{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_59422/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_59422","id":"gutenberg_59422","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/59422","summary":null,"tags":["Adventure stories","Africa -- Fiction","Ayesha (Fictitious character : Haggard) -- Fiction","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Novels","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","Fantasy fiction","Immortalism -- Fiction","Love stories","Reincarnation -- Fiction","Women -- Africa -- Fiction"],"text":"David Thomas\n\n\n\n\n\n Wisdom's Daughter\n\n _The Life and Love Story of\n She-Who-Must-be-Obeyed_\n\n By\n H. Rider Haggard\n\n Garden City New York\n Doubleday, Page & Company\n 1923\n\n\nDEDICATION\n\nIn bygone years the books \"She\" and \"Ayesha\" were dedicated to Andrew\nLang. Now, when he is dead, this, the last romance that will be\nwritten concerning \"_She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed_,\" is offered as a tribute\nto his beloved and honoured memory.\n\n_Ditchingham_, 1922.\n\n\nEDITOR'S NOTE\n\nWhat was the greatest fault of Ayesha, _She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed_?\nSurely a vanity so colossal that, to take one out of many examples, it\npersuaded her that her mother died after looking upon her, fearing\nlest, should she live, she might give birth to another child who was\nless fair.\n\nAt least, as her story shows, it was vanity, rather than love of the\nbeauteous Greek, Kallikrates, that stained the hands of She with his\ninnocent blood and, amongst other ills, brought upon her the fearful\ncurse of deathlessness while still inhabiting a sphere where Death is\nlord of all. Had not Amenartas taunted her with the waning of her\nimperial beauty, eaten of the tooth of Time, never would she have\ndisobeyed the command of her master, the Prophet Noot, and entered\nthat Fire of Immortality which she was set to guard.\n\nThus it seems that by denial she would have escaped the net of many\nwoes in which, perchance, she is still entangled and of Ayesha,\nDaughter of Wisdom yet Folly's Slave, there would have been no tale to\ntell and, from her parable of the eternal war of flesh and spirit\nthere would have been no lesson to be learned. But Vanity--or was it\nFate?--led her down another road.\n\nThe Editor.\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\nIntroductory\n\nI. The Halls of Heaven\n\nII. Noot the Prophet Comes to Ozal\n\nIII. The Battle and the Flight\n\nIV. The Kiss of Fate\n\nV. The Summons\n\nVI. The Divination\n\nVII. The Quelling of the Storm\n\nVIII. The King of Sidon\n\nIX. Dagon Takes His Sacrifice\n\nX. The Vengeance of Beltis\n\nXI. The Escape from Sidon\n\nXII. The Sea Battle\n\nXIII. The Shame of Pharaoh\n\nXIV. The Beguiling of Bagoas\n\nXV. The Plot and the Voice\n\nXVI. The Feast of the King of Kings\n\nXVII. The Flight and the Summons\n\nXVIII. The Tale of Philo\n\nXIX. The Hermitage of Noot\n\nXX. The Coming of Kallikrates\n\nXXI. The Truth and the Temptation\n\nXXII. Beware!\n\nXXIII. The Doom of the Fire\n\nXXIV. The Counsel of Philo\n\nXXV. In Undying Loneliness\n\n\nWISDOM'S DAUGHTER\n\n\nINTRODUCTORY\n\n_The manuscript of which the contents are printed here was discovered\namong the effects of the late L. Horace Holly, though not until some\nyears after his death. It was in an envelope on which had been\nscribbled a direction that it should be forwarded to the present\neditor \"at the appointed time,\" words that at first he did not\nunderstand. However, in due course it arrived without any accompanying\nnote of explanation, so that to this hour he does not know by whom it\nwas sent or where from, since the only postmark on the packet was\nLondon, W., and the address was typewritten._\n\n_When opened the package proved to contain two thick notebooks, bound\nin parchment, or rather scraped goat or sheepskin, and very roughly as\nthough by an unskilled hand, perhaps in order to preserve them if\nexposed to hard usage or weather. The paper of these books is\nextremely thin and tough so that each of them contains a great number\nof sheets. It is not of European make, and its appearance suggests\nthat it was manufactured in the East, perhaps in China._\n\n_There could be no doubt as to who had owned these notebooks, because\non one of them, the first, written in red ink upon the parchment cover\nin block letters, appears the name of Mr. Holly himself. Also on its\nfirst pages are various memoranda of travel evidently made by him and\nno one else. After these follow sheet upon sheet of apparently\nindecipherable shorthand mixed up with tiny Arabic characters. This\nshorthand proved to belong to no known system, and although every\neffort was made to decipher it, for over two years it remained\nunread._\n\n_At length, when all attempts had been abandoned, almost by chance, it\nwas shown to a great Oriental scholar, a friend of the Editor, who\nglanced at it and took it to bed with him. Next morning at breakfast\nhe announced calmly that he had discovered the key and could read the\nstuff as easily as though it were a newspaper leader. It seemed that\nthe writing was an ancient form of contracted Arabic, mixed in places\nwith the Demotic of the Egyptians--a shorthand Arabic and a shorthand\nDemotic, difficult at first, but once the key was found easily\ndecipherable by some six or eight living men, of whom, as it chanced,\nthe learned scholar into whose hands it had thus fallen accidentally\nwas one._\n\n_So it came about that with toil and cost and time, at length those\ntwo closely written volumes were transcribed in full and translated.\nFor the rest, they speak for themselves. Let the reader judge of\nthem._\n\n_There is but one thing to add. Although it is recorded in notebooks\nthat had been his property, clearly this manuscript was_ not\n_written by Mr. Holly. For reasons which she explains it was written\nwith the hand of_ She _herself, during the period of her second\nincarnation when at last Leo found her in the mountains of Thibet, as\nis described in the book called \"Ayesha.\"_\n\n\n CHAPTER I\n The Halls of Heaven\n\nTo the learned man, ugly of form and face but sound at heart, Holly\nby name, a citizen of a northern land whom at times I think that once\nI knew as Noot the Holy, that philosopher who was my master in a past\nwhich seems far to him and is forgot, but to me is but as yesterday,\nto this Holly, I say, I, who on earth am named Ayesha, daughter of\nYarab the Arab chief, but who have many other titles here and\nelsewhere, have told certain stories of my past days and the part I\nplayed in them. Also I have told the same or other stories to my lord\nKallikrates, the Greek, now named Leo Vincey, aforetimes a warrior\nafter the habit of his race and his forefathers, who for religious\nreasons became a priest of Isis, the great goddess of Egypt and, once\nI believed, my mother in the spirit. Also I have told these or\ndifferent tales to one Allan, a wandering hunter of beasts and a\nfighting man of good blood who visited me at K\u00f4r, though of this I\nsaid nothing to Holly or to my lord Kallikrates, now known as Leo or\nthe Lion, because as to this Allan I held it wiser to be silent.\n\nAll these stories do not agree together, since often I spoke them as\nparables, or in order to tell to each that which he would wish to\nhear, or to hide my mind for my own purposes.\n\nYet in every one of them lay hid something of the truth, a grain of\ngold in the ore of fable that might be found by him who had the skill\nand strength to seek.\n\nNow my spirit moves me to interpret these parables and set down what I\nam and whence I came and certain of the things that I have seen and\ndone, or at the least such of them as I am permitted to reveal by\nthose mightier than I of whom I am the servant, as they in their turn\nare the servants of others yet mightier than themselves.\n\nHere in these Asian caves I sit, the Hesea of the Mountain, the last\npriestess of the worship of Mother Isis upon earth, as aforetime I sat\namid the ruins of K\u00f4r in Libya.\n\nAt K\u00f4r for two thousand years I watched and waited till at length\nreborn, Kallikrates, whom unwittingly I slew in a rage of jealousy,\ncame back to me where I had slain him. There, because of the curse\nthat is on me and him, I lost him again, for in this very place, too,\nI was slain most horribly, slain by an excess of life wherewith I\nthought to make myself more beautiful even than I was and in striving\nto overfill the vase, shattered it to the vilest dust. Thus once more\nFate made a mock of me; once more I lost Kallikrates whom it is my\ndoom to desire in the flesh and to raise up in the spirit through time\nuntold.\n\nMy soul passed out and on and here for a little while it found a home\nmasked in the withered shape of an ancient priestess of my worship.\n\nAs was foredoomed my lord came back to me and saw the shining soul\nwithin that hideous shape and claimed it with a kiss, as I think the\nbravest deed and the most faithful that was ever done by man. In the\nmagic of that kiss as also was foredoomed, my beauty grew again before\nhis eyes, so that once more I stand a glory upon earth. Now we are\nplighted, now, if all goes well, within a year we shall be wed, aye,\nwithin one short year after I have borne him back to K\u00f4r and unsealed\nthe hidden Fire of Life and plunged him in its essence, giving to him\nmy own gift of undying days.\n\nAnd yet and yet--who knows the end? He presses me sore, and the\nstarved woman part of me is passionate and weak and I may yield, and\nif his lips touch mine, who can say but that the fire within me will\ndestroy him, the unfortified, and bring all my plans to dust and\nnothingness? I am great, set far above mortals, yet I play against\nforces I cannot see, that are greater than I, and it may please them\nto snatch the cup from my lips, and once more to overthrow me; for\neven though the blood of gods runs in him, as it runs in all of us,\nwho can stand against their master, Doom, and its decrees? Therefore\nI, named Wisdom's Daughter, named Child of Isis, to-night am as full\nof fears as any mortal maid craving her lover beneath the moon and not\nknowing but that war, or chance, or the vile breath of sickness may\nhave borne him away into that gulf where all things must be\nlost--until they are found again.\n\n\nFrom month to month Leo, my lord, hunts upon the mountain after the\nfashion of men, and I, Ayesha, brood within the caves after the\nfashion of women. Yes, I who am half a goddess still brood within the\ncaves after the fashion of women who wait and watch. Holly, the\ninstructed, who loves me, as all men must do, bides here with me in\nthe caves and we talk together of ancient things whereof the world has\nlost count, for he is a learned man skilled in the tongues of Greece\nand Rome, and one who thinks and, perchance, remembers.\n\nBut yesterday he said to me that I who seemed to know the past and to\nwhom doors were opened that cannot be entered by human feet, should\nwrite down what I know and have experienced, that in time to come the\nworld may be the wiser.\n\nThis the fancy has taken me to do, though whether I shall persevere to\nthe end, I cannot say. He has given me that wherein I can write. 'Tis\nnot the old papyrus, but it will serve, and I have pens of reed and\ncan make ink of various colours, who in the bygone days was no mean\nscribe. Also I sleep but little, whose body, filled like a cup with\nlife, needs small rest, and the long hours of the night pass wearily\nfor me who lie and brood upon what has been and is to come, searching\nthe darkness of the future with aching, fearful soul. Moreover, I am\nable to write in characters which, with all his learning, Holly cannot\nread, I who am not minded that he should know my thoughts and deeds\nand betray them to my lord whom they might cause to think the worse of\nme.\n\nWhy, then, should I write at all? For this reason: in certain matters\nI have foreknowledge and my spirit tells me that in a day to come, at\nthe time appointed, some will guess the secret of my script and render\nit into tongues that all may read, so that when, soon or late, upon\nthe circle of my eternal path, I pass hence to whence I came, and,\nlike to the Fire-God in the caves of K\u00f4r am hid awhile, this record\nwill remain my monument. Ah! there peeps out the mortal in me, for\nsee! like any common man or woman I would not be forgot even among the\npassing dwellers in a petty world.\n\nNow to my task.\n\n\nI have a vision of what chanced to my soul before it descended to\ndwell on earth, and with it I will begin. Maybe it is but a parable\nnot to be strictly rendered, a token and a symbol rather than a truth.\nYet of this I am sure that in it there is something of the truth,\nsince otherwise why through the long centuries did it return to me\nagain and yet again? Mayhap Greece and Egypt had no gods save those\nthey fashioned for themselves. Holly tells me, as did the Wanderer,\nAllan, who also had some smattering of knowledge, that Zeus and\nAphrodite and Osiris and Horus and Ammon are now dethroned with all\ntheir company and lie in the dust like the shattered columns of their\ntemples, the mock of men who talk of them as the fables of the early\nworld, so that of all the divinities that I knew, He of the Jews,\nalthough changed of character and countenance, alone is worshipped and\nremains.\n\nDoubtless it is so, yet while man lives, always there is God, though\nhis shapes be many. Always there is the eternal Good, as in a dream\nthe holy Noot named the ultimate Divine, and behold! it is called\nAmmon or otherwise. Always there is Evil and behold! it is called Set\nor Baal, or Moloch, or otherwise. Always the stained soul of man seeks\nredemption, and he who saves is called Osiris or otherwise. Always\nNature endures and she is called Isis or otherwise. Always the great\nworld that will not die strains and pulses to new life, and the\nLife-bringer is called Aphrodite or otherwise. And so on continually.