birds in the great temple beyond.
Now the temple door creaks on its hinges! and
there comes, the slow muffled droning notes, of a
myriad voices, men’s, and women’s, and the voices
of youths and maidens.
Hatsu has again risen to her feet, her eyes are
bright, a red rose glows in each cheek, and the great
Zelas has bent and kissed her upon her brow.
He is calling the doves that have been fluttering
about the apartment. They come at his bidding,
and he places them upon Hatsu’s shoulders; and
upon her outstretched arms.
Into her hand he has put a great bunch of heliotrope,
and now he sprinkles a strong elixir of catnip
over the hem of the Princess’ gown, and upon her
sandalled feet.
“Go,” he says, “and stand before the people.”
And opening the curtains a little way, he thrusts her
forth! and as the silken folds fall back, behind her,
the people hear the voice! that makes all men, high or
low, rich, or poor, simple, or wise, tremble! the
voice of the awful invisible High Priest Zelas, calling
to them:
44]
“Behold your Queen! Hatsu, beloved of Osirus,
dear to all the Gods, Hatsu, the Queen!”
And there she stands, so young, so fair, so dove
encircled! and all about her are fawning the sacred
cats licking her sandalled feet, and the hem of her
garment, and the people are crying out as with one
voice:
“ALL HAIL TO OUR GODDESS, QUEEN
HATSU!! ALL HAIL!! AMEN AND
AMEN!!”
CHAPTER VI.
45]
As Miriam uttered the last words, Alric replaced
the glass disk that he had been holding, in the bosom
of his toga, he dropped his raised hands, and the
Israelite closed her eyes, and her head fell upon her
breast and she slept.
Then Alric folded his arms and looked at the
girl.
“I would,” he said softly, as to himself, “that
you could know, sweet Miriam, that there is a something
within me, crying ‘Shame, upon this power I
wield;’ but the necessity is great, and fate has made
you the medium by which I may gain my end. I
have sought Egypt for a subject upon whom I might
yield perfect illusory impression, an impression conveyed
by hypnotic suggestion to make me master of
the actions, and spoken words of another, who is the
next link in the human chain to this, my subject.
“Oh, that this occult science, were less feebly
understood in my day! Oh, that I may be re-born
into that to come in the world’s history, when this
power shall be truly a subjective phenomena! a servant
of man! when it shall, in its three stages of
lethargy, somnambulism, and catelepsy, be used for
the good of mankind in the arts of medicine and
46]
surgery, to a time when the priest physician, who
believes in cure through faith, the priest physician
who believes in cure through the cast-off garments of
saints, or the charms of philtre and prayer wheel,
shall be swept away, with the chaff and the dross!
A time when the priest physician shall be the scientist,
who can understand the harmony of the unseen, and
apply it to the daily and hourly life conditions, and
needs.
“How far,—now having found my medium—shall
I be able to use her?
“I must take this woman into my own life. If
she were any other than the property of the Princess,
my gold and influence could buy her, as it is I must
ask her from Hatsu. Not in the marriage of a master
to a concubine, but through all the sacred Egyptian
rights of vow and ring. Yes, I shall wed you,
Miriam, and you will love me, and in the fullness of
time you will bear me a son. Aye, carry it under
your heart, and bring it forth unconscious of your
motherhood. For I will keep you in entrancement
through those days and safe hid from all eyes save
Hatsu’s and my own, and when the time has been accomplished
Hatsu shall take the child, and holding
it before the people, proclaim it her son and heir!
“That Zelas is true to me, I now know, beyond all
doubt. Zelas, Hatsu’s uncle! Of what sad comminglings
are we made! my soul and heart are crying
47]
out in pity, and yet my mortal mind, my scholar’s
questioning, urges me on——”
But—he pauses—his quick ear detects a footstep—and
looking up he sees coming slowly toward him
the Princess.
She walks with her lithe young body held erect, as
though the generations of poising the urn upon the
shoulder, had made a graceful carriage of the body,
an Egyptian woman’s distinguishing characteristic.
As she draws still nearer, Alric kneels, and with
bowed head awaits her command, “to rise.”
“Faithful Friend,” said the sweet low voice “rejoice
with me, my mission has prospered, on the
morrow I go out of this city of sorrow, to meet, and
to greet my sovereign lord, the King; my husband,
that is to be.”
Alric took the hem of the Princess’ robe, and
touched it to his lips.
“All hail sovereign Queen!” he said softly.
“Egypt’s sun by day, her moon by night.”
It was merciful, that he could not see the look
of hungry, wistful woman’s love, that she bent upon
him, kneeling there; but he could hear, the quick
fluttering breaths. He could see the jewelled hands,
held tight against her beating heart.
“My queen,” he said, “here among your sacred
dead, I give my life, to your service.”
He had risen and they were looking into each
48]
other’s faces; then, as if recalling Miriam for the
first time, the princess with anxious eyes sought her
maid, and seeming in one glance, to realize what
Alric had done, her pale face flushed, and her gray
eyes showed angry light.
“How dare you trifle, with that which is most
precious to me!” she said.
“Quick undo the spell that binds her! Miriam!
sister! Hatsu calls! Awake!”
But Miriam slept on, and something in the unbroken
silence of the man beside her, made Hatsu
turn imploringly to him.
“Surely my lord,” she said. “You who know
how dear Miriam is to me, can not hurt or wrong
me through her! surely you know, that should this
wanton act of yours, ever come to her, with the
added knowledge, that I did not reprove you most
severely, Miriam would turn from me, in scorn preferring
torture and death, to serving so false and
thankless a mistress.”
“My Princess listen! No idle impulse has led to
this unnatural slumber, in which you find Miriam,
it has been induced, that I might gain the one chance,
the only chance perhaps in our present life, to speak
with you alone.”
“You are bold my lord!”
“Aye but not so bold, as to do aught but prove
to you my loyalty. ’Tis true it is but seldom, oh
49]
gracious bride of Tothmes the Second, that a subject
forces upon the ear of his sovereign queen, his
personal confidence and seeks the aid of the throne
itself, to further his selfish aims, and ambitions! yet
I Alric, venture into this untrodden path, and ask
your interest, and may hap (since you have a gentle
heart) your sympathy. Know then future queen, that
at the court of Tothmes the Second—and very close
to his throne—my soul lives, for it is there, the only
woman I have ever loved, shall abide.
“She is by birth and station, so far above me, that
to love her, is like loving a star in heaven! but oh
queen (that is to be) such love as mine knows no
repining, because the object of its worship is beyond
mortal possession! love such as mine, finds only joy
in the thought that eons of what we call time, may
stretch out, before I can take unto myself this other
self but while I wait I can serve.
“Listen! In and about the court of Tothmes the
Second, lurk unnumbered dangers, for my love. All
that I crave at the queen’s hands, is the power, to
stand her sentinel, to guard her night, and day, day,
and night, so long as my time on the earth continues.”
He ceased to speak, and stood in respectful attitude,
awaiting her reply.
“Love, that is faithful, pure, and true, is a gift
from the Gods, my lord,” she said. “And the woman
that calls forth this affection (who e’er she
50]
be) should feel that nothing earth or heaven could
give, could crown her with more honor or more glory,
aye, for love like this she should gladly renounce all
else; speak on my lord.”
“My princess, there is but one way, through, and
by which, I may serve my love, there is but one way
in which I can guard her, and it comes through a
gift from you to me. On the day in which you wed
yonder great, and sainted King, give me as wife not
as slave, but as free woman Miriam.”
With a cry the Princess, all unmindful of past,
and future, with no thought of Queenship, or of station,
flung her arms about the neck of the man, and
nestled close to him so that her warm lips touched his
brown throat.
“Not that!” she moaned, “not that! Ask from
me any other woman high, or low, rich, or poor,
bound, or free! and she is yours but not Miriam!
“I have loved her, and she has loved me, and
she knows my soul, she has read my most sacred
thoughts. If,” (she cried looking up into his face)
“if I thought, that she had been false to me, if I
thought, that she had dared to love you! if I thought
that you loved her, I would kill her as she sleeps,
and then thrust the wet blade, into my own heart.”
He took the girl’s arms from about his neck, and
laid her head upon his breast. He drew her close to
him, and bent down and kissed her lips—he said words
51]
to her that only complete possession justifies, and
she answered with the silence of acceptance, the silence
of unspoken gladness. How long they stood
thus, locked in each others’ arms, they never knew,
for time and place are not spiritual attributes, and
they had been lifted above the finite. It was Miriam
stirring in her sleep, that came to be the Angel with
the Sword, to drive them out, of their Eden! and
the woman, wrapped her naked heart, in a mantle
of crimson blushes, and the man rudely thrust away
the light frail form, and fled to Miriam’s side, and
by a few passes kept back still—a little longer—her
returning consciousness.
Hatsu was the first to speak.
“My lord,” she said quietly, “ask your gift at
my hands, and she shall be thine.”
CHAPTER VII.
52]
Miriam had begun to stir, she raised her head,
opened her eyes, and rubbed them sleepily as a child
does in the early morning; then, she looked up, and
saw Alric standing beside her.
“You were saying to me, my lord, ‘I vow to be
loyal to Hatsu;’ but, we were both standing!” she
looked perplexed, then troubled; “did I swoon,
my lord?”
Alric laid one of his hands, with the freedom of a
free man on the beautiful shoulder of the slave, with
his other arm he drew her to him. With a mighty
effort, she loosed herself from his hold, her face
deadly pale, her nostrils distended.
“My lord,” she said slowly, “do not lay so much
as the tip of your finger upon me!”
“As you will,” he said, shrugging his shoulders;
“but in answer to your question, Miriam, you did
not swoon, but fell asleep here, alone with me! it
will not be the last time my pretty one, that this shall
befall you, for I am to receive you as wife, from our
princess on the day in which she weds her brother
the king.”
Miriam said no word, she only looked at him as
though she strove to read his soul.
53]
“My lord,” she said at last, “the Princess will
never grant this request, she knows full well that in
all this land, none is so faithful as her Miriam; she
knows that I have almost ceased to mourn the captivity
of my people, because she is so dear to my heart.
My lord, I shall be no wife to you, I am a slave, and it
ill becomes me to say nay to one so high in authority,
but my lord it can not be because I——”
Alric had stepped close to her. “I do not care
for your why’s, and wherefores,” he said haughtily,
“it is because you are so loyal, to the Princess, it is
because I am bound body and soul to her service,
that you must come to me. Thus only can the queen
be sure to keep you beside her, enemies might, spirit
away an Israelitish bondwoman; but who is there
that would touch the free wife of Alric, the beloved
and adopted son of Zelas, the great high priest. So
there is nothing but your death, that can prevent this
union of ours, and I scarcely think your aversion to
me, can be so great, as for you to take that road to
balk my wishes.” A ring of command sounded in
his voice as he added, “Girl, I come of a race who,
when they woo a maid, win her! a few days hence,
with ring bell and pomgranate, will I wed you and in
my city house, and on my estates amid the lake country
you will reign a free woman, when your duties
upon the Princess permit of your absence from service
upon Her Highness.”
54]
“I am a slave,” answered Miriam, “and it ill
becomes me to say aught, to the man, that has power
to take me out of bondage, and make me free. I do
not lack in gratitude to you my lord, and for the
Princess, I would gladly lay down my life, only I
fancied I——”
“Again I bid you pause,” interrupted Alric; “telling
one’s thoughts, is not often wise. Accept thou
that which the Gods provide, Miriam; not troubling
much. You are to be mine! and knowing this, be
content; but, for your enduring comfort let me repeat,
that this marriage of ours only cements your nearness
to the woman that you adore,—and who adores
you—I am to be the constant companion of the King;
you of the Queen.”
“The King!” again Miriam’s eyes searched his
face “then after all, it is to be, this dreadful wedding!
that shall mate beauty to the beast!”
For answer Alric pointed to the Princess, who now
appeared at the turning of the road close at hand,
and smiling hastened toward them.
There were tears glittering in the soft dark eyes
of Hatsu, as she drew Miriam to her breast and
kissed her brow.
“My sister,” she said, “those that rule the destinies
of Egypt, have taken knowledge of Miriam the
Israelite, and knowing that she is without spot or
blemish, pure as the whitest flower, guileless as the
55]
newborn child, they bid Miriam live in unquestioning
submission, the life that is pointed out to her
by Hatsu, and Alric; and in some future state where
love and ambition mean the highest, and the best,
then may Hatsu and Alric open wide their souls and
lay the secret burden of motive and purpose at
Miriam’s feet, and may she find it in her heart to
forgive them, and love them still.
“I go dear Miriam, from hence, on the morrow,
to meet and to wed my lord; and now the hour
being late let us hasten back to the palace, that we
may be ready for our journey.”
CHAPTER VIII.
56]
“Some force, that is resistless, doth command
me to on this night, take pen and papyrus page, and
write upon it, much that fills my mind. I seem impelled
to speak words concerning the lives of those
among whom destiny has placed me. Keen as my
memory is to-day, time will dull it, and thereby cause
me to lose my hold upon some of the threads, that
are useful to me, in solving the enigma of men, and
the motives that govern them.
“I am possessed of a series of hieroglyphics, whose
meaning is known but to a few wise men in the civilized
world; so I may safely speak upon this page,
and first I choose to describe myself.
“I was born—a posthumous child—in the house of
my paternal grandsire, he was one of the most
learned of Syria’s priesthood; a man who had lived
so much, and so long in an atmosphere of spiritual
conditions, that he scarcely seemed of earth.
“His food consisted of a few herbs, and roots,
he drank naught save water, which he bent down to
receive with his lips from the spring itself.
“Of my father I know little; my mother was a
gentle inoffensive soul; one of those negative
57]
creations, that pass through a state of being, making it
neither better nor worse for the impress.
“I was born in the spring time, and at the evening
hour—when twilight goes to meet the night.
“A strange phenomenon was taking place! Upon
our land of mildest and balmiest clime had come a
bitter cold, and a white frozen rain poured from the
sky and covered the ground.
“Scarce had I uttered my first wail, than the midwife
heard close beside me, the warbling of an unseen
bird, and all about me (while it continued to
sing) there was a nimbus of light, bright and star
like.
“This condition, or occurrence, was repeated for
several days at the same hour, and for the same space
of time, and my grandsire who was present, after
the first demonstration, prophesied that I should be
able to control to my will, the destinies of all with
whom I came in contact, so long as mind, governed
my decisions, and not sentiment; he said that my
danger would lay in the power that two women
should possess over me.
“When I had arrived at an age to permit of instruction,
my grandsire carried me away from the city
and we abode many days in the desert.
“So keen was my sense of the occult, that it took
but little space of time, for me to grasp, all that he
had to teach, and when I questioned why it was, that
58]
what had taken him seventy years to acquire, came
to me in as many days, he made answer in these
words:
“‘Know oh Alric—beloved of my soul—that thy
form alone is mortal, all thy senses are quickened by
the spirit. Love and hate, joy, and sorrow, shall not
touch thee. All this, did I knew before I saw thy
face, while still thy mother cherished thee beneath
her heart.’