\nWhere man is, again I say, there was and is and will be God, or\nGood--the Spirit named by many names.\n\nI go to my window-place in this cave-chamber and look out upon the\nstars shining countless in the frosty sky and lo! there I see God clad\nin one of the most glorious of His garments. I look at the moth\nflitting round my lamp or resting on the wall and, by the magic that\nis in it, summoning its mate from far, and lo! there I see God in\nanother of His humbler garments. For God is in all things and\neverywhere, and from the great suns down, to Him who sent them forth\nand to Whom they return again, all that hath life must bow.\n\n\nThis is the vision wherein I read a parable of eternal truths.\n\nI, Ayesha, daughter of Yarab, not yet of the flesh, but above and\nbeyond the flesh inhabited the halls of that great goddess of the\nearth, a minister of That which rules all the earth (Nature's self as\nnow I know), who in Egypt was named Isis, Mother of Mysteries.\n_Child_, she named me, and _Messenger_; and in that dream or parable,\nas a child was I to her, for I drank of the cup of her wisdom and\nsomething of her greatness was in my soul.\n\nThe goddess sat brooding in her sanctuary where Spirits came and went\nbearing tidings from all lands or emptying at her feet the cups of\noffered prayer. About her fell her robes, blue as the sky, and over\nthe robes hung down her hair dusky as the night, and beneath her bent\nbrows shone her eyes like stars of the night. In her hand was the rod\nof power and the footstool at her feet was shaped like the round\nworld. There, canopied with light, she sat upon an ebon seat and\nbrooded while round her beat music like sea waves upon the shore, such\nmusic as is not known upon the earth.\n\nI appeared. I stood before her, I abased myself, I bowed till my\nforehead lay upon the ground and my hair swept the dust of the ground.\nShe touched me with her sceptre, bidding me arise.\n\n\"Speak, Child,\" she said. \"What message dost thou bring from the\nshores of Nile? How goes my worship in the temples of Isis and are my\nservants faithful to my law?\"\n\nThen I made answer.\n\n\"O Mother divine, I have accomplished my embassy. Unseen, a spirit, I\nhave wandered through the Land of Egypt. I have visited thy temples,\nI have hearkened to the councils of thy priests, I have watched thy\nworshippers and read their hearts. This is my report. Thy holy temples\nare empty; thy priests neglect thine altars; save a remnant who remain\nfaithful, thy worshippers bow themselves before the shrines of another\ngoddess.\"\n\n\"How is this goddess named, O Child of my love and wisdom?\"\n\n\"She is named Aphrodite of the Greeks, a people who have flowed into\nEgypt, also other folk know her as Ashtoreth and Venus. Her sanctuary\nof sanctuaries is at Paphos in Cyprus, an island of the sea over\nagainst Egypt. She is the Queen of earthly love and love is the ritual\nof her worship, and she makes a mock of thee, O Mother, and of all the\nancient gods, thy brothers and sisters, swearing that thy day and\ntheirs is done and that she has risen from the sea to rule the world,\nand will rule it to the end. Here and there she reveals herself and\nconquers by her beauty, making all men to worship her and teaching all\nwomen to follow in her steps and beguile as she does, so that thy very\npriests turn to her and thy priestesses break from their vows and\nwanton with them.\"\n\n\"All of this I have learned, O Child, and more; yet it was my desire\nto hear it from thy lips that cannot lie, since in thee dwells my\nspirit. Hearken now! I am minded to be avenged upon these false\nEgyptians, and thou shalt be the sword of vengeance wherewith I will\nsmite them, bringing their ancient glory to the dust and for ever\nsetting the yoke of bondage on their necks. Aye, I am so minded and it\nshall be done, how, I will teach thee afterward. But first, as I have\nthe power to do, I who under the Strength above me am regent of the\nball of earth, will summon this Aphrodite to my presence here and now,\nand bid her speak out her heart to me.\n\n\"Hear me, Aphrodite, wherever thou art in earth or heaven. Aphrodite,\nI bid thee appear.\"\n\nThen in my vision the Mother rose from her throne. Standing before it,\nterrible to see, she beckoned with her sceptre, north and south and\neast and west, uttering the secret words of power. Thrice she beckoned\nand thrice she spoke the secret words, and waited.\n\n\nThere was a stir at the end of the great hall and a sound of singing.\nBehold! floating between the long lines of the flame-clad guardians of\nthat hall, attended by her subject gods, her m\u00e6nads and her maidens,\na shape of naked loveliness, came Aphrodite of the Greeks. Veiled in\nher curling locks and roped about with gleaming pearls for necklace\nand for girdle, she stood before the throne and bowed to the Majesty\nit bore, then asked in a laughing voice of music,\n\n\"I have heard thy summons, Mother of Mysteries, and I am here. What\nwouldst thou of me, Isis, Queen of the World? How can the Sea-born\nwhose name is Beauty and whose gift is Love, serve thee, Isis, Queen\nof the World?\n\n\"Thus, thou who art shameless, thou born of the new gods and fashioned\nfrom the evil that is in the race of men--by lifting thy spell from\noff my worshippers. I know thy works. Drunken with desires they flock\nto thee in troops and for reward thou givest them the wages of their\nsin. Thou layest waste their homes; thou defilest their maidens, thou\nturnest men to beasts and makest a mock of them. Thy flowers fade; thy\njoys fill the mouth with ashes and those who drink of thy cup suck up\npoison in their souls. Thy fair flesh is a rottenness and thy perfumes\nare a stench and the incense of thine altars is the reek of hell.\nTherefore I command thee, go back to whence thou camest and leave the\nworld in peace.\"\n\n\"Whither, then, should I go, Mother?\" answered Aphrodite with her\nsilvery laugh, \"save into thy bosom, whence indeed I sprang, seeing\nthat thou art Nature's self and I am thy child. Stern is thy law and\nsweet, yet without me thou wouldst have none over whom to rule. Aye,\nwithout me would no child be born and not even a flower would blow.\nWithout me thou wouldst rule a wilderness with but the wisdom of which\nthou boastest to keep thee company. Hearken! We are at war and in that\nwar I shall be conqueror, for I am eternal and all life is my slave,\nbecause my name is Life. Get thee to thy heaven, Isis, and rule there\nwith Osiris, Lord of Death, but leave me the living. Soon their day is\ndone and they pass beyond my spells into thy dominion. There treat\nthem as thou wilt and be content, for then I have no more need of\nthem, nor they of me. Why of a sudden art thou so wrath with me, whom\nthou hast known from the beginning? Is it because I take new names and\nset up my altars in thine own Egypt, altars wreathed with flowers,\nleaving all desolate thine where prayers are mumbled from starved\nhearts and cold hands make the offering of denial? Come now, Mother\nIsis, let us play a game and let Egypt be the stake. Thou hast the\nvantage there, seeing that for \u00e6ons it has bowed to thy laws and thy\nyoke has been upon its neck.\"\n\n\"What, then, O Aphrodite, dost thou promise Egypt to which I and those\nwho rule with me have given greatness, wisdom, and hope beyond the\ngrave?\"\n\n\"None of these high things, Mother. My gifts are love and joy; sweet\nlove and joy in which for a little while all fears are forgot. Small\ngains thou mayest think, looking backward to the past and onward to\nthe future, thou whose eyes are upon eternity. Yet they shall prevail.\nIsis, in Egypt thy day is done; there, as elsewhere, thy sceptre\nfalls.\"\n\n\"If so, Wanton, with it falls Egypt that henceforth shall be the\nworld's slave. When conqueror after conqueror sets his foot upon her\nneck, then let her think on Isis whom she has forsaken, and wailing,\nfill her soul with thy swine's food. Lo! I depart, leaving my curse on\nEgypt. Have thy little day till before the Judgment seat we settle our\naccount. No more will I listen to thy falsehoods and thy blasphemies.\nTill then, Wanton, look on my majesty no more.\"\n\n\nSo in that vision spoke the Mother and was gone. With her, flashing\nlike lightnings, went the flame-clad guardians that attend the\ngoddess, leaving the great place empty save for Aphrodite and her\nthrong, and for the soul of me, Ayesha, who watched and hearkened,\nwondering. The Paphian looked around and laughed, then glided to the\nvacant throne and seating herself thereon, laughed again, till the\nmusic of her mockery echoing from pillar to pillar, filled all the\ntemple's halls.\n\n\"It is an omen,\" she cried. \"What Isis leaves I take; henceforth her\nseat and power are mine. See now my ministers, I queen it here, though\nI wear no vulture cap or symbols of the moon, whose brow is better\ngraced by these abundant locks and whose sceptre is a flower whereof\nthe odours make men mad. Yes, I queen it here as everywhere, though in\nthis solemn melancholy fane I lack a subject.\"\n\nShe glanced about her till her glorious, roving eyes fell upon that\nspirit which was I.\n\n\"Come hither, thou,\" she said, \"and do me homage.\"\n\nNow in my dream I, that spirit who in the world am named Ayesha, came\nand stood before her, saying,\n\n\"Nay, I am the child of Isis and to her I bow alone.\"\n\n\"Thinkest thou so?\" she answered, smiling and looking me up and down.\n\"Well, I have another mind. It seems to me that soon thou wilt descend\nfrom this sad realm to the joyous fields of earth, that there thou\nmayest fulfil a certain purpose, for such is the fate decreed for\nthee. Now, I, Aphrodite, add to that fate and lighten it. Look behind\nthee, Spirit that shall be woman!\"\n\nI turned and looked, there to behold a shape of beauty that I knew for\nMan. So beautiful was he that my breast rose and the life in me stood\nstill. He smiled at me and I smiled back at him. Then he was gone,\nleaving his picture stamped upon my soul.\n\n\"This is what I add to that tragic fate of thine, O Spirit that shall\nbe woman. Take him, the man appointed to thee, who from the beginning\nwas always thine, and as perchance thou hast done before, in his kiss\nforget thy Mother Isis and thy crown of woes.\"\n\n\nThus this vision ends, and though now I, Ayesha, have learned that\nIsis, as we knew and named her in the ancient time, is but a symbol of\nthat eternal holiness which is set above all heavens and all earths, I\nsay again that, as I believe, in its parable is hid something of the\nchangeless truth.\n\n\n CHAPTER II\n Noot the Prophet Comes to Ozal\n\nSuch is the vision, such the dream that has haunted me through the\ncenturies, and brooding over it from age to age, I, Ayesha, doubt not\nthat in its substance it is true, though its trappings may be\nfancy-wrought. At least this I know, that my spirit is the child of\nimmortal Wisdom, such as once men believed that Isis held, as my\nundying shape is born of the beauty that is fabled Aphrodite's gift.\nAt least it is certain that even before I dipped me in the Fire of\nLife, the most of learning and all human loveliness were mine. I know\nalso that it was my mission to bring Egypt to the dust, and did I not\nbring it to the dust, smiting to its heart through proud Sidon, and\nCyprus, Aphrodite's home? And have I not for these deeds borne\nAphrodite's curse, as, because of Aphrodite's yoke laid upon my\nhelpless neck, I have borne and bear the curse of Isis, I whose\ndestiny it is thus at once to be the instrument and sport of rival\npowers whose battle-ground is the heart of every one of us.\n\nAlas! were my tale known, the world in its haste might judge me hardly\nand think that I, who by burning its Ph\u0153nician props overturned an\nancient empire, am cruel-natured, or that because I sought the love of\na certain man and in my anger slew him when he turned from me, which\nin truth I did not desire to do, that I am wanton and ungoverned. Yet\nthese things are not so, seeing that it was Fate, not I, that gave\nEgypt to the Persian dog (whom in his turn I overthrew) and made of\nits people slaves, and my flesh, not I, which after I had tasted of\nthe Fire that is Nature's Soul, cursed me with passion and its fruits,\nperchance because I hated it and would never bow myself to it wholly,\nI who followed after purity, desiring not man's love but Wisdom's\ngifts and a crown of spiritual gold.\n\nMoreover, I had earthly and righteous warrant to bring about Sidon's\nfall and through it that of Egypt, seeing that their kings would have\nput me to utter shame and robbed my father of his life, as shall be\ntold. So, too, I had the warrant of a woman's heart to worship the man\nI sought and for the death I brought upon him in my jealous madness my\nsoul has paid full measure in remorse and tears. Still, since justice\nis hard to come by here on the earth, or even in the heaven above, I\nknow that some would judge me harshly and must bear it with the rest.\nEven Holly, and at times my Lord Leo who once was named Kallikrates,\nhave cherished such thoughts, though their lips dare not utter them,\nfor I read it in their minds which to me are as an open book.\nTherefore never shall Holly, nor my lord either, look upon this\nwritten truth, lest therefrom they might distil some poison of\nmistrustful doubt, for it is sure that all men stain the whiteness of\npure verity to the colour of their twisted minds. Therefore, too, I\nwrite it in tongues and symbols that they do not understand, which yet\nshall be deciphered in their season.