“Then my grandsire told me he had been warned
in a dream, that he was soon to be called to lay
aside the garment of the flesh, for a robe of light—that
he was to proceed to a higher circle of doing,
and being, and, it had been given him to prophesy to
me, that Tothmes the First the great King of Egypt,
would shortly arrive in Syria, that he should be
drawn to me by chords of love, and fatherly affection,
that he should ask me, of the King, and of my
grandsire, promising I should be reared as his own
son, and even taking his kingly oath, that upon my
arrival at manhood’s time, I should, under the order
of the great high Priest Zelas, be invested with
power as an officer in the King of Egypt’s army.
“And even so it came to be. I Alric lived beside
the good King, and sat at the feet of Zelas, the high
Priest, and learned of him. He,—Zelas—taught me
priestly law, and I in return taught him to love me
as a son.
59]
“The two princes, the Idiot (who is King to-day)
and the scholar (who shall be King in some to-morrow)
I hold in my thrall! and Hatsu what shall I
say of the Princess? Is she one of the women, of
whom my grandsire spoke? and what of Miriam?
“Only time shall tell.”
End of Part First.
PART II. — CHAPTER I.
61]
Eighteen times has the year been born, grown
old, and died, since in the vaulted sarcophagus, in
the city of Abydos Hatsu, Miriam, and Alric, stood
and spoke with one another.
In the great scrolls that chronicled the history of
Egypt’s national life, one can read how after leaving
the city of Abydos, with her retinue, the princess
journeyed to the royal city, where to meet her, reposing
in a golden chariot, came King Tothmes the
Second.
You will read how the Princess alighting from
her chariot, went on foot, to the King, then, kneeling
upon the earth kissed with her red lips, his sandalled
feet and the hem of his robe.
That, when she then arose, she was so wan, that
those who beheld her feared lest death would snatch
her from her bridegroom’s arms!
You will read, how the mighty sovereign Tothmes
the Second, recognizing in Hatsu, his long absent
sister, clapped his hands, and laughed for joy, and
then of how the trumpets pealed! and the bells
rang out!
62]
You will read that the wedding day dawned, and
that great was the splendor of the raiment wherewith
all the court were decked, of how the High
Priest Zelas stood for the first time before the people
and because of the exceeding glory, and brightness
of his presence how some were stricken blind
and some fell dead.
You will read how peace and prosperity filled the
land, how all industries flourished. How the sainted
king, and his sister, the queen, lived in perfect happiness.
Their only sorrow being, that no child came
to them.
And how at last, after many years, the prayers of
the faithful and holy ones, were answered. For
Queen Hatsu walked upon the upper court of her
palace holding out to the people her hour old son.
You will read of the joy with which Egypt welcomed
this child and then it will be seen that the
little Prince grew and throve and was his father’s
constant playmate and companion.
You will read how all that pertained to the dealings
with foreign nations was entrusted to Alric,
Mizram’s great general. And how in the campaigns
into Punt, and the far regions beyond, the Queen,
Hatsu, led the Army, fighting like a man in the field,
and sharing the brunt of war with her soldiers. Thus
was it, until the time of which we now shall speak.
CHAPTER II.
63]
The city residence of Alric, general in command
of Their Majesties’ forces, was within the palace enclosure.
The house was two stories in height, the ground
being used for the servants’ quarters, offices, store-rooms,
and the like, while the upper floor, was divided
into commodious apartments and the flat top
roof covered with linen awnings, forming a luxurious
roof garden, where the master, his family and friends,
were wont to spend their waking hours after sunset,
for in Egypt the storms are so infrequent, that
only once or twice in a hundred years is there any
down pouring.
The structure of the house, was of burnt brick,
and built in the form of a quadrangle. In the center
was a court, laid out in walks that were bright with
beds of flowers, and foliage plants, all glistening
with the spray, thrown upon them by innumerable
fountains. There too, were tanks full of brilliant
colored, swiftly darting fish, and pools where the
Lotus blossoms, (flower and leaf,) grew and throve
casting a penetrating sweetness upon the air.
The stairway (as in all Egyptian mansions) was
upon the outer side of the building, the floors were
64]
of some composite material and formed into squares
of red and blue checker work, over which were laid
rugs of white fur and large mats of colored camel’s
hair. About the rooms were scattered chairs, and
divans, and tables of exquisite workmanship, the
woods wonderfully polished and inlaid with gold and
precious stones. And the chairs and lounges were
cushioned and upholstered in rich silken stuffs.
In the dining hall stood a huge sandal wood side-board
not at all unlike in its fashioning, those used
in houses a century ago and on this side-board were
ranged golden flagons holding choice wines and
cordials, golden filigree baskets, filled with fruits
and flowers, golden goblets, and loving cups, golden
ewers (or finger bowls) and delicate pottery; and
there too, were to be found knives, and forks, and
spoons.
In this room were many little round tables covered
with dainty linen cloths of purest white, beautifully
embroidered about their edges in representation
of roses, ferns, fruits, or berries.
The walls were hung with trophies of the chase
(for the Egyptian gentlemen were great hunters—and
fishermen too) and in this dining room in the
city house of Alric some famous artist had painted
on the ceiling allegorical figures representing Pleasure,
Plenty, and Hospitality; in this room as in all
65]
the others there was a charcoal stove because during
the year there are chilly days in Egypt.
Then there was the Library where on shelf after
shelf, lay the papyrus and parchment scrolls holding
a wealth of literature the science, history, poetry
and fiction of many centuries.
Beyond the Library after passing through a stone
court one came to the bath. This was a high ceilinged
apartment sweet and cool and fragrant and in
its centre was set a deep pool of ever running water.
All along the walls of this room were closets in
which every article necessary for the bath was to
be found. Brushes soft and hard, rough, and smooth,
towels, ungents, oils, powders, perfumes and bags
of brans and spices. This was not simply a luxury
as in Egypt the preservation of health made it necessary
to bathe at least five times daily.
Seated at a table in his Library was the General
in Chief of the Egyptian army and about him were
gathered his staff.
Time had dealt kindly with Alric; his clear skin
showed no wrinkling, his mouth was still firm, his
lips red, his hair (worn in the fashion of his youthful
days) was thick and lustrous although it showed
the touch of frost here and there, but there was in
the stern firm face of the general no reminder of
the merry captain of the guards.
“Have you heard my lord,” said one of the officers
66]
leaning forward, “that our King’s new ships
are exciting the admiration of all foreign nations?”
“Why should they not?” cries another. “Who
ever before had ships propelled at the same time by
both oars and sails! each ship requiring thirty rowers
and seventy sailors to man her?”
“Is it true,” asks another, “that an expedition is
soon to be sent out to Punt to procure spice trees
for our Botanical gardens?”
“Let us hope,” adds a handsome fellow, “that
the ugly old Queen will not make this an opportunity
to pay us another visit! never did I behold such a
human monstrosity!”
“But I have later news still,” says another, taking
as he speaks his cigarette from his lips and watching
the smoke curl lazily up.
“Our chancellor of state has by the King’s command,
ordered that the supply of straw shall no
longer be brought to the brick yards hereafter, the
Israelites must gather their own straw when the
day’s stint is over.”
A man with a cynical face broke in upon his
neighbor’s talk. “This is done,” he said, “to give
these strangers less time for rest, and if possible
weaken their bodily force.”
“It is true,” said another, “that they breed like
lice and that the providing of grain and other
produce for the consumption of the Israelites,
67]
depletes the granaries of Mizram at least one half.”
“As for their appetites,” said Alric smiling, “I will
not gainsay that they are a hearty people, and why
should they not be hungry? Surely the bread of
the laboring man should be sweet, but my dear Belthazur,
I can not agree to the Lord Chancellor’s
dictum as regards prolificness, for my wife Miriam
is an Israelite, and no child has blessed our bed lo!
these many years.”
“I did not know, my lord,” said the young officer
blushing hotly, “that my Lady Miriam was an
Israelite. I am from a distant Nome, and but a
few years in the King’s service, and so I beg you,
pardon me.”
“Tut, tut,” said the General, smiling kindly upon
the young soldier, “the Lady Miriam is an individual
Israelite, and we speak of the people, so I pray you
go on.” “To me,” said another, “it is exasperating
to see how humbly, how uncomplainingly these
foreigners take every new infliction; if they even
murmured, there might be something interesting in
it, but by the gods! they say no word and bow lower
and lower in quiet humility under each burden.”
“And,” added another, “go on increasing more
rapidly than ever.”
“But,” said one who had not yet spoken, “none
can call them coward or weakling who ever knew
68]
an Israelite to forsake his faith, he may be bound
and forced into a bodily submission, but his soul, he
keeps loyal and steadfast to the service of his one
God, Jehovah.”
“Yes,” said the cynical man, “had they been less
obstinate in their religious beliefs doubtless through
their women, Israel could long since have gained
freedom and have been allowed to depart, for where
can one find such beautiful women or such prudes?
Isis should by rights turn them into cats! It would
be an easy matter as their claws are already made.”
A general laugh followed, and many were the
mirthful questions put to the rather confused officer.
“What you say respecting the loyalty of the
Israelites for their religion is true,” said the General.
“The Lady Miriam was a slave to the Princess
Hatsu, and by her presented to me as free wife
upon the royal wedding day. She hath been in all
things loyal and obedient, faithful and true, but she
has reared no altar in my home save to the one God,
and that altar is within her heart.”
“Was the Queen’s mother an Israelite?” asks
one. “I have heard it so said, because of the young
Prince’s likeness to that race.”
“Nay, nay,” answered Alric. “The Queen’s
mother came from far to the northward, where she
told her husband (the King) there fell through many
69]
moons of the year a rain, that was white, and lay
like a carpet of purity over the brown earth.”
“There were those,” says the cynical man, “when
the Queen Hatsu appeared upon her balcony, an hour
after the birth of her son, with the child in her
arms, that did question the truth of her having given
Egypt an heir, but they were foreign born and from
afar, and did not know that Egyptian women resent
with scorn the plaint of child-bed weakness and such
dalliance, and so rise at once the pang is spent, to
fulfill their housewifely ministrations.”
“And, by the way,” quoth another, “what ever
did become of the boy, the child that the King
Tothmes the first bought at the same time as he
did Queen Hatsu’s mother?”
“That will never be known,” said Alric quietly.
“It is a secret that the King buried with his own
body. There is a tale (I cannot vouch for its truth)
that once upon a time, in answer to this same question,
one (who was doubtless demented, or addled
with wine) did say that the child became in time our
great High Priest Zelas, but on the morrow this
man was found lying dead and no one doubts that
the wrath of Osirus overtook him! but let us leave
these unsolvable speculations, and return to the
Israelites. I doubt the wisdom of their retention.”
“Let me speak to your question most noble General.”
It was a new voice—the voice of the youngest
70]
son of Tothmes the first, brother to the reigning
King.
“We should miss the skilled labor of the Israelites.
In a thousand industrial ways they pay amply
for their keep.”
CHAPTER III.
71]
Even as he speaks there is a shuffling of feet heard,
and into the room led by a beautiful child—a boy
of eight years old—comes a something that makes
even the strong men present involuntarily shrink, as
they all rise and bow low before it.
The creature is robed in white and scarlet, and
on his brow there is fitted a crown of gold, glittering
with diamonds, and rubies, emeralds and pearls.
His protruding, wandering eyes have a blank stare,
his full, wide open, drooling lips are mumbling
something, but he has a firm grasp on the child’s
hand, and the child leads him.
“It is the King,” cries a sweet treble voice. “The
King, my father, and we have run away from our
good Miriam, for we are tired of our clay dolls,
are we not, my father?”
“Are we not, my father; are we not, my father?”
mumbles the idiot, and then looking into the child’s
face, he falls into a fit of immoderate laughter and
in the midst of it a woman enters. Although long
past youth she is as slight as a girl, typically Egyptian
in feature and coloring. She has about her
something individual and distinctive and she is clad
in a costume that is masculine in most of its make-up.
72]
Her upper garment is a tightly-fitting waist, with
a full skirt that reaches just to below the knee and
made of bright scarlet stuff. Over this she wears
a corslet of finely wrought, flexible gold that clings
to her slight, beautiful figure like a glove. In lieu
of sleeves she is literally covered by bands of diamonds
from forearm to wrist. A broad collar of
diamonds encircles her throat. Upon her head is a
cap, sewn thick with jewels, and her feet and legs
are encased in sandals and leggins like those worn
by the officers of the Egyptian army.
As she enters the men salute her as their superior
officer. She in return lifts one of her small hands to
her jeweled cap in token of recognition.
Thus she passes on until she reaches the side of
the King, when, laying her hand firmly upon his
shoulder, she says some gentle words to him that
stay his mirth, that transform him, for his leering
grin gives place to a solemn closing of the thick lips
over the great wolfish teeth, and, seating himself in
a chair he says slowly and distinctly: “Hatsu, the
Goddess Queen, will speak my wishes”; but his
eyes look longingly at the boy, beside his chair, the
sunny-haired boy, whose hand is still clasped within
his own—the little Prince, his son, who nestles his
golden head against his mother’s gown.
“The King,” says Queen Hatsu gravely, “the
great King Tothmes the Second, my saintly husband,
73]
bids me speak lest the effort of words too much weary
his great mind.
“He wishes that among ourselves (as among
trusted and bosom friends) we speak fully concerning
the Israelites, and that this might be the better
accomplished he has called to private audience the
two learned men who have of late come out of
Midian to plead Israel’s cause with Egypt. One
of these men has strong claim to the throne’s affection,
for our late lamented father and King had a
twin sister, whom he fondly loved. This sister did
take from the Nile’s bosom an infant, and yearning
toward it as a mother yearns for her child, the
Princess made the waif her own and reared him as
a prince of the land; great of mind was this adopted
son; his play was study, his friends the sages; gentle
and good was he, slow to anger and of much compassion,
but silent was he because of a faltering in his
speech. So grew he into early manhood, then on
a sudden he vanished. Egypt knew him no more.
’Tis said the Princess sped his going and being an
Israelite he returned to his own. Now he has come
again into Egypt and with him is his brother, Aaron,
to make plea for the loosing of his people. We would
have this matter speedily settled, that we may turn
our thoughts upon more important matters, for you
will recall that we have sent an embassy to her most
gracious highness the Queen of Punt, asking her to
74]
be again our guest, and we must bring her thither in
all pomp and honor, and it ill becomes us to make
her a witness to the wailings of the Israelites.”
She has never let her eyes wander from the face of
the King, as she has spoken, nor does she lift them
when Alric says: “Gracious Queen and sovereign
lady, who is there in Egypt that shall dispute the
wisdom of our sainted sovereign, and surely we all
know that people everywhere in the land are saying
that the man Moses, and his brother, Aaron, come
to Mizram vested with more than human power,
that shall make Egypt suffer if she refuse to let
Israel go.”
A voice interrupts Alric. It is the calm, clear
voice of the King’s brother. “The King,” he says
haughtily, “is all powerful! His will prevails. He
rules Egypt’s night as well as Egypt’s day. He
need not fear harm through the threats of Moses
and Aaron. Superstition and ignorant fear have no
place with Egypt’s King and Egypt’s councillors!
Let us bid Gethro’s son go back to his sheep! let
him seek among the Midian hills a weakly race that
listens trembling to old housewives’ prophecies! Nay,
nay, we should be mad to rid ourselves of such skilled
workmen. My lord King, speak thou to these foolish
ones and say Israel shall abide.”