\n\nAs I taught Holly long ago in the caves of K\u00f4r, and truly, though\nafterward for some forgotten reason of my own or to give him food for\nthought, I may perhaps have changed my tale, puzzling him with stories\nof great Alexander and the rest, by my mortal birth I am an Arabian of\nthe purest and most noble blood, born in Yaman the Happy and in the\nsweet city of Ozal. My father was named Yarab after the great ancestor\nof our race, and I, his only child, was named Ayesha after my highborn\nmother. Of her, whom I never knew, for she was gathered to the bosom\nof whatever god she worshipped but one moon from my birth, this is\nsaid.\n\nAt first she would not look on me, being angered because I was not a\nson, but at length at my father's pleading she was prevailed upon to\ncommand that I should be brought to her. When she saw how fair a babe\nHeaven had given her, such a babe as had not been known or told of\namong our people, she was amazed and put up a prayer that she might\ndie. This, those who knew her declared, she did for two\nreasons:--first because, foreseeing my greatness, she desired that I\nalone should hold my father's heart and that of all our tribe, and\nsecondly because she feared lest, should she live, she might bear\nother children whom she would hate when she compared them to my\nperfectness.\n\nSo it came about as, amongst others, my father told me often, that her\nprayer was granted and having kissed and blessed me, for a while she\nentered into rest.\n\nThis is the true story of her end, not the other, which those who\nenvied me put about in after days, that owing to certain revelations\nwhich came to her at the time of my birth, as to the deeds which I was\ndoomed to do and the loves and hates which I was doomed to earn, my\nmother thought it better to ask death from her gods rather than to\ncontinue in a life which she must live out at my side. This tale, my\nfather often swore to me when I asked him of it, was as false as the\nchangeful pictures which are seen at sunset on the desert, and\nsometimes at noonday also.\n\nFor the rest this beloved father of mine took no other wife while I\nwas yet a child, fearing lest for her own sake, or her children's, she\nshould be jealous and maltreat me, and afterward when I became a\nmaiden, because I would not suffer that another woman should share the\nrule of his household with me. As I showed to him, he had servants in\nplenty and these should be enough, to which he bowed his head and\nanswered that without doubt my will was that of God.\n\nThus it came about that I grew up with my noble father, his adviser\nand his strength, and through him, or rather with him, ruled all his\ngreat tribe, who always worshipped me. Be it admitted that from the\nfirst, or at least from the time that I came to womanhood, I brought\nhim trouble as well as blessing, though through no fault of my own,\nbut because of the beauty with which, as in those days I believed,\nIsis, or Aphrodite, or both of them, had endowed me for their own\ndivine purposes. Very soon this beauty of mine, also my wit and\nknowledge, were noised abroad through all Arabia, so that princes came\nfrom far to court me, and afterward quarrelled and fought, for, being\ngentle-hearted, I said a kind word to everyone of them and left them\nto reason out which was the kindest.\n\nThis, for the most part, they did with spears and arrows after the\nfashion of violent and insensate men, so that there was much fighting\non my account, which made my father some enemies, because the people\nof certain of the princes who were killed swore that I had promised\nmyself in marriage to them. This, however, I had never done, who\ndesired to marry no man that I might become a slave, cooped up in a\nfortress to bear children that I did not desire with some jealous\ntyrant for their father. Nay, being higher-hearted than any of my\ntime, already I sought to rule the world, and if I must have any\nlover, to choose one whom I wished, and, when I wished, to have done\nwith him.\n\nBut at that time I asked no lover who myself was in love--with wisdom.\nKnowledge, I saw, was strength, and if I would rule, first I must\nlearn. Therefore I studied deeply, taking for masters all the wisest\nin Arabia who were proud to teach Ayesha the Beautiful, daughter and\nheiress of Yarab the great chief who could call ten thousand spears to\nhis standards, all of his own tribe; and ten thousand more sworn to us\nbut not of our blood.\n\nI learned of the stars, a deep learning this that taught my soul its\nlittleness, though it is true that while I studied I wondered, as\nstill I wonder now, in which of them I was destined to rule when my\nday on earth was done. For always from the beginning I knew that\nwherever I am, there I must be the first and reign.\n\nPerchance I had learned this aforetime in the halls of Isis who then\nto me had seemed so great, though afterward contemplating those stars\nin the silence of the desert night, I came to understand that even the\nUniversal Mother, as men named her in those far days, was herself but\nsmall, one who must fight for sovereignty with Aphrodite and other\ngods.\n\nHolly has told me much of what the astronomers in these latter years\nhave won of Nature's secrets: of how they number and weigh the stars,\nand measure to a mile their infinite distance from the earth, and how\nassuredly that each of them, even the farthest, is a sun as great or\ngreater than our own, round which revolve worlds unseen. He has been\nastonished also, and affected to disbelieve, when I answered him, that\nwe of Arabia guessed all these things over two thousand years ago, and\nindeed knew some of them. Yet, so it was.\n\nThus communing with greatness, my soul grew ever greater.\n\nMoreover, I sought other and deeper lore. There wandered a certain\nstrange man to our town, Ozal, where my father kept his court, if so\nit may be called, that is when we were not camping with our great\nherds in the desert, as we did at certain seasons of the year after\nthe rains had caused the wilderness to throw up herbage. This man,\nnamed Noot, was always aged and white-haired, ugly to look on, with a\ncurious wrinkled face of the colour of parchment, much such a face as\nthat of Holly will be should he attain to his years. Indeed in this\nand other ways he was so like to Holly that often I think that in him\ndwells something of Noot's spirit now returned again to earth, as that\nof Kallikrates has returned as Leo.\n\nNow this Noot, who came to Egypt none knew whence, for by birth he was\nnot Egyptian, had been the high-priest of Isis and _Kherheb_ or Chief\nMagician in Egypt, one who had much power on earth and still more\nbeyond the earth, since he was in touch with things divine. Moreover,\nhe was an honest magician and told the truth even to kings, as the\ngods and his wisdom showed it to him, and this was the cause of his\ndownfall, for woe betide those who tell the truth to kings or to any\nwho wield the sceptre of their might. On a certain day Nectanebes, the\nfirst of that name, the Pharaoh of Egypt whom others called\nNekht-nebf, after a victory he had gained over the Persians, was\nfilled with pride and took counsel with Noot, his Chief Magician,\nbidding Noot search out the future and tell him of glories to come to\nEgypt and to the Royal House, after he had been gathered to Osiris,\nthat thereon he might feed his soul.\n\nNoot answered that it was wiser to leave the future to care for itself\nand to satisfy his heart with the present and its joys and greatness.\n\nThen the Pharaoh grew wrath and bade him fulfil his command.\n\nSo Noot bowed and went, and alone in some tomb or sanctuary drew the\ncircles, uttered the words of power, and called upon the gods he\nserved to show him such things as should befall to Egypt and to\nPharaoh's House.\n\nThe magic sleep fell upon him and in it appeared the Spirit of Truth\nand spoke to him dreadful words of fate and doom. These she bade him\ndeliver to Pharaoh, but when they were spoken to fly for his life's\nsake from Egypt and seek out a maiden called Ayesha, the daughter of\nYarab, the Sheik of Ozal, and with her take refuge since she was an\nappointed instrument of Heaven. Moreover, this spirit commanded him to\nconsult the maiden Ayesha in everything and impart to her all his\ngathered learning and the very secrets of the gods that had been\nrevealed to him, that to any other it would be death to speak.\n\nNow in the morning Noot went into the presence of Pharaoh who rejoiced\nto see him, and cried,\n\n\"Be welcome, _Kherheb_, the first of all magicians, you that men say\nwere born beyond the earth, you in whom lives the spirit of Maat,\ngoddess of Truth. Tell me now what the gods have revealed to you as to\nthe glories they prepare for the ancient land of Egypt, and the House\nof me the Pharaoh who have made her great again, driving out the dogs\nof Persians.\"\n\n\"Life! Blood! Strength! O Pharaoh!\" answered Noot, saluting in the\nancient form. \"I have heard the word of Pharaoh who commanded me\nagainst my counsel to make divination and to seek to learn of the\nfuture from the gods. Behold! the gods hearkened. Behold! by the mouth\nof Maat, Lady of Truth, the goddess of the land where I was born, they\nspoke to me in the silence of the night. Thus they spoke. 'Say to\nNectanebes who impiously dares to lift the veil of Time, that because\nhe has fought for Egypt against the Barbarians who worship other gods,\nit is granted to him to die in his bed which shall chance ere long.\nSay that after him shall come a usurper whom the Barbarians shall\ndefeat, so that he dies a slave in the land of Persia. Say that after\nhim the son of Pharaoh shall wear the Double Crown and be called by\nthe name of Pharaoh, the last of the true Blood of Egypt who shall\never sit upon its throne. Say that this son of his is accursed because\nhe is in league with evil spirits and has worked apostasy, putting\nabout his neck the chain of Aphrodite of the Greeks and the chains of\nBaal and of Moloch which never can be broken. Therefore, though he\nmake many false offerings, yet is he accursed and the Barbarians shall\novercome him, so that he flees away, nor shall all his magic be a\nshield to him. Because of him Egypt shall fall and her cities shall be\nburned and her children slaughtered and her temples desecrated, and\nnever more shall one of her pure and ancient blood hold her sceptre.'\nSuch is the oracle that the gods have commanded me to speak, O\nPharaoh.\"\n\nNow when Nectanebes heard these awful decrees of Fate upon him and\nupon his son, he trembled and rent his robes. Then rage took him and\nhe reviled Noot the Prophet, calling him a liar and a traitor, and\nsaying that he would make an end of him and his prophecies together.\nBut because they were alone together within a chamber, before he could\nsummon guards to kill him, Noot, helped of Heaven, fled away out of\nthe palace and as darkness was falling, mingled with the throng and\ncould not be found by the soldiers who sought him.\n\nEre daylight he was far from the city and, disguised, escaped from\nEgypt, bringing with him only his _Kherheb's_ staff of power, also the\nancient sacred books of spells or words of strength that were hidden\nin his robes. With these he brought, moreover, a little ancient image\nof Isis which he made use of in his divinations and prayed before by\nday and night.\n\n\nThus it came about awhile later, one eve when I, the young maiden\nAyesha, stood alone in the desert communing with my soul and drawing\nwisdom from the stars, that there appeared before me a withered,\nancient man who, when he saw me, knelt down and bowed to me. I looked\non him and asked,\n\n\"Why, aged One, do you kneel to me who am but a mortal?\"\n\n\"Are you indeed a mortal?\" he asked. \"Methought that I who am the\nhead-priest of Isis saw in you the goddess come to earth, and indeed,\nLady, I seem to see the holy blood of Isis coursing in your veins.\"\n\n\"It is true, Priest, that of this goddess whom my mother worshipped I\nhave dreams and memories and that sometimes she seems to speak with me\nin sleep, yet I tell you that I am but a mortal, the daughter of Yarab\nthe far-famed,\" I answered to him.\n\n\"Then you are that maiden whom I am commanded to seek, she who is\nnamed Ayesha. Know, Lady, that great is your destiny, greater than\nthat of any king, and that it is revealed to me that you will become\nimmortal.\"\n\n\"All who believe on the gods trust to find the pearl, Immortality,\nbeneath Death's waters, O Priest.\"\n\n\"Yes, Lady, but the immortality that is foretold for you is different\nand begins upon the earth, and I confess that I understand it not,\nthough perhaps it may be an immortality of fame.\"\n\n\"Nor I, Priest. But meanwhile, what would you of me?\"\n\n\"Shelter and food, Lady.\"\n\n\"And what can you offer for these, Priest?\"\n\n\"Learning, Lady.\"\n\n\"That I think I have already.\"\n\n\"Nay, Lady Ayesha, not such learning as I can give; the knowledge of\nthe secrets of the gods; spells that will sway the hearts of kings,\nmagic that will show things afar and call ghosts from the grave, power\nthat will set him who wields it upon the pinnacle of worship----\"\n\n\"Stay!\" I broke in. \"You are old and ugly! you are tired, your foot\nbleeds, you seek protection, and it seems to me that you need food.\nHow comes it that one who can command so much lore and power is in\nwant of such things as these that the humblest peasant does not lack,\nand must seek to purchase them with flatteries?\"\n\nWhen he heard these words, of a sudden the aspect of that old man\nchanged. To me his shrunken body seemed to swell, his face grew fierce\nand set, and a strange light shone in his deep eyes.