It was Hatsu who replied: “It is well,” she
said slowly, “that we have one among us so keen
75]
for the welfare and interest of his brother the King
and for the little Prince, the King that is to be, and
while all the words that thou hast spoken are wise,
the King shall, in his own good time, say HIS royal
will.” It was at this juncture that the child spoke.
“My mother,” he said, “how can the Israelites
do good work for Egypt when they are being
famished and beaten? and why do you, my good
uncle, wish to bring suffering upon our dear Miriam,
for Miriam is an Israelite? She does not worship
the many gods of Egypt! I am the Prince Royal,
the great King’s only son, and I would make my
father say that Israel shall go!”
As the child began his speech the idiot had leaned
forward in his chair and a light came into his dull
eyes, a something of intelligence, as he replied: “Let
Israel go! Let Israel go!”
But what had come to the Queen? Was she for
all her soldierly bearing a wilful woman? Surely no
other motive could have so changed the current of
her purpose! surely it was that which made her happening
by chance to look into the General’s eyes to
say:
“Child, child, hold thy peace! It is the great
King’s will that Israel shall not go, but go on to
bitterer bondage, to a more intense servitude.” “But,
my mother, listen!” cried the child, “he said go,
and not go on.” It was then Miriam entered and
76]
Hatsu turned wearily to her saying: “Take him
hence. His ceaseless prattle disturbs the Monarch’s
great thought.”
It was some power, mightier than man, that made
the silent, gentle Miriam answer: “My Queen,
fail not to remember, that out of the mouths of
babes comes perfect wisdom, God’s own truth! Thy
son is a prophet! Listen to his plea ere it be too
late! for the wrath of Jehovah, when it is kindled,
does not quench till His will is done! The wrath
of the God of Israel shall ere long darken this land!
Hark, ye! has all your years of binding broken our
strength? Our children wax strong! our cattle multiply!
Listen to wisdom ere it be too late! listen to
the great King’s counsel! and let Israel go!” Then
in the profound stillness, she stretched out her hand
to the child, who, disentangling his other hand with
much effort from his father (who was only stayed
from following in obedience to some whispered words
of the Queen), the two departed.
CHAPTER IV.
77]
Then it was that Hatsu spoke. “Bring in the
prophets of Israel,” she said, “that they may hear
the King’s decree and so waste no more time in idle
hoping.”
And into the apartment were ushered two men.
Both were far past middle life. One was small
and thin, with pinched features and bright, gray
eyes; the other was tall and grandly formed, and
both were in the garb of shepherds.
They stood two mute figures before the chair of
Tothmes the Second, and although it was the custom
of the age to bend low the knee before sovereignty,
neither man did aught save to wait his bidding.
It was the Princess Hatsu who addressed them.
“We have bidden you to come hither,” she said,
“that you might, oh great Poet and Lawgiver of
Israel, speak with the freedom of a friend to us, of
that, which has brought you back after many years
into Egypt.”
It was Aaron who spoke. Yet while his sweet,
strong voice told the story, the eyes of all were fixed
upon the silent lips of Moses.
“Great Queen of Egypt,” began Aaron (and all
remembered that to the poor idiot he addressed never
78]
a word). “There stands before you on this day,
an instrument of the Almighty. One who by the will
of the All Powerful, shall in time, rear out of ruins
and ashes, out of ignorant, broken-spirited slaves, a
great and enduring nation; a people that shall live
with the riches of this globe when Egypt is but a
faded memory. Of this glory that is to be, Moses
is promised no portion, and no place, and being
meekest of all men that are upon the face of the
earth, he is satisfied to be the humblest servant of his
Lord. There is for him no glory but the glory of
God. Moses has dwelt always, in spirit, in Egypt.
He has never day or night ceased to think upon the
bondage of his people. And who knows the purposes
of Mizram better than this son of Israel that
stands before you. He is the adopted son of
Pharaoh’s great daughter. Aye it is from out of
the tenderness of his heart for his adopted mother,
and his adopted kinsmen, that he has pleaded with
the God of Israel to stay His hand, that he might
warn Egypt of the woes that shall before long befall
her if she still holds Israel in thrall. Therefore he
asks, oh gracious Queen, that thou loosen the cords,
and open the gates, and bid thy bondsmen depart
in peace.”
“Spare thy prayer.” It was the King’s brother
that spoke. “We fear not thy one God, so hurl
thy threats quickly that we may laugh them to scorn.”
79]
There was no look of anger in the gentle face,
and no tone of bitterness in the strong, sweet voice
that said:
“Our God hath thus spoken to Moses, His
Prophet: ‘Oh thou, who feedest thy flocks beside
the green pastures, and the still waters, arise and
get thee down into Egypt, and take with thee Aaron,
thy brother, that he may speak for thee, and say
thou, unto her, who holds the hearts of her people
in the hollow of her woman’s hand: “Hear, oh
Egypt, harken unto the voice of the God of Israel.
Lo! behold! the cry of Israel has reached the Mercy
Seat and the wailing must cease.” Thus saith the
Lord. “Or most surely Egypt shall learn the power
of the Most High.”’
“Hark, ye, oh Queen, an army shall fall upon
Egypt and devour her substance; its ranks shall be
unseen; its warriors shall be called famine, fever,
pestilence and death. Take thou our challenge, oh
stubborn of heart, for we two standing unarmed,
save for our shepherd’s staffs, shall alone abide unharmed
in your midst when the will of our God shall
be accomplished to the uttermost. Aye, not one hair
of our heads shall ye touch for we are the anointed
of Heaven. Listen, oh Queen, the princes of this
world come to naught! Kingdoms fall and are forgotten,
but the glory of the God of Israel remaineth
forever. Once, yet again, for the love he bears the
80]
home of his youth, for the land that heard his first
cry, does Moses plead: Oh Mizram, loose thy vain
pride and let Israel go.”
“And who is thy God?” (It was Alric who
spoke.) “Show us some sign by which we may be
convinced of his power.”
Then the silent Moses lifted a small, lithe rod,
which he held in one of his hands, and, lo! it was
a rod no longer; but a serpent, the enemy of man!
And it gazed with hungry eyes and spake with a
hissing tongue! Then Alric drew from out his tunic
a similar rod and it, too, changed into a scorpion,
larger and fiercer than that, which the man Moses
had created, and these two accursed objects, viewing
each other, forgot man, and engaged in mortal combat
the one with the other, and, lo! the serpent of
Moses swallowed the serpent of Alric, and so doing,
vanished.
With a laugh Alric threw down his wand.
“Thy skill, oh free Israelite,” he said, “exceedeth
mine. What say you of this power as a test of
the God of Israel’s might to perform upon Egypt,
that which He threatens?”
The Prince had watched with keenest interest
and he now replied, rather than the Princess: “No
test of foolish magic will move our King from his
purpose, believe me. I speak both the will of the
King and his sainted Queen, when I say Israel will
81]
abide in Egypt,” and as though hushed by a power
that she could not baffle, while her heart and soul
were filled with protest, Hatsu held her peace.
Then Aaron spoke: “But Israel shall go and
Egypt shall open her gates and cry, ‘Depart, depart,
ere the remnant of us be lost forever.’ Listen! In
some near at hand day, Nature shall break no law,
when she makes this fair land a chaos of misery!