\n\n\"Maiden,\" he said in another voice, \"I perceive that you are in truth\nin need of such a teacher as I am. Had you the inner wisdom, you would\nnot judge by the outward appearance and you would know that ofttimes\nthe gods bring misfortunes upon those they love in order that thereby\nthey may work their ends. Beauty is yours, wit is yours, and a great\ndestiny awaits you, though with it, as I think, great sorrow. Yet one\nthing is lacking to you--humility--and that you must learn beneath the\nrods of destiny. But of these matters we will talk afterward.\nMeanwhile, as you say, I need food and shelter, which are necessary to\nall while still they labour in the flesh. Lead me to your father!\"\n\n\nWithout more talk though not without fear, I guided this strange\nwanderer to our tents, for at the time we were camping in the desert,\nand into the presence of my father, Yarab, who gave him hospitality\nafter the Arab fashion, but save for the common words of courtesy,\nheld no converse with him that night.\n\nOn the following morning before we struck our camp, however, they had\nmuch speech together, and at the end of it I was summoned to the great\ntent.\n\n\"Daughter,\" said my father, pointing to the wanderer who was seated\ncross-legged on a carpet before him after the fashion of an Egyptian\nscribe, \"I have questioned this learned man, our guest. I discover\nfrom him that he is the First Magician of Egypt, the head-priest also\nof the greatest goddess of that land, she whom your mother worshipped.\nAt least, he says he was these things--but now, having quarrelled with\nPharaoh, that he is nothing but a beggar, which is a strange state for\na magician. Also, according to his tale, Pharaoh seeks his life, as he\ndeclares, because of certain prophecies that he made to him concerning\nthe fate of Egypt and of Pharaoh's House. It seems that he desires to\nabide here with us and to impart his wisdom to you, which wisdom, it\nis evident, has brought him to an evil case. Now I ask you, as one\ngifted with discretion beyond your years, what answer shall I return\nto him? If I keep this Noot here, for that he tells me, in his name,\nthough of his race and country he will say nothing, perchance Pharaoh,\nwhose arm is long, will come to seek him and bring war upon us, and if\nI send him away, perchance I turn my back upon a messenger from the\ngods. What then shall I do?\"\n\n\"Ask him, my Father; seeing that one who prophesies evil to the\nPharaoh to his own ruin must be a truthful man.\"\n\nThen my father stroked his long beard, being perplexed, and inquired\nof the wanderer whether he should keep him or send him away.\n\nNoot replied that he thought that my father would do well to send him\naway, but better to keep him. He said that he had no revelation on the\nmatter, though if it were wished he would seek one, but he believed\nthat although his presence might bring trouble, from his dismissal\nwould come yet worse trouble. He added that in a vision he had been\ncommanded by the goddess Isis to find out a certain Lady Ayesha and\nbecome her instructor in mysteries that the purposes of Heaven might\nbe fulfilled, and that it was ill to flout goddesses whose arms were\neven longer than those of Pharaoh.\n\nNow for the second time my father who did nothing great or small\nwithout my counsel, asked my judgment on this matter after I had heard\nthe words of Noot. I pondered, remembering what the wanderer had\npromised to me in the desert, namely, knowledge and the secrets of the\ngods, also spells that would sway the hearts of kings, with the gifts\nof magic and of power. At length I answered,\n\n\"To what end is all this empty talk, my Father? Has not this stranger\neaten of your bread and salt and is it the custom of our people to\ndrive away from their doors for no fault those to whom they have given\nhospitality?\"\n\n\"True,\" said my father. \"If he were to be sent hence, it should have\nbeen done at once. Abide in my shadow, Noot, and pray your gods to\nbring a blessing on me.\"\n\n\nSo Noot, the priest and prophet, remained with us and from the first\nday of his coming, opened out to my eager eyes all the scrolls of his\nsecret lore. Still it is true that he brought to my father, not\nblessing but death, as shall be told, though this did not come for\nmany moons.\n\nMeanwhile he taught and I learned, for his knowledge flowed into my\nsoul like a river into the desert and filled its thirsty sand with\nlife. Of all that I learned from him, because of the oaths I swore,\neven now it is not lawful that I should write, but it is true that in\nthose years of study I grew near to the gods and wrested many a secret\nfrom the clenched hands of Nature.\n\nMoreover, though as yet I did not take the vows, I became a votary of\nIsis, as Noot, her high-priest, had authority to make me, and one of\nthe inner circle. Yes, I determined even then that I would forswear\nmarriage and all fleshly joys and make to Isis the offering of my\nlife, while she through her priest vowed to me in return such power\nand wisdom as had scarce been given to any woman before me.\n\nThus the time went by till at length fell the blow and I--for all my\nwisdom--never heard Aphrodite laughing behind her veil. Nor indeed did\nNoot, but then he was an old man who, as I drew out of him, save those\nof his mother, had not once touched a woman's lips. All learning was\nhis, but it seemed that in his search for it there were some things he\nhad passed by. At least so I believed, or rather half-believed, at\nthis time, but as I learned afterward, there are matters upon which\neven the most holy think it no shame to lie, since in the end Noot\nconfessed to me that in his youth he had been as are other men. Also I\nthink that he heard the laughter of Aphrodite, though I did not.\nHowever these things may be, as I was to discover afterward, Mother\nIsis is a stern mistress to whoever looks the other way.\n\nAlso, although Noot told me much, he hid more. Not for many a year was\nI to learn that he was a citizen of the ancient, ruined land of K\u00f4r\nand the only one who knew the fearful mystery it hid, which in a far\nday to come he was commanded to reveal to me, Ayesha, and to no other\nman or woman. Nor did he tell me that it was the purpose of Heaven\nthat under her other shape and name of Truth I should again establish\nthe worship of Isis in that land and once more make of it a queen of\nthe world. Yet these things were so and therefore was he sent to me\nand for no other reason. Therefore was he commanded to reveal the doom\nof Egypt to Nectanebes, that this Pharaoh in his wrath might drive\nhim, a wanderer, to our tents at Ozal there to dwell for years and\ninstruct me, the chosen, in all things that I must learn, so that when\nat last the appointed hour dawned, I might be fitted for my mighty\ntask.\n\n\nBut all this while Aphrodite laughed on behind her veil!\n\n\n CHAPTER III\n The Battle and the Flight\n\nIn the end trouble came upon us thus. As I have said already, my\nbeauty was the talk of men throughout Arabia, and of women also, who\nwere jealous of it, since those who travelled in caravans bore its\nfame from tribe to tribe and those who sailed upon the sea took up the\nreport and carried it to distant shores. But now to this tale was\nadded another, namely that the wearer of so much loveliness was also a\nvessel into which the gods had poured all their wisdom, so that there\nwere few marvels which she could not work and little or nothing that\nshe did not know. It was added, truly enough, that the channel through\nwhich this wisdom flowed into her heart was a certain Noot who\naforetime had been _Kherheb_ in Egypt and high-priest of Isis.\n\nPresently this tale, carried by the mariners, came to the ears of the\nPharaoh Nectanebes in his city of Sais, who knew well enough that Noot\nwas the prophet whom he had driven from the land and whom by now he\ndesired to have back again, for his inspired counsel's sake.\n\nThe end of it was that the Pharaoh sent an embassy to my father,\nYarab, demanding that I should be given to him or to his son, the\nyoung Nectanebes, I know not which, in marriage, and that Noot should\nreturn to Egypt as my guardian, and there be reinstated in all his\noffices.\n\nMy father answered, speaking with my voice, that least of anything did\nI desire to become one of the women of Pharaoh, a man already near the\ngrave, or even of Pharaoh's son, I who was a free-born Arabian, and\nthat as for Noot, his head felt safer on his shoulders in Ozal where\nhe was an honoured guest, than it would at Pharaoh's court.\n\nThese words Nectanebes took ill, so ill indeed that, for this and\nother reasons of policy, he sent an army to invade Yaman the Happy,\nand to capture me and kill Noot, or drag him away to Egypt in chains.\nOf all these plans we had warnings, partly through the priests of Isis\nin Egypt who still acknowledged Noot as their head, although another\nhad been raised up in his place and filled his office, and partly\nthrough dreams and revelations that came to him from Heaven. Therefore\nwe made ready and gathered in great strength to fight against Pharaoh.\n\nAt length his hosts came, borne for the most part in ships of Cyprus\nand of Sidon whereof at that time the kings were his allies, or rather\nvassals.\n\nThey landed upon a plain by the seashore and watching from our hills\nbeyond, we suffered them to land. But that night, or rather just\nbefore the following dawn when their camp was still unfortified, we\npoured down upon them from our hills. Great was the fray! for they\nfought well. I led the horsemen of our tribe in this, my first battle,\nand by the light of the rising sun charged again and yet again into\nthe heart of the hosts of Pharaoh, having no fear since I knew well\nthat none could harm me.\n\nThere was a certain company of Greeks, two thousand of them perhaps,\nwho served Pharaoh, and in the centre of them was his general, which\ncompany stood firm when the others fled. Thrice we attacked it with\nthe horsemen and thrice were beaten back. Then my father came to my\naid with his picked kinsmen mounted upon camels. Again we charged and\nthis time broke through. Those about Pharaoh's general saw me and\nstrove to make me captive, hoping to carry me back to him, whatever\nhappened to the host. They surrounded me, one caught the bridle of my\nhorse. Him I slew with a javelin, but others snatched at me. Then I\ncried to Isis and I think that she clothed me in some garment of her\nmajesty, since foes fell away in front of me, calling out--\n\n\"This is a goddess, not a woman!\"\n\nYet I was cut off, ringed round by them, for all my companions were\nslain or driven back.\n\nThey pressed in on me to take me living, till I was hedged in with a\nring of swords. My father appeared mounted on his swift white\ndromedary that was called Desert Wind, followed by others. They broke\nthrough the ring and there was a fierce fight. My father fell, pierced\nby the spear of the general of the Egyptians. I saw it and, filled\nwith madness, I charged at that general and drove my javelin through\nhis throat, so that he fell also. Then a cry went up and the host of\nPharaoh melted away, flying for the ships. Some gained them, but the\nmost remained dead upon the shore or were taken captive.\n\nThus ended that battle and such was the answer that we of Ozal sent to\nPharaoh Nectanebes. Therefore it was also that because of the death of\nmy beloved father at their hands I hated Egypt, and not only Egypt but\nCyprus and Sidon in whose ships her hosts had been borne to attack us,\nyes, and swore to be avenged upon them all, which oath I kept to the\nfull.\n\nNow my father being dead, I, the daughter of Yarab, became ruler of\nour tribe in his place with Noot for my counsellor. For certain years\nI ruled it well. Yet troubles arose--in this fashion. By now the fame\nof my glory and loveliness had spread through all the earth, so that,\nmore even than before, I was beset with demands for my hand from\nchiefs and kings who went well-nigh mad when I refused them. In the\nend, being brothers in their grief because I would have none of them,\nI whom they called by the names of Hathor and Aphrodite and other\ngoddesses famed for beauty according to their separate worships, they\nmade a great conspiracy together and sent envoys bearing a message.\nThis was the message:--\n\nThat unless my people would give me up so that my husband might be\nchosen from among their number by the casting of lots, they would join\ntheir armies together and fall upon us and kill out our tribe so that\nnot one remained to look upon the sun, save myself alone, who should\nthen be the reward of him who could take me.\n\nNow when I heard this I was filled with rage and having caused those\nmessengers to be scourged before me, sent them back to their masters\nbearing my defiance. But when they were gone, the elders of the tribe\ncame to me and said through their spokesman,\n\n\"O Daughter of Yarab, O Ayesha the Wise and Lovely, we adore you as\none beyond price. Yet it is true that we love our wives and children\nand desire to live, not to die. How can we who are but few stand\nagainst so many kings? We pray you, therefore, Ayesha, to choose one\nof them to be your husband, for then because of jealousy doubtless\nthey will destroy each other and we, your servants, shall be left in\npeace. Or if you will not marry, then we pray you to hide your beauty\nelsewhere for a while, so that the kings do not come to seek it here.\"\n\nI hearkened and was angry because of the cowardice of this people who\nset their own welfare above my will and refused to fight with those\nwho threatened me. Still, being politic, I hid my mind and said that I\nwould consider and give them an answer on the third day. Then I took\ncounsel of Noot and together we made divinations and prayed to the\ngods, but most of all to Isis.