Your rivers and lakes shall be like unto blood, and
the fish that is in them shall die and the people shall
turn away with loathing, though their throats be
parched and their thirst be intolerable. Then shall
the waters breed frogs, and they shall be tame in their
boldness, and go up into the houses, and consume
all that there is therein, from the fair hangings on
the palace walls, to the dough in the humblest
dwellers’ kneading troughs, and then if my people
be not free, the dust of the land shall become fleas,
and lice, and these shall fall upon man and beast
and devour their bodies while they yet live, and then
if wisdom comes not to thee, oh Egypt, there shall
rise swarms of flies that shall buzz and sting without
ceasing and a murrain shall come on thy beasts,
the cattle and the horses and the camels, the oxen
and the sheep, and a boil shall follow, breaking forth
with blains upon man and beast! Then upon Egypt
a tempest shall fall, whose like was never known—a
tempest of hail that shall cut like a sword of fire
82]
that shall kill—of wind that howls, and tears, and
destroys; and the hail shall smite the field, and the
fire from heaven shall consume the cattle, and every
green thing shall die! The trees shall perish! The
flax shall be useless for the loom! The barley shall
give no yield! Then shall come the locusts, singing
a mournful song! They shall cover all things that
be left, and then, be ye warned, if thou still vaunt
thyself, there shall come a midnight wherein all the
first born of the land shall die! The first born of
Pharaoh that sitteth upon the throne and the first
born of the lowliest in the realm! No hearth shall
be spared! Listen, oh Queen! give heed to my word,
oh councillors! for what the Lord saith that will He
surely perform.”
It was with the same relentlessness that the Queen
made answer:
“Go back, Shepherd Prophets, to your flocks and
herds! Your threatenings we do not heed! In the
name of King Tothmes the Second of Egypt, I bid
you depart, and wish you peace.” The great Lawgiver
felt, as the queen spoke, a hand upon his robe,
and looking down beheld it in the grasp of the
fingers of the idiot King. And he heard softly, but
distinctly, these words: “Let Israel go! Let Israel
go!” And it stirred in his grand soul a tender pity.
“Israel shall go,” he said gently, “and thy will
(which thy people feign to misinterpret) is remembered
83]
in love, by the God of all the earth. Egypt
shall harden her heart, and the sorrows of her sin
shall fall upon her; but when Israel goes out thy
soul shall go, too, and, leaving its poor tenement of
clay, will inherit a better kingdom, wherein our God
shall give thee light.”
CHAPTER V.
84]
In one of the summer houses—or arbors—of the
King’s garden, Miriam sat that day as the sun went
down, her eyes fixed upon the forms of the King,
and the little Prince, his son, who were busily at
play with a mimic squadron in one of the smaller
tanks or pools. So intent was her watching that she
was startled to find the King’s brother standing
beside her and mindful of her duty to royalty she
arose.
“Nay, nay, my lady,” said the prince, “do not
rise to do me reverence! It is more meet that I
should bend to thee.” Miriam paid little heed to
these words. She had been reared amid the meaningless
flattery of the court, but she nevertheless resumed
her seat, and was not surprised to have the Prince
take the vacant place beside her. “It is to be
regretted, my lady,” he said, “that you did not
linger in the council chamber to-day and hear the
great prophet speak Egypt’s doom! Your Moses
(through the lips of Aaron his brother) bids us
prepare for many calamities, and at Nature’s door
he lays them all! wind, rain, hail, a devouring insect
horde, and then, if we hold Israel still, the grim
85]
spectre called Death will make a gleaning of Mizram’s
first born.”
“All this have I heard from the Queen, my lord,”
replied Miriam quietly. “And it will surely befall,
as he has said, and, when it is accomplished, and
Israel goes out, you will be the King.” The Prince
drew nearer to Miriam. “And where wilt thou be
in that day?” he said slowly, and his eyes looked
into hers with something that had a mingled motive
(for Miriam was too pure of soul to inspire only
carnal love, and for Miriam the Prince had felt an
absorbing passion lo, these many years). “Nay,”
she answered. “It matters not to me, save that I
wish thee well, and pray that thy reign may be one
of peace, and prosperity, to Egypt.” “And where
wilt thou be, when Tothmes is dead and I am King?”
he said. “Sire,” she made answer, “I am an Israelite.
When my people go hence I shall not be left
in Egypt.” “But the child,” he said, and as he
uttered the word it seemed as though he sought
through the word to read her inmost soul. “The
child, can you bear to part from him?” She laid
her hand upon her heart and paled as though his
words had the hurt of a blow; but she lifted her
sweet, untroubled eyes to his face and said: “I,
too, have thought of this parting from the child, but
did Aaron not tell you, that when you sit upon the
throne, the little Prince shall be no more. Nay,”
86]
she said, as though speaking to herself, “I will not
leave him in Egypt, I will not leave him, until God
takes him.”
A madness seemed to sweep over the Prince. He
drew closer to Miriam’s side and whispered: “You
shall not go hence, life of my life, soul of my soul.
I have prayed to all the gods that the famine, and
the fever, the pestilence, and the thirst may come!
That yonder gibbering idiot, yonder fatherless child,
may give up the ghost; that Hatsu may fall dead,
and you alone be spared. Then may Israel go, if you,
beloved, remain, my queen, sharing my throne. You
who since my earliest boyhood have reigned supreme
in my soul. I will be so tender to you, so much your
slave, that ere I die you will love me, and in your
love my highest desire will be fulfilled. Listen,
what I tell you is true. Yonder Prince is but a Prince
in name! He has no claim of heirship to the throne!
He is a nameless waif, his parentage unknown; but
for your sake, for your love, I would set him before
the people, and call him King. And so, sweet one,
go not out with Israel, but abide in Mizram, for
the child’s sake.” As he still speaks she puts her
hand upon her heart, then she lays her head back
against the wall of the summer house, and to his
horror, life seems departing from her! She grows
ghastly to look upon. Terror stricken, conscience
87]
smitten (for he loves her better than himself) he
turns and flees.
Scarcely have his feet gained a safe retreat, when
Alric enters the arbor. “It is well,” he mutters
as he catches sight of Miriam. “I came none too
soon! I felt some poisonous thing was hovering too
near my white rose.” He came to her side and made
mystic signs, and called her by the name of “Gweneth.”
She opened her eyes. “What wouldst thou,
master,” she said. “Where art thou?” he asked.
“Here beside thee, master, but oh, so longing for
rest. This journey through the flesh has been a bitter
one. I have come e’en close to my beloved, and yet
another has gained his love. It is hard to serve
without reward. I pray you, my master, let me
begone!”
With a tenderness drawn from him, against
judgment, the man Alric knelt beside her, and
kissed her white hand. “Sweet one,” he said, “the
journey is nearly over. Would that I might tell
thee what thou art become to me. I dare not, lest
I lose my power over the thoughts and actions of
the many, through the knowledge that you alone
can impart. Yes, sweet soul, thy mission is all
but ended in Egypt, as is also that of thy brave
sister soul. So go forth again Gweneth, and come
not as twain to me in any eon of rolling time, but
wait, until as one soul, I can meet and claim you,
88]
forever and forever. But speak, oh Gweneth, who
went from thee?”
“It was the Prince, the King’s brother. Long
has he loved Miriam, the Israelite; long has he
worshipped her from afar; and to-day he did speak
to her of his hopes, when Egypt held out its crown
to him.”
“And,” said Alric slowly, “Egypt will soon call
him King. But haste to speak to me of other things,
dear spirit, for it is thy last service. Reveal to me
the close at hand story of Egypt.”
A sigh escaped the white lips ere she said softly:
“There will be an exodus of many besides the Israelites.
The idiot King, the fair young Prince, Zelas
the High Priest, Hatsu and Miriam shall go on, and
Alric alone shall be left to abide in the land of his
father, lo, these many years. Zelas and Hatsu shall
be caught up in a chariot of fire, and the King and
the Prince shall die, to ransom Israel, and in that
same hour a merciful shaft from heaven shall set
Miriam free.” She stretched out her arms and cried:
“I pray thee, good master, let me go! for I am
weary.”