\n\nThe end of it was that before the dawn on the second day a small\ncaravan of five camels might have been seen, had there been any to\nwatch, leaving the city of Ozal and heading for the sea.\n\nOn the first of those camels sat an old merchant. On the second his\nwife or his daughter, or his woman, heavily veiled. On the three\nothers was his merchandise. Woven carpets it seemed to be, though if\nopened, those carpets would have proved to be filled with a very great\ntreasure in gold and pearls and sapphires and other gems, which for\ngenerations had been gathered together by my father, Yarab, and those\nwho went before him out of the profits of their trade and of their\nflocks and herds, and hid away against the time of need.\n\nThat merchant was Noot the priest and prophet, and that woman was\nI--Ayesha. That treasure was mine and the camels were led by certain\nmen who had served my father and now served me, being sworn to me by\nsecret oaths that might not be broken.\n\nWe gained the sea and took ship to Egypt in a vessel that I had caused\nto be prepared. Yes, before we were missed the coast of Arabia was\nbehind us, since I had given it out that I had gone to a secret place\nto consider of my answer to the elders of the people. As I heard\nafterward, when it was known that I had turned my back on them, there\nwere woe and lamentations in every household of the tribe.\nUnderstanding what they had lost the men among them beat their breasts\nand wept, though it is said that some of the women rejoiced, because I\noutshone them all and they were jealous of me.\n\nAfterward the kings and chiefs of whom I have spoken descended upon\nthem to seek me, whereupon my people swore that I had been changed\ninto a goddess and gone up into heaven. Some believed this, declaring\nthat they had always held me to be more than mortal, but others of a\ncoarser, common mind declared that I had been hidden away, and falling\non the tribe, dispersed it, seizing many and selling them into\nslavery.\n\nThus then did the children of Yarab pay the price of their treachery\nto me, though I have heard that afterward once more they became a\npeople under the rule of some baseborn grandson of my father, and\nworshipped me as a guardian goddess from generation to generation,\nhaving come to believe that I was not a woman, but a spirit whom the\ngods sent to dwell with them for a while.\n\n\nSo Noot and I came safely to Naukratis, a Grecian city upon the\nCanopic mouth of the Nile, and there abode disguised as a merchant and\nhis daughter trading in precious stones and other costly wares, and\nthus adding to my wealth, though of this there was little need, since\nalready it was great.\n\nIt was here that for the first time I went veiled in the Eastern\nfashion, in order to hide my beauty from the eyes of men.\n\nUnder cover of this trade I and Noot lived for two years or more while\nI studied the lore and language of the Egyptians, learning to read\ntheir picture-writing which the Greeks called hieroglyphs, and\nmastering their history. Also I perfected myself in the Grecian tongue\nand read the works of their great writers as well as those of the\nRomans. Moreover, I learned other things, since at the beginning of\nthe second year Nectanebes, the Pharaoh who had sought me in marriage,\nbeing now dead, and Egypt for a while in the hands of the usurper\nZehir, who some say was his son born of a concubine, we travelled up\nthe Nile disguised and came to the ancient city of Thebes. This we did\nslowly, stopping at every great town, where we received the\nhospitality of the head priests of the various gods, Ammon, Ptah, and\nthe rest, since to these priests Noot by secret signs revealed\nhimself. Indeed the news of our coming was passed on before us so that\nalways we found some waiting to welcome us who, once within the temple\nwalls, were treated like the greatest, although we were garbed as\nhumble travellers. All of these priests we found full of rage, both\nbecause the gods of the Greeks, and even of the Persians and\nSidonians, were being set above their own, and still more for the\nreason that their revenues were seized and used to pay Grecian\nmercenaries, so that they who had been very rich were now poor and the\ngods lacked their offerings, nor could their holy temples be repaired.\n\nOf all these things I took note whose heart was set upon one thing\nonly,--to bring about the fall of the Egyptians and their allies that\nhad slain my father whom I loved, as indeed I was fated to do.\nTherefore by a word here and a word there I blew the anger that\nsmouldered in them to flame, hinting of rebellion and the setting up\nof a new dynasty in Egypt, of which at that time I thought to be the\nfirst, a priestess-queen, Isis-come-to-Earth. Of this plan I hinted\nalso through the mouth of Noot, nor was it ill received, since already\nthose priests to whom he had told my history and the revelations that\nhad come to him concerning me, looked on me as something more than\nwoman. Could a mortal maid, they asked, have so much beauty and so\nmuch learning; was I not in truth a goddess clothed in woman's flesh?\n\nOnly on the road I purposed to tread there was this stumbling block,\nthat each of those high-priests desired that he himself, or at least\none who worshipped _his_ god, were it Ammon or Osiris or Ptah, or\nKhonsu, should be the Pharaoh of that new dynasty. For they were\njealous each of the other and could not agree together, as is common\namong rival priests.\n\nWe passed on to Thebes where I saw the wonders of the mighty temples\nwhich stood there reared by a hundred kings, which Holly tells me now\nare but ruins, though the great hall of columns among which I used to\nwander still stands in part. Also I crossed the Nile and visited the\ntombs of the Pharaohs.\n\nStanding beneath the moon in that desolate Valley of Dead Kings, for\nthe first time, I think I came to know all the littleness of Life and\nof the vanities of earth. Life, I saw, was but a dream; its ambitions\nand its joys were naught but dust. Those kings and those queens, some\nof them had been very great in their day; the people worshipped them\nas gods and when they stretched out their sceptres, the world\ntrembled. And now what were they? But names, if so much as a name\nremained of them.\n\nI saw a great queen whose tomb some while before had been broken into\nby robbers, Persians or Greeks I was told. They had unrolled her mummy\nand stripped her of her royal ornaments and there she lay, she in whom\nhad centred all the world's pomp, a little black and withered thing,\ngrinning at us from the dust, like a dead ape, a sight so strange and\nunhuman that the priest who guided us, a coarse fellow, broke into\nlaughter. I remembered that laugh and afterward paid him back for it,\nthough he never knew whence his misfortune came.\n\nI, Ayesha, have many sins to my count and at that time was full of\nfaults, as perchance still I am to-day. Thus I was proud of my beauty\nand my genius which were given to me above any other woman; passionate\nand revengeful, too, and led on by ambitions. Yet this I swear by all\nthe gods of all the heavens, that ever in my secret self I have set\nthe spirit above the flesh and desired to attain to another glory than\nthat of earth. From the flesh came my sins, because it was begotten of\nother flesh and the flesh is sin incarnate. Yet my soul sins not,\nbecause it comes from that which is sinless and, its tasks\naccomplished here, laden with knowledge and purified by suffering, to\nthis holy fount at last it shall return again. At the least such are\nmy faith and hope.\n\nSo it came about that there in the Valley of Dead Kings I swore myself\nto the worship of God (since all the gods are one God) and to use the\nworld as a ladder whereby I might climb nearer to His throne.\n\nThus I swore with old Noot for witness, noting that he shook his wise\nhead and smiled a little at the oath. For if I forgot Aphrodite and\nthe flesh, he remembered them, or perchance he to whom the Future\nspoke already guessed something of my fate which it was not lawful\nthat he should tell. Also at that time I knew nothing of that\neverlasting King of Fire who dwells in majesty beneath the rocks of\nK\u00f4r, nor of his evil gifts. Least of all did I know that Noot himself\nwas by inheritance and appointment the guardian of the Fire.\n\nFrom Thebes we passed up Nile to Phil\u00e6 on the Isle of Elephantine,\nwhere Mother Isis had her holy sanctuary, and Nectanebes, the first of\nthat name, he who had sought me as a wife and now was not long dead,\nhad begun to build a temple of surpassing beauty to the goddess, which\ntemple was completed in my time by his son, the second Nectanebes, he\nwith whom I had to do and brought to nothingness.\n\nHere I abode a year making final preparations utterly to vow myself to\nthe goddess. I kept the fasts, I purified my heart, I passed the\ntrials and at length alone I seemed to die and descended into the gulf\nof death and fled through the Halls of Death pursued by terrors, till\nI saw, or dreamed I saw, the goddess in her glory and fell swooning at\nher feet. More I may not say, even now that over two thousand years\nhave passed since that holy hour of fears and victory, save this one\nthing which indeed has come to pass. When I arose from that swoon\ncertain words were written on my mind, though whether the goddess whom\nI seemed to see or some spirit spoke them to me I do not know. These\nwere the words:--\n\n\"Far to the south in this land of Libya beyond the region of Punt, is\nan ancient city, whence my worship came ere Egypt had a people.\nThither, Daughter of Isis, shalt thou bear it back and there shalt\nthou blow upon it with thy breath and keep alive the holy spark that\nat last is doomed to die upon the earth amidst those snows which as\nyet no southern foot has trod. There, Daughter, in that fallen and\ndeserted land, my prophet Noot shall welcome thee. There shall he\nguard the Door of Life which of mortal women thou alone shalt pass.\nThere shalt thou stain thy hands with blood, and there in solitude\namidst the tombs, with tears from thy repentant eyes, shalt thou wash\nthy sin away. Yet of the seed that thou sowest in fire in the womb of\nthe world, thou shalt reap the harvest upon the mountain tops amidst\nthe snows.\"\n\nSuch were the words branded upon my memory when I awoke from the swoon\nafter the night of trial. Later I repeated them to Noot, my Master,\npraying him to read their meaning, which either he could not or would\nnot do. He said, however, it was true that far to the south there\nstood a great city, now a ruin sparsely peopled, whence came the first\nforefathers of the Egyptians thousands of years before the pyramids\nwere built. He said also that he knew the road to that city by sea and\nby land, though how he knew it he would not tell. Nor would he\ninterpret the rest of those dream words. Yet, when I harassed him with\nquestions he said carelessly, as one who hazards a guess, that\nperchance the goddess meant that it would be my lot after its fall or\ncorruption in Egypt, to bear back her worship to this its earlier home\nand there establish a great nation of her servants. As to the \"Door of\nLife\" that I alone could pass, of which he was named the Guardian, and\nthe \"northern snows,\" he declared that he knew not what was meant by\nthem, but doubtless these things would be made clear in their season.\n\nSo he spoke somewhat lightly, like one who humours a frightened child,\nas though he would make me think that I had but dreamed a dream. This\nindeed I came to believe, as is the fashion of mankind concerning\nthings that they cannot see or handle, however real those things may\nappear in the hour of their experience. For these in the end always we\nwrite down as dreams, such as haunt us by the thousand in our sleep.\n\nYet now that two thousand years have gone by, I know that this dream\nwas true. For is there not a city called K\u00f4r and was I not there\ndoomed to find the Door of Life whereof Noot was guardian? And did I\nnot sin there and from generation to generation wash the shed blood\nfrom off my hands with tears of bitterest repentance, and afterward\nexpiate that sin in loss and shame and agony? And lastly do I not reap\nthat harvest of tears upon the mountain tops amidst the northern snows\nwhither the spirit bore me, still holding in those hands the embers of\nthe worship of that regnant Good who to us of the ancient world was\nknown as the Universal Mother to whom I swore myself in Phil\u00e6's\ntemples?\n\nBut enough of these things now; let them be spoken of in their season.\n\n\n CHAPTER IV\n The Kiss of Fate\n\nThere came a man to Phil\u00e6. Watching from a pylon top whither I had\ngone to pray alone, I saw him land upon the island and from far off\nnoted that he was a godlike man, clad in armour such as the Grecians\nused, over which was thrown a common cloak, hooded as though to\ndisguise him; one who had the air of a warrior. At a distance from the\ntemple gate he halted and looked upward as though something drew his\nglance to me standing high above him upon the pylon top. I could not\nsee his face because of the shadow thrown by the great walls behind\nwhich the sun was sinking, but doubtless he could see me well enough,\nwhose shape was outlined against the veil of golden light that must\nhave touched me with its glory, though, as that light was behind me,\nmy face also would be hidden from him. At least he stood a little\nwhile as though amazed, staring upward steadily, then bowed his head\nand passed into the temple, followed by men bearing burdens.\n\nSome pilgrim to the shrine, I thought to myself, then turned my mind\nto other matters, remembering that with men I had no more to do. Thus\nfor the first time here in the body, all unknowing, I looked upon\nKallikrates and he looked on me, but often afterward I have thought\nthat there was a veiled lesson or a parable in the fashion of this\nmeeting.\n\nFor did I not stand far above him, clothed in the glory of heaven's\ngold, and did he not stand far beneath in the gloom of the shadows\nthat lay upon the lowly earth, so that between us there was space\nunclimbable? And has it not been ever thus throughout the centuries,\nfor am I not still upon the pylon top clad in the splendour of the\nspirit, and is he not still far beneath me wrapped with the shadows of\nthe flesh? And since as yet the secret of the pylon stair is hidden\nfrom him, must I not descend to earth if we would meet, leaving the\nlight and my pride of place that I may walk humbly with him in the\nshadow? And is it not often so between those that love, that one is\nset far above the other, though still this rope of love draws them\ntogether, uplifting the one, or dragging down the other?\n\nThe man passed into the temple and that night I heard he was a Grecian\ncaptain of high blood, one who though young had seen much service in\nthe wars and done great deeds, Kallikrates by name, who had come to\nseek the counsel of the goddess, bringing precious gifts of gold and\nEastern silks, the spoil of battles in which he had fought.\n\nI asked why such an one sought the wisdom of Isis, and was told that\nit was because his heart was troubled. It seemed that he had been\ndwelling at Pharaoh's court as a captain of the Grecian guard, and\nthat there he had quarrelled with and slain one who was as a brother\nto him, if indeed he were not his very brother. This ill deed, it was\nsaid, preyed upon his soul and drove him into the arms of Mother Isis,\nseeking for pardon and that comfort which he could not find at the\nhand of any of the gods of the Greeks.\n\nAgain I asked idly enough why this Kallikrates had killed his familiar\nfriend or his brother, whichever it might be. The answer was--because\nof some highly placed maiden whom both of them loved, so that they\nfought from jealousy, after the fashion of men. For this reason the\nlife of Kallikrates was held to be forfeit according to the stern\nmilitary law of the Grecian soldiers, and he must fly. Also the deed\nhad tarnished that great lady's name; also his heart was broken with\nremorse and hither he came to pray Isis to mend it of her mercy, he\nwho had forsaken the world.\n\nThe tale moved me a little, but again I cast it from my mind, for are\nnot such things common among men? Always the story is the same: two\nmen and a woman, or two women and a man, and bloodshed and remorse and\nmemories which will not die and the cry for pardon that is so hard to\nfind.\n\nYes, I cast it from my mind, saying lightly--oh! those evil-omened\nwords--that doubtless his own blood in a day to come would pay for\nthat which he had spilt.\n\n\nFor a while, some months indeed, this Grecian Kallikrates vanished\nfrom my sight and even from my thoughts, save when, from time to time,\nI heard of him as studying the Mysteries among the priests, having, it\nwas said, determined to renounce the world and be sworn to the service\nof the goddess. Noot told me that he was very earnest in this design\nand made great progress in the faith, which pleased the priests who\ndesired above all things to convert those that served Grecian gods\nwith whom the deities of Egypt, and above all Isis, were at war.\nTherefore they hastened his preparation so that as soon as might be he\nshould be bound to the Heavenly Queen by bonds that could not be\nloosed.\n\nAt length his fasts and instruction were completed; his trials had\nbeen passed and the hour came when he must make his last confession to\nthe goddess and swear the awful oaths to her very self.\n\nNow since Isis did not descend to earth to stand face to face with\nevery neophyte, it was needful in this great ceremony that one filled\nwith her spirit should take her place and as may be guessed, that one\nwas I, Ayesha the Arab. To speak truth, in all Egypt, because of my\nbeauty, my learning, and the grace that was given to me, there was\nnone so fitting to wear her mantle as myself. Indeed afterward this\nwas acknowledged when, with a single voice, the Colleges of her\nservants throughout the land, men and women together, promoted me to\nbe her high-priestess, and gave me, who aforetime among them was known\nby the title of Wisdom's Daughter, the new name of _Isis-come-to-earth_,\nor in shorter words, _The Isis_. For my own name of Ayesha I kept hid\nlest it should be discovered that I was that chieftainess, the child of\nYarab, who had defeated the army of Nectanebes.\n\nTherefore at a certain hour of the night, draped in the holy robes,\nwearing on my brow the vulture cap and the bent symbol of the moon,\nholding in my hand the _sistrum_ and the cross of Life, I was\nconducted to the pillared sanctuary and seated alone upon the throne\nof blackest marble, with the round symbol of the world for my\nfootstool.\n\nThus, having learned my part and the ancient hallowed words that I\nmust say, I sat awhile wondering in my heart whether Isis herself\ncould be more glorious or more fair. So indeed did the priests and\npriestesses who saw me thus arrayed and bent the knee to me as though\nI were the very goddess, which in truth many of the humbler among them\nhalf believed.\n\nThus I sat in the moonlight that flowed from the unroofed hall beyond,\nwhile the carven gods watched me with their quiet eyes.\n\nAt length I heard the sound of footsteps whereon there came a\npriestess and flung over me the white veil of innocence sewn with\ngolden stars that until the appointed moment must hide Isis from her\nworshipper. The priestess withdrew and, wrapped in the dark, hooded\nrobe that signified the stained flesh about to be cast away, which hid\nall of him so that his face could not be seen, came that tall neophyte\nled by two priests who held his right hand and his left. I noted those\nhands because they were so white against the blackness of the robe,\nand even by the moonlight saw that they were beautiful, long and thin\nand shapely, though the palm of one, the right, was somewhat broadened\nas though by long handling of the tools of war.\n\nThe priests led him to the entrance of the shrine and in hushed\nwhispers bade him kneel upon a footstool and make his sacrifice and\nconfession to the goddess as he had been taught to do. Then they\ndeparted leaving us alone.\n\nThere followed silence which at length I broke, whispering,\n\n\"Who is this that comes to visit the Mother in her earthly shrine and\nwhat is his prayer to the Queen of Heaven and Earth?\"\n\nThough I spoke so gently and so low, perhaps because of their very\nsweetness, my words seemed to frighten him, or perhaps he believed\nthat he stood in the very presence of the goddess; at least he\nanswered in a voice that trembled,\n\n\"O holy Queen adored, in the world I was named Kallikrates the comely.\nBut the priests, O Queen, have given me a new name, and it is,\n_Lover-of-Isis_.\"\n\n\"And what have you to say to Isis, O Lover-of-Isis?\"\n\n\"O Queen eternal, I have to tell my sins and ask her pardon for them,\nI who have passed the Trials and am accepted by her servants. If it is\ngranted, then to her I must make the oath, binding myself eternally to\nlove and serve her, her and no other in heaven or on earth.\"\n\n\"Set out those sins, O Lover-of-Isis, that my Majesty may judge of\nthem, whether they can be forgiven or are beyond forgiveness,\" I\nanswered in the words of the appointed ritual.\n\nThen he began and told a tale that made me redden behind my veil, for\nall of it had to do with women, and never before had I learned what\nwantons those Greeks could be. Also he told of men whom he had slain\nin war, one of them in the battle against my tribe, in which strangely\nenough it seemed he had fought as a lad, for this man was a great\nwarrior. Of these killings, however, I took no account, because they\nhad been of those who were the enemies of himself or of his cause.\n\nIn stern silence I listened, noting that save for these matters of\nlight love and fightings, the man seemed innocent enough, for in his\nstory there was naught of baseness or of betrayal. Moreover, it seemed\nthat he was one in whom the spirit had striven against the flesh, and\nwho, however much his feet were tangled in the poisonous snares of\nearth, from time to time had set his eyes on Heaven.\n\nAt length he paused and I asked of him,\n\n\"Is the black count finished? Tell now the truth and dare to hold\nnothing back from the goddess who notes all.\"\n\n\"Nay, O Queen,\" he answered, \"the worst is yet to come. I came to\nEgypt as a captain of the Grecian guard that watches the House of\nPharaoh at Sais. With me came another man, my half-brother, for our\nfather was the same, with whom I was brought up and loved as never I\nloved any other man, and who loved me. He was a glorious warrior,\nthough some held that I was more handsome in my person, Tisisthenes by\nname, that in my Grecian tongue in which I speak means the Avenger.\nThus was he called because my father, whose first-born he was, desired\nthat he might grow up to work vengeance upon the Persians who slew his\nfather named like myself, Kallikrates, the most beauteous Spartan that\nwas ever born. Foully they slew him before the battle of Plat\u00e6a,\nwhilst he was aiding the great Pausanius to make sacrifice to the\ngods. This Tisisthenes my brother I killed with my own hand.\"\n\n\"For what cause did you kill him?\"\n\n\"There was a royal maiden at that court, one fairer than any woman has\nbeen, is, or will be--ask not her name, O Mother, though doubtless it\nis known to you already. This lady both of us saw at the same time and\nby the decree of Aphrodite both of us loved. As it chanced it was I\nwho won her favour, not my brother. We were spied upon; the tale was\ntold; trouble fell upon that royal maiden who, when she should be old\nenough, was sworn in marriage to a distant king. To save her name she\nmade denial, as she must do. She swore there was naught between her\nand me, and to prove it turned her face from me and toward my brother.\nI came upon them together in a garden. She had plucked a flower which\nshe gave to him and he kissed the hand that held the flower. She saw\nme and fled away. I, maddened with jealousy, smote my beloved brother\nin the face and forced him to fight with me. We fought. He guarded\nhimself but ill, as though he cared nothing of the end of that fray. I\ncut him down. He lay before me dying, but ere he died, he spoke:\n\n\"'This is a very evil business,' he said. 'Know, Kallikrates, my most\nbeloved brother, that what you saw in the garden between that royal\nmaid and myself was but a plot to save you both, since thereby I\npurposed to take on to my own head the weight of your transgression\nagainst the law of this land, because she prayed it and it was my\nwish. This I have done, and for this reason I suffered you to slay me,\nthough during that fight twice I could have pierced you, because you\nwere blinded with rage and forgot your swordsmanship. Now it will be\nsaid that you found me pursuing this royal maiden and rightly slew me\naccording to your duty and that it was I who loved her and not you, as\nhas been commonly reported. Yet in truth I love her well and am glad\nto die because it was to you that her heart turned and not to me; also\nbecause thereby I save both her and you. Yet, Kallikrates, my brother,\nthe gods give me wisdom and foresight in this the hour of my death,\nand I say that you will do well to have done with this lady and all\nwomen, and to seek rest in the bosom of the gods, since, if you do\nnot, great trouble will come upon you, and through this same curse of\njealousy such a death as mine shall be yours also. Now let us who are\nthe victims of Fate kiss each other on the brow as we used to do when\nwe were children, playing together in the happy fields of Greece, from\nwhom death was yet a long way off, forgiving each other all and hoping\nthat we may meet once more in the region of the Shades.'\n\n\"So we embraced, and my brother Tisisthenes gave up his spirit in my\narms and looking on him I wished that I were dead in his place. Then\nas I turned to go the soldiers of our company found me and seeing that\nI had slain my brother, would have brought me to trial, not because we\nhad fought together, but because he was my superior in rank and\ntherefore I who, being under his command, drew sword on him, by the\nlaw of the Greeks, must die. Yet before I could be put upon my trial,\nsome of those who loved me and guessed the truth of the business\nthrust me out of our camp disguised, with all the treasure that I had\nwon in war, bidding me hide myself awhile till the matter was\nforgotten. O Queen, I did not desire to go; nay, I desired to stay and\nto pay the price of my sin. But they would not have it so. I think\nindeed that there were others behind, great ones of Egypt, moving in\nthis matter; at least I was thrust forth, all being made easy for me,\nand all eyes growing blind.\"\n\nAgain he paused, and I, Ayesha, clothed as the goddess, asked,\n\n\"And what did you then, you who could slay your brother for the sake\nof woman?\"\n\n\"Then, Divine One, I fled up Nile where, because of the trouble that\nwas in the land, Pharaoh's arm could not reach me, nor the arm of the\ncommander of the Greeks. Tarrying not and without speech with that\nhigh maiden who was the cause of my sin, I fled up Nile.\"\n\n\"Why did you fly up Nile and not back to your own people, O most\nsinful man?