With a sigh Alric arose. “It will be as thou
sayest, sweet one,” he said, “our day is over, and
another night of short oblivion draws near, for the
many.” Then he made some passes above her, calling:
“Wake, Miriam, awake!” The color came
89]
stealing back into her cheeks and lips, and she looked
up to Alric with a perplexed smile. “I am such a
sleepy one,” she said, “and such a dreamer of
dreams! Listen, my lord, as I sat me here watching
the King and the little Prince at their play, I fell
asleep and had such a strange vision. I thought that
the King’s brother came to this arbor, and talked
to me as would a lover. It was an idle, idle dream.”
And then she rose and (as a mother might) drew
the head of Alric down to her breast and kissed
him.
CHAPTER VI.
90]
And now the prophecy had been fulfilled. The
once fair land lay a barren waste. Egypt so long in
thralldom to her myriad gods, was helpless, speechless,
and prayerless, before the might of the ONE
Jehovah. Hope was dead, courage had fled, and
naught seemed left but a remnant of stubborn will
in which to still cry out: “Israel shall not go.”
The hour had come in which the last curse was
to fall. Scarce had the sun gone down when the
idiot King gave up the ghost, and through all the
realm there arose a wailing cry: “Oh, my first
born; oh, my son, my son!”
CHAPTER VII.
91]
In an upper room in the palace lay the little Prince.
Through the open casement the moon looked in.
Kneeling beside him was Miriam, her face buried
in her hands, her body shaken by sobs. The child
was speaking. “Dear Miriam,” he said, “do not
bid me linger in this parched land. I fain would go
to the better country; one I love waits for me there.
Didn’t thou not tell me, that when Israel’s great
prophet stood to warn Egypt, that he did bless my
father, the King, and promise to him a place in the
heaven of heavens? Dear Miriam, the King has
gone out of Egypt. Hark! how the heralds cry
it through the streets! ‘The King is dead,’ they
say. ‘Long live the King.’ I cannot linger here,
I must go to him. He will lose his way; he could
not find the golden gates; he does not know the
angels; I led him here, and I must lead him there.
Nay, sweet nurse, do not weep! I fain would go!
Hark! he calls me. My father have but patience
for a little while! I come.” And then the child
fell, panting, back among his pillows.
Rising from her knees Miriam stood for one
moment looking down upon him, then, all unnoticed,
in the wild confusion of grief that was sweeping
92]
like a flood through every home in the city, she made
her way out of the palace, and the gates, to the plain
beyond, where in a rude hut dwelt the prophet
Moses and his brother, Aaron, waiting until the time
should come for them to guide Israel out of Egypt.
With no asking for admittance, Miriam entered the
hut, and seeing Aaron within, she hastened to throw
herself at his feet. “Oh, my lord,” she cried, “I
come to beg of thee, in the name of Jehovah, take
all Egypt, but spare the life of Hatsu’s son, the little
Prince! No dearer could he be to me, my lord,
had I carried him for nine long moons under my
heart, no dearer had I known the pangs that bring
the joyous gift to motherhood. My lord, take me,
an unworthy daughter of Israel, aye, blot out my
soul for all eternity, but spare the child!”
Upon her bowed head the prophet laid a gentle
hand.
“Miriam, daughter of Abram,” he said, “no
more faithful child hath God of Israel than thou.
Thy human form has been used, as a shield, by those
to whom thou hast given thy pure love; but they
have had no power to touch thy white soul. It is not
the will of the ‘All-Wise’ that thine eyes should
see, on this earth, that which has been hidden from
thee. But be comforted, for thy God is a God of
Mercy, and so let the child go in peace. The little
one that thou hast reared, to say thy prayers, and
93]
call upon the Blessed One of Israel, shall see no
evil days, aye, ere thy returning feet shall cross the
threshold of the city gates the child shall die, and
thou shalt quickly follow him.”
With a moan of hopeless agony, Miriam arose.
She said no word of parting. She turned and made
her way back across the barren moonlit plain. A
cloud now covered the moon, and a strange low-voiced
wind arose that was like unto a warning cry;
but Miriam heeded naught; she hurried on repeating
through her white lips: “God is greater than
Moses! God is greater than Aaron! God notes the
fall of the bird from its nest, and He will hear my
prayer! He will hear! Oh, my Father in Heaven,
spare the child, spare the child!”
There comes to some, in every age of time, the
actual power of reaching the source of light. It is
to the mother that this awful privilege is oftenest
granted. When in her supreme agony of love she
spans all space and reaches the eternal to beg the life
of her child.
Suddenly Miriam stood still, her cry ceased and
in a quiet voice she spake to the great silence:
“What is it that Thou sayest to my soul? Aye,
I know the words, ‘Be strong and of good courage;
fear not, for it is the Lord that doth go with thee;
He will not fail thee or forsake thee.’ Yea, they
are sweet and comforting words! What is Thy
94]
name, Thou that art clothed in light?” Then she
stretched forth her hands, a smile came to her lips.
“Thou art an angel of the Lord,” she cried. “Aye,
spirit, I will lean upon thy breast and thou shalt
lead me through the gates.”
And the prophet Aaron, watching Miriam from
his doorway (for the moon had come out of hiding
and again the parched plain was as bright as at midday)
lifted up his voice and said: “Keep Thy
strong arm about her, oh Merciful One; rest her
weary head upon thy loving, tender breast, for Thou,
too, in Thy time of earthly sojourn, knew the yearning
of the Mother heart. Oh, thou shining one,
thou, too, wert once like her, a sorrowing woman,
and thy God, and Miriam’s God, hath sent thee to
lead her through the gate.”
CHAPTER VIII.
95]
The low muttering had grown to louder tone,
the wind came in mad gusts. There were vivid
ribbons of fire, and great reverberating crashes of
thunder.
Beside the little bed on which lay the dead child
knelt Miriam, and at the foot of the couch stood the
Queen and Alric. It would have been hard to tell
which of the two faces (the man’s or the woman’s)
showed the less of fear or sorrow. The ravages of
pestilence, famine and fever had left them unmoved
and the present visitation of death they were meeting
in quiet and silence. The great General had
no tears to shed for the dead King, or the dead
King’s little son, and the woman warrior stood dry
eyed, gazing upon the fast stiffening body of the
child.
To Miriam this calmness meant a pent up agony.
So, forgetting her own sorrow, she strove to form
words of comfort for the Queen; and as she spoke
the darkness grew deeper, and the very air became,
as it were shut out, so that not in breaths, but in
gasps, did the stifling Egyptians strive to fill their
lungs. A silence fell, a great hush came, and in
its midst a man crawled into the room and stopped
96]
at the Queen’s feet, then he gasped out: “Zelas,
the great High Priest, bids thee, oh Queen, and
thee, my Lord Alric, to hasten to him. He waits, in
the secret grotto, under the Sphinx.” As he uttered
the last word, he fell dead. It was at this instant
that an awful flood of light filled the room. In its
glory one saw that Miriam, with an ecstatic smile,
arose for an instant, stretched her arms upward, and
fell lifeless across the body of the little Prince.
Then the storm burst, and the blessed rain fell,
and the curse had been lifted. * * *
When the storm was over, Israel went out of
Egypt, and Tothmes the Third (a wiser and a better
man for this awful visitation) began with speed to
renew, rebuild, and re-create Egypt, to a higher
place among the nations of the earth.
For centuries it was believed, by the most learned,
that on that fateful night, Hatsu, Alric and Zelas
were carried by Osirus, into his own kingdom, for
no mortal eye ever beheld them more, living or dead;
neither did any see them depart. * * *
In Syria there dwelt, for many years, a wise
man. He came from none knew whither, and as
he was great in sorcery, none dared provoke his
wrath by questionings. He left naught upon his
death, but a scroll on which were written characters
so strange that none could find their meaning. So
the baffled scholars of each generation bequeathed
97]
it to the next and thus the scroll was treasured through
much time, until at last, one was born, who said:
“I can read what is written therein,” and when he
read the wise men of his day laughed him to scorn,
and cried out that he was mad. “To think,” they
said, “that the world has been treasuring this scroll
for centuries, only to be rewarded with what is at
best an unfinished and impossible love tale.”
Here is what the scholar found written upon the
parchment:
CHAPTER IX.
98]
“The shadows of life are gathering thick and
fast, and my long day on earth is drawing to its
close, and I fain would write, ere it be too late, that
which the world should know from me, when the
time is ripe for its revealing.
“On the night of the fulfillment of the last curse,
as the Queen and I stood by the bed whereon lay
my dead child, and while the all unconscious mother,
Miriam, strove to comfort the Queen, Hatsu and
I were summoned to attend upon Zelas the High
Priest. The place to which he called us was a subterranean
grotto, under the great Sphinx, a secret
retreat known to but a few in all the kingdom, and
where had been long established that which was
called, by the initiated, ‘the chamber of perfect
peace.’ This place was so hidden away by a labyrinth
of stairs and passages that, without the key to
its winding ways, he who entered would be hopelessly
lost. This ‘chamber of rest’ was hewn out
of solid rock, and held two cradles, in which through
many generations a chosen number of the greatest
and the best had been rocked to a final sleep. It
was a mad night. Egypt in all her history had
known no such warring of the elements, but the Queen
99]
and I, heedless of all else, but the bidding of Zelas,
made our way out of the palace, and through the
plague-ridden city. None marked us, as we hurried
on. Like two children, hand in hand, we walked, a
speechless pair, but true companions in adversity,
until we came at length, to the appointed place. Then
it was that the Princess spoke to me. ‘The storm
is fast spending itself,’ she said slowly. ‘On the
morrow the sky will be blue again, and the sun will
shine. Israel will depart, and Egypt will lift up
her bowed head, and Tothmes, my brother, will
reign. It is my will that thou, follow me to the end,
that, as I close my eyes, in a last sleep, I may see thy
face; for, in spite of warrior fame, in spite of prowess
in the chase, I carry a woman’s heart, and thou alone
have had an altar there! Nay, let me tell thee
more, I had rather have lived my lonely empty life,
with just the dream of what it could have been, as
thine honored wife, than to have been given, any
other portion, however blessed.’
“My soul was stirred by this tenderness. ‘Great
Queen,’ I made answer, ‘why must we enter here?
the night is dark, and in its gloom, we will leave
the city; then in some safe retreat, and under names
unknown, we will begin a life of happiness that
shall be but the foretaste of innumerable re-unitings
in the progression from world to world.’ She shook
her head sadly, ‘Nay,’ she said, ‘not now, not now,
100]
my plane is higher than thine, and I can not stoop
to thee, much and fondly though I love thee; when
we can meet as soul equals, we shall not part, believe
me, and so good-bye, and know in some beyond of
time, we shall meet and understand, now come.’
“Guided by the Princess, we wended our way to
one of the claws of the great sphinx. There, she
knelt down, and said some mystic words. A stone
slid noiselessly aside, and we entered the opening
and found ourselves in a long corridor. The air was
pure and sweet, aye, even fragrant, as though perfumed
with growing flowers, lights glimmered along
the walls, lights created by a subtle power in nature
known only to the most learned. With the ease of
one who treads a frequented way, the Queen led
me, until we came to a door, that opened as the
other had done at her bidding, and we stood inside
a brilliantly lighted hall, at whose farther end (and
built out into the room,) was that which seemed
to be a white tomb, with a grated entrance gate. No
one was in sight, and the Queen, bidding me be seated
and await her further orders, turned into one of the
arched door-ways, and disappeared.
“How long I sat thus in solitude, none can tell;
at last through the same portal she came back, and
with her my master Zelas; both were in the robes
of their office; jewels glittered upon them like hoar
frost, and there was that in the set faces, that spoke
101]
of the to come. The Queen, said no word; but I
felt that her eyes dwelt upon me with a tenderness
unspeakable. It was Zelas my master that broke the
silence.
“‘Alric, beloved,’ he said, ‘the hour is come, in
which we twain must depart. Keep thou a silent
tryst, until yon clock shall toll ten times the hour.
Then rise, open the wicket gate, and enter without
fear to gather that which thou shalt find into the
urn I hold; then, with this scroll in thy hand, learn
the way to return again, to the world. Day shall
scarce have dawned, and the tired nation will be
wrapped in a deep sleep; go thou up, and out of
Egypt, and with thee, bear the urn and when thou
art upon the edge of Mizram’s skirt, scatter the
ashes, thou hast by thee, to the four winds of heaven.
Alric, beloved, adieu; somewhere, souls meet again,
somewhere.’
“He lifted his grand face upward, and his lips
moved as if in prayer;—then the twain turned, and
entered through the gate. All was silent, and the
unseen bell told the hours, until full ten had come
and gone; then I rose, and betook me to the iron gate,
opened it, and found myself in a low room that held
two white cradles. The cradles were empty, but in
the hollow stone basin under each, lay small heaps
of white ashes. No trace of fire, no melted gold,
no dulled gem was there, no sign by which to tell,
102]
which had been Queen and which High Priest. I
stooped and gathered the dust into the urn, took my
scroll, and so departed, and in the early dawn (as
Zelas had bade me) I went out of Egypt.
“Years have come and gone since then, so many,
that the past of which I write seems like a dream and
in my heart, there has come to be a longing, to see
once more, the faces of Miriam, and Hatsu, but most
of all to hear again, the voice of the little child—Miriam’s
child and mine.”
Transcriber’s Note
Archaic and variant spelling is preserved as printed, but variations
on spelling within the book have been made consistent. The author’s
punctuation is preserved as printed, unless there appeared to be a
definite error.
The Table of Contents has been added by the transcriber for the
convenience of the reader.
Page 21 refers to “Troth’s kingdom.” This may be an error for “Thoth’s
kingdom,” but as there is no way to be sure, it is preserved as
printed.
Page 101 has an omitted word following ‘the’—“... and there was that in
the set faces, that spoke of the to come.” As there is no way to determine
what the missing word may have been, it is preserved as printed.
Errors in quotation marks have been corrected, including omitted commas
in speech.
The following amendments have been made:
Page 5—Osiris amended to Osirus—“O, Osirus, I swear to
Thee, ...”
Page 8—graneries amended to granaries—... the granaries, the garden
produce, ...
Page 14—sandaled amended to sandalled—... her sandalled feet glimmer like frost ...
Page 15—There amended to there—“... oh, Miriam,” she cried,
springing to her feet, “there are no Gods! ...”
Page 16—Alrick’s amended to Alric’s—At a certain place by the way,
at Alric’s bidding, ...
Page 17—sents amended to sent—... and with closed eyes and folded
hands sent prayers ...
Page 21—Troths amended to Troth’s—... would far rather accept an
invitation to Troth’s kingdom ...
Page 24—Alrick amended to Alric—Alric now raised his other hand ...
Page 38—alter amended to altar—... and then laying upon the altar,
...
Page 48—superfluous comma deleted following ‘recalling’—... then, as
if recalling Miriam for the first time, ...
Page 53—bond-woman amended to bondwoman—... spirit
away an Israelitish bondwoman; ...
Page 62—superfluous comma deleted following ‘old’—... holding out to
the people her hour old son.
Page 63—Majesties amended to Majesties’—... general in command of
Their Majesties’ forces, ...
Page 75—women amended to woman—Was she for all her soldierly bearing
a wilful woman?
Page 82—Pharoah amended to Pharaoh—The first born of Pharaoh that
sitteth upon the throne ...
Page 96—comma amended to period—“... He waits, in the secret grotto,
under the Sphinx.”
Page 98—labarinth amended to labyrinth—... hidden away by a
labyrinth of stairs and passages ...