\"\n\n\"Because my heart is broken, Queen, and I desired to seek the mercy of\nIsis whose law I had learned already and to become her priest. I knew\nthat those who bow themselves to her may look no more on woman, but\nthenceforth must live virgin to the death, and it was my will to look\nno more on woman, since woman had stained my hands with a brother's\nblood, and therefore I hated her.\"\n\nNow I, Ayesha, asked,\n\n\"What gods did you worship before your heart was turned to Isis, Queen\nof Heaven?\"\n\n\"I worshipped the gods of Greece and first among them Aphrodite, Lady\nof Love.\"\n\n\"Who has paid you well for your service, making of you a murderer of\none of your own blood who, before she blinded your eyes, was more to\nyou than any on the earth. Do you then renounce this wanton\nAphrodite?\"\n\n\"Aye, Queen, I renounce her for ever. Never more will I offer at her\naltars or look on woman in the way of love. If I may have pardon for\nmy sins, here and now I vow myself to Isis as her faithful priest and\nservant. Here and now I blot the name of Aphrodite from my heart; yea,\nI reject her gifts and tread down all her memories beneath my aspiring\nfeet that at last shall bear my soul to peace.\"\n\nThus the man spoke in a quivering and earnest voice, and was silent.\nYes, deep silence reigned in that holy place, whilst I, Ayesha,\nalthough it is true that as a woman I misdoubted me of such rash\noaths, as the minister of the goddess, prepared myself to grant pardon\nto this seeker in the hallowed, immemorial words, and to open to his\ntroubled heart the doors of purity and rest eternal.\n\nThen suddenly in that silence clearly I heard the sound of silvern\nlaughter, soft, sweet laughter that seemed to come from the skies\nabove and though it was so low to fill the shrine and all the hall\nbeyond. I looked about me but could see naught. It would seem, too,\nthat the Greek heard also, for he turned his head and looked behind\nhim, then once more let it fall upon his hands.\n\nWhence came that sound? Could it be that she of Paphos----? Nay, it\nwas impossible, and not thus would I be turned from my office, I who\nwas clothed with the robe and for that hour wielded the might of Isis.\n\n\"Hearken, O man, in the world named Kallikrates,\" I said. \"On behalf\nof Isis, the All-Mother, goddess of virtue and of wisdom, speaking\nwith her voice, hearing with her ears, and filled with her soul, I\nwash you clean of all your sins and accept you as her priest,\npromising to you light burdens on the earth and beyond the earth great\nrewards for ever. First swear the oath that may not be broken, and\nthen draw near that I may kiss you on the brow, accepting you as the\nslave and lover of Isis, from this day until the moon, her heavenly\nthrone, shall crumble into nothingness.\"\n\nHaving spoken thus, letting the words fall one by one, slowly as the\ntears of the penitent fell upon the ground, I uttered the oath, the\nform of which even now I must not write.\n\nIt was a dreadful oath covering all things, and binding him who took\nit to Isis alone, an oath that if it were forgot wrought upon the\ntraitor the agelong doom of death in this world and woe in the worlds\nto come, till by slow steps, with pierced heart and bleeding feet, the\nholy height from which he had fallen should be climbed again.\n\nAt length it was finished and he said faintly,\n\n\"I swear! With fear and trembling still I swear!\"\n\nThen I beckoned to him with the _sistrum_ of which the little shaken\nbells made a faint compelling music that already he had learned to\nfollow, and he came and kneeled before me. There I laid the Cross of\nLife upon his head and gave him blessing, laid it upon his lips and\ngave him wisdom, laid it upon his heart and gave him existence for\nthousands upon thousands of years. All these things I did in the name\nand with the strength of Isis the Mother.\n\nCame the last rite, the greeting of the Mother to her child new-born\nin spirit, the rite of the Kiss of welcome. At that moment supreme a\nlight fell on me from above: perchance it came from Heaven, perchance\nit was an art of the watching priests; I do not know. At least it fell\nupon me illumining my glittering robes and jewelled headdress with a\nsoft splendour in the darkness of that shrine. At that moment, too, at\na touch my veil fell down, so that the moonlight struck full upon my\nface making it mystical and lovely in the frame of my flowing hair.\n\nThe priest new-ordained lifted his bent head that I might consecrate\nhis brow with the Kiss of welcome, and his hood fell back. The\nmoonlight shone on his face also, his beautiful face like to that of a\nsculptured Grecian god, shapely, fine-featured, large-eyed, and\ncrowned with little golden curls--for as yet he was unshorn; yes, a\nface more beautiful than that which I had seen on any man, set above\na warrior's tall and sinewy form.\n\nBy Isis! I knew this face; it was that which had haunted me from\nchildhood, that which often I had seen in a dream of halls beyond the\nearth, that of a man who in this dream had been sworn to me to\ncomplete my womanhood. Oh! I could not doubt, it was the same, the\nvery same, and looking on it, the curse of Aphrodite fell upon me and\nfor the first time I knew the madness of our mortal flesh. Yea, my\nbeing was rent and shattered like a cedar beneath the lightning\nstroke; I was smitten through and through. I, the priestess of Isis,\nproud and pure, was as lost as any village maid within her lover's\narms.\n\nThe man, too! He saw me and his aspect changed; the holy fervour went\nout of his eyes and into them entered something more human, something\nmore fateful. It was as though he, too, remembered--I know not what.\n\nWith a mighty effort of the will, aware that the eyes of the goddess\nand perchance of her priests also were upon me, I conquered myself and\nwith beating heart and heaving breast bent down to touch his brow with\nthe Kiss of ceremony. Yet, I know not how--I know not if the fault\nwere his or mine or perchance of both of us--it was his _lips_ I\ntouched, not his brow, just touched them and no more.\n\nIt was nothing, or at any rate but a little thing, in one instant come\nand gone, and yet to me it was all. For in that touch I broke my holy\nvows, and he, new-sworn to the worship of the goddess, broke his, yes,\nin the very act of sacrifice. What drove us to it? I do not know, but\nonce again I thought I heard that low, triumphant laughter, and it\ncame into my mind that we were the sport of an indomitable power\ngreater than ourselves and all the oaths that mortals swear to gods or\nmen.\n\nI waved my sceptre. The new-made priest arose, bowed and withdrew, I\nwondering of whom he was the priest--of Isis or of Aphrodite. The\nsinging of a distant choir broke out upon the silence, the hierophants\ncame and led him away to be of their company till his death: the\nceremony was ended. My attendants, arrayed as the goddesses Hathor and\nNut, conducted me from the shrine. I was unrobed of my sacred\npanoplies and once more from a goddess became a woman, and as a woman\nI sought my couch and wept and wept.\n\nFor had I not at the first temptation in my heart broken the law and\nbetrayed the trust of her who, as then I believed, is and was and\nshall be; her whose veil no mortal man had lifted, the Mother of the\nsun and all its stars?\n\n\n CHAPTER V\n The Summons\n\nNone knew my fault. Yet I knew, and what is known to one soul is\nknown to all souls, since one is all and all are one. Moreover, it was\nknown to That which begets souls, That from which they come and to\nwhich they return again, again to come, as Plato, the great\nphilosopher, who died before my day, has taught us in his writings.\nAlso it was known to that accursed priest who was the cause and\npartner of my crime. I was overcome; I was eaten up with shame, I who\nthought myself purer than the mountain snows, as indeed I was and, in\nthe flesh, to this hour have remained.\n\nSoon I could no longer bear my torment. To Noot I went, Noot the\nhigh-priest, my counsellor and master, and in a secret place kneeling\non my knees, there I told him all.\n\nHe hearkened with a little smile upon his withered face, then\nanswered,\n\n\"Daughter, in your honesty you do but reveal that which I knew--how I\nknew it matters not. And now take comfort, since the blame is not\naltogether yours, or even that of this new-made priest, whose foot was\ncaught in the same snare. You worship Isis, as I do, but what is Isis\nwhom we portray on earth as a woman glorious above all women? Is she\nnot Nature's self, the universal Mother, the Supreme in whom all gods\nand goddesses have a part? She wars on Aphrodite, it is true, yet does\nnot that mean that in verity she wars upon herself? And are we not as\nIsis is, not one but many poured into a single mould, for do we not\nall war upon ourselves? Believe me, Daughter, the human heart is a\ngreat battleground where the higher and the lower parts of us fight\nwith spiritual spears and arrows, till one side or the other wins\nvictory and hoists the banner of good or evil, of Isis or of Set. Only\nout of struggle comes perfectness; that which has never struggled is a\ndead creature from whom little may be hoped. The ore must be melted in\nthe fire and lo! the most of it is dross, refuse to be thrown away.\nHad it never known the fire, there could be no pure gold to adorn the\nbrows of Heaven, nor even copper and iron to shape the swords of men.\nRejoice, then, that you have felt the hurt of fire.\"\n\n\"Master,\" I answered, \"Lord of Wisdom to whom alone Ayesha bows the\nknee, your words are true and comfortable, yet bethink you, and if it\nis permitted, interpret me this riddle. I dreamed a dream of the time\nbefore my earthly days--you know it well for I have told it to you. I\ndreamed of a place in Heaven and of two goddesses matched against each\nother and of a command that was laid upon me to bring woe upon those\nwho had deserted the one and turned to the other. Now if they were\nparts of a single whole, why should this command be laid upon me?\"\n\n\"Daughter, in your dream you were ordained to be a Sword of Vengeance,\nnot because the Egyptians turned from one part of the holy Unity to\nanother part of that Unity, but because they have become corrupt and\nfaithless, worshipping no gods save themselves and following after\nthat which is low, not that which is high. Such is my answer, yet of\nthe truth or the falsehood of that dream I say nothing. Perchance it\nwas but a dream.\"\n\n\"Perchance, Master. Yet in that dream, true or false, I saw a face,\nand lo! a few nights gone I, draped as Isis in the shrine, I saw that\nface again and knew it; knew also that with it my fate is intertwined.\nWhat of this?\"\n\n\"Daughter, who are we that we should read the mysteries of Fate, we\nwho know not whence we come nor whither we go, nor what we have been,\nnor why we are? It may be that you have some mission toward the spirit\nthat is clothed in the flesh of yonder man. It may be that you are\ndestined to uplift that spirit, and in so doing yourself to be trodden\ndown. If so, I say that in the end you shall rise again and bear him\nupward with you.\"\n\nHe paused, and I knelt silent, pondering the prophecy, for such I knew\nit well to be. Then again he spoke,\n\n\"You heard a laughter in the shrine, yet there was no laughter save\nthat of the evil in your own heart, mocking and triumphant. Such\nlaughter mayhap you will often hear, but while you can hear it and\nrepent, be not dismayed. When the ears of the soul grow deaf then\nutter loss is near; while they are open, hope remains. Those who still\nstrive can never wholly fall. Fate rules us every one, yet within the\ncircle of that Fate power is given to us to work out our redemption. I\nhave finished. Ask me no more.\"\n\n\"What punishment, Master?\" I asked.\n\n\"Daughter, this. For a while look no more upon that man. I say for a\nwhile, since with you I hold that his destiny and yours are\nintertwined. I have a command for you: that presently you accompany me\nhence to lands beyond the seas. Now, go rest, and in rest find\nforgetfulness.\"\n\nSo I went, wondering yet comforted, though I knew well that Noot the\nHoly had not told me all, no, nor yet the half of what he knew. For\noften those to whom the gods give vision are forbid to speak it, lest,\nas in the old Hebrew parable, men should eat of the tree of knowledge\nand grow like to them. Or perchance they cannot speak it, since it\ncomes to them in a tongue which may not be rendered in the words that\nthe passer-by would understand. So indeed it is with me to-day.\n\n\nThus it came about that soon I and my master, Noot, left Phil\u00e6 and as\nbefore travelled the Nile disguised. Never since then have my eyes\nlooked upon that island and its holy fane which Holly, who has visited\nit, tells me is now a ruin with stark, Hathor-headed columns standing\nhere and there amongst the tumbled stones. He says, moreover, that his\npeople who rule the land to-day purpose to sink it beneath the Nile\nthat the lands below may be enriched and multiplied. Herein I see an\nallegory; the temples of Isis are drowned and the learning they held\nis lost in order that more food may grow to feed the common and the\nignorant. Yet to what end, seeing that if there is more food, more men\nwill come to eat it, all of them common and ignorant, while Isis and\nher wisdom are swallowed in the slime. Thus has it ever been in Egypt,\nand doubtless elsewhere, for such is Nature's law. Food breeds\nmultitudes and where carrion is, there are flies, while in the deserts\nboth are lacking. Yet I think that the deserts and the few that wander\non them beneath the sun and stars are nearer far to God.\n\nOnce more disguised as merchants, I and Noot, my master, took ship and\nvisited far lands to see their state and gather wisdom. We visited\nRome, then breaking her shackles and rising to her greatness. They\nwere a great people, those Romans that Noot out of his foresight told\nme would one day rule the world. Or perhaps it was I who told Noot,\njudging them by their qualities; I am not sure. At least I loved them\nnot, because of their rude natures, their lack of arts and their love\nof power and gain. Therefore when I had studied their language and\ntheir politics I passed on.\n\nWe came to Greece and tarried there awhile, studying philosophies and\nother things. The Greeks I did love, because they were beautiful and\ncalled forth beauty from all they touched. Also they were brave who\ndefied the Persian might and had they but stood together, might have\nqueened it on the earth. But they would not, for ever State tore out\nthe throat of State, so that in the end all were undone and\noverwhelmed by a multitude of commoner folk who held Greece before\nthem, for such was their destiny. Moreover, they worshipped gods made\nlike themselves, with all the faults of men grown greater and more\nvile, and told fables concerning them fit to please children, which I\nthought strange in a people that could produce such philosophers and\npoets. Yet those gods had come down to them from their fathers, and it\nis hard to shake off the yoke of gods until some greater god appears\nand breaks it with the hammer of war.\n\nHere in Greece it was that I posed to its most famous sculptor for a\nstatue of Aphrodite, or rather it was as a mould of perfect Womanhood\nthat I posed, desiring that this sculptor, who pleased me, should have\none flawless model to copy in his future work, for which he blessed\nme, naming that statue \"Beauty's Self.\" Yet when I visited him a while\nafterward I found that he had changed this name to Aphrodite.\n\nI was angered who did not desire that my loveliness should be\naccredited to mine enemy and that of Isis whom I served, and asked him\nwhy this had been done.\n\nHe answered, humbly enough, because of a dream in which the Paphian\nhad appeared to him and threatened him with blindness unless he gave\nher own name to so divine a face and form. Moreover, being in the\nthrall of superstition he prayed me, even with tears, that thus it\nmight remain, since otherwise he must break that statue and as he\nthought, be blinded as well. So out of pity I let him have his way and\neven gave him my hand to kiss in token of forgiveness.\n\nThus it comes about that Aphrodite unashamed throughout the ages has\ntaken the tribute of a million eyes, clothed in a borrowed loveliness.\nSo be it, since what she has stolen is but a fraction of the truth. No\nsculptor, however great, can mould the perfect out of frozen stone.\n\nFrom Greece, still disguised as a merchant and his daughter, we\nwandered to Jerusalem, feigning to trade in pearls and gems, since\nthere I would study the religion of the Jews whereof I had heard so\nmuch. The \"City of Peace\" it was called among the Egyptians of old\ntimes, or so they interpreted its name, but never found I one in which\nthere was less of peace. Fierce-faced were those Jews and quarrelsome;\nrevengeful too and ever waging war, public and private, upon one\nanother. A peculiar people, as they name themselves, full of hate,\nparticularly of the stranger within their gates. To trade with them\nwas scarcely possible, because he who sold them wares was always left\nthe loser, though for this I who sought their philosophy, not their\ngold, cared nothing.\n\nSo I turned myself to the study of their faith, and found that God, as\nthey interpreted Him, was well-nigh as fierce as were his worshippers.\nYet this I will say, that He was one God, not many, and a true God\nalso, since otherwise how could his prophets have written so\ngloriously concerning Him? Moreover, it was their belief that He would\ncome to earth and lead them to the conquest of the world. This, Holly\ntells me, has chanced though not in the shape they hoped, since the\nKing who came would have led them but to the conquest of the evil that\nis in the hearts of men and to the knowledge of a life to be, in which\nthey had small faith. Therefore they persecuted and slew Him as a\nmalefactor after their cruel fashion, and what is now accepted by\nmillions, so says Holly, they still reject.\n\nI preached to them, for my heart burned in me at the sight of their\nsacrifices. Yes, I preached to them against the shedding of blood,\ntelling them of a higher philosophy of gentleness and mercy. For a\nwhile they listened, then took up stones and stoned me, so that had I\nand Noot not been protected by Heaven, we should have been slain.\nAfter this affront I turned my back upon Jerusalem and its hook-nosed,\nfierce-eyed people, and went to Cyprus where I debated with the lewd\npriests of Aphrodite at Paphos. Thence I got me back to Egypt whence\nI had been absent many years.\n\nAt Naukratis priests of Isis who knew of our coming, how I cannot\ntell, perchance Noot had told them by messenger, or in a dream as he\ncould do, met us and conducted us up the Nile to the temple of Isis at\nMemphis. Here we were received in state in the great hall of the\ntemple and lo! at the head of those who welcomed us was the Greek\nKallikrates, now by his holiness and zeal risen high in the service of\nthe goddess.\n\nWhen I saw him, beauteous as of old, my heart stood still and the\nblood rushed to my brow.\n\nYet I gave no sign, treating him as a stranger on whom my eyes had\nnever fallen until that hour. He for his part stared at me with a\npuzzled air, then shook his head as one does who sees a face that he\nbelieves he has met in dream and yet is doubtful. For be it\nremembered, this man had looked on me but once, when robed as Isis I\nreceived him into the company of her priests at Phil\u00e6, and then but\nfor a moment in the light of the moon. Perchance he still thought that\nit was the goddess herself whom he saw thus and not a mortal. At the\nleast he did not know that I, the beauteous prophetess who came to\nMemphis after wandering through the world, was the same as she who had\nsat upon the throne of Isis at Phil\u00e6 and whom by chance he had kissed\nupon the lips. Mayhap even he did not remember the kiss, or if he\nremembered, set it down as part of the ceremonial. Thus, if I knew him\nbut too well, to him I was a stranger.\n\nI bethought me of flight, knowing in my heart that to me this man was\nas the fabled sword that hung above the head of Damocles, though what\nharm I had to fear from him, I did not know.\n\nAgain I sought the counsel of Noot who smiled and answered,\n\n\"Have I not told you, Daughter, that perils must be faced since those\nfrom which we flee will be swift to overtake us? If Destiny has\nbrought you and this man together, be certain that it is for its own\npurposes. Surely you have learned your lesson and steeled your soul\nagainst all fleshly vanities.\"\n\n\"Yes, my Father,\" I answered proudly, \"I have learned my lesson and\nsteeled my soul. Moreover, your thought is my thought, nor will I turn\nmy back on any man. Here I bide, defying woman's weakness and all the\nwiles of evil gods.\"\n\n\"Well spoken,\" answered Noot, and blessed me in the ancient words. Yet\nas he did so I noted that he sighed and shook his head.\n\n\nFor many a moon, I know not how many who, having all time at my\ncommand, seem to have lost its petty count, I remained there in the\ntemple at Memphis of which soon I became the prophetess and the head\nof the priestesses. Ere long the fame of my divinations spread far and\nwide, so that from all the land those who sought wisdom or knowledge\nof the future would come to consult me, bringing great gifts to the\ngoddess, though not one gem or piece of gold did Noot or I keep for\nourselves, who indeed had no need of such common dross.\n\nSo I sat in a carven chair in the sanctuary, my diviner's bowl at my\nside, and uttered dark sayings like to those of the famous oracles of\nthe Greeks at Delphi, many of which fulfilled themselves. For in\ntruth, I think that there was a spirit in me--whether it came from the\nHeavens or elsewhere I do not know--which enabled me to read much that\nwas passing upon the earth and even sometimes that which had not yet\nhappened upon the earth. So the renown of the Lady Isis spread till I\nbecame a power in the land. Moreover, thus I learned many things, for\nthose who consult an oracle, like those who seek the help of a\nphysician, lay bare their souls, keeping no secret back.\n\nNow at this time Egypt and all the countries round seethed with war\nlike a pot boiling on the flames. For years Egypt had beaten off the\nattacks of the Persians, but now the Pharaoh Nectanebes, the second of\nthat name who then sat upon the throne, the last native king who\nreigned upon the Nile, was threatened by Artaxerxes, that one of this\naccursed race who was named Ochus. This Persian Ochus had gathered a\nmighty force to subdue Egypt, hundreds of thousands of men, tens of\nthousands of horsemen, hundreds of triremes and of transport ships.\n\nThe last act of the tragedy had begun of which the end was to be the\ncrushing of Egypt who never more should know a Pharaoh of her own\nblood and choosing. Of all these things I learned through those who\ncame to consult the oracle of Isis, and much did I talk of them with\nNoot.\n\nNow of myself during these long years of quiet and preparation for\ngreat events, I will say that ever my spirit grew in purity and\nstrength. I put the things of earth behind me, I grew nearer to the\nDivine, and in the night time I communed with my soul which seemed to\nhave become a part of that which is above the world. The Greek,\nKallikrates, I saw continually, but no word passed between us save\nsuch as had to do with matters of our faith and of the worship of Isis\nin whose service he now stood high. Never did we interchange a touch\nor a look of love. He was apart from me and I from him. And yet always\nin my heart I feared this man, this beautiful man, the warrior who had\nbecome a priest, for some prescience told me that he would bring\ndisaster on my head, or I should bring it upon his, I knew not which.\n\nSo there we sat in the sanctuary, Noot the wise and aged, who yet\nnever seemed to change, Kallikrates the priest, and I, and alone or\ntogether gave counsel to kings and captains, or uttered oracles. Clear\nseemed our sky and free from trouble, yet on the far horizon in my\nspirit I discerned the tempest clouds arising, the terrible clouds in\nwhich the lightnings played like the swords of Destiny that in a day\nto come were doomed to overwhelm and pierce us through.\n\nNectanebes the second, the Pharaoh, came to his palace at Memphis to\ngather troops from Upper Egypt and made great offerings to the gods,\nseeking their favour in the coming war. Now I saw him for the first\ntime, a gray-haired, fat, heavy-jowled man, bald-headed, large-nosed,\nwith great eyes like to those of an ox. Such was Nectanebes, the\nmagician, the consorter with familiar spirits, named the Destroyer, a\ntitle which the gods who hated him must have given him in irony since\nhimself he was doomed to be destroyed. But one good thing can I say of\nthis Nectanebes, that he was a lover of the arts and raised glorious\nbuildings to the gods. Learning that I, the high-priestess, had dwelt\nat Phil\u00e6, he came to consult me as to the beautiful temple with the\nHathor-headed columns which he built there and through my counsel it\nwas made perfect, for I drew its plans, or at least those of its\nadornments. Holly tells me that even as a ruin, although so small,\nthere is no lovelier building in all Egypt.\n\nNow this Pharaoh thought me a Greek and did not know that I was Arab\nand the daughter of him of Ozal in Yaman, whom his father, the first\nNectanebes, had brought to his death because once long ago I had been\nrefused as a wife to himself or to this son of his who now had\nsucceeded him. Of these things doubtless he remembered little or\nnothing, since that was one of the smallest of Egypt's wars. But I, I\nremembered and swore that in payment for my father's blood I would\nbring his accursed House to ruin. Always also I received him veiled\nsince I did not desire that he should look upon my beauty and inquire\nconcerning my history; therefore, as a prophetess had a right to do, I\nreceived the Pharaoh veiled.\n\nOften he came to visit me because he had learned that I was a mistress\nof Magic and he who practised magic much hoped that I would teach him\nsecrets he did not know, and show him how to lay spells upon his\nenemies. This indeed I did, but the secrets that I taught him were\nevil and the spells were spears that when he threw them would fall\nback upon his head.\n\nSo the scene was set, and at length came the summons to begin the play\nwith the watching world for audience.\n\nA writing sealed with Pharaoh's seal was brought to the temple of\nIsis, commanding Noot the high-priest, and me, Ayesha, who now was\nnamed _Oracle-of-Isis_, and the Greek Kallikrates, Chief of the\nCeremonies, whose office it was to assist me in my divinations, to\nattend the court of Pharaoh and there declare to him the future of the\nwar as it should be revealed to us by the great goddess whom we\nserved. At first we refused to go, whereon there came another message\nwhich said that if we continued to refuse, we should be brought. The\nPharaoh wished to offer no affront to Isis, the messenger declared,\nbut the matter was urgent, as great things hung upon the revelations\nwhich we alone could make, and some of the kings and generals who were\ngathered in the temple as allies of Nectanebes, being the worshippers\nof other gods, could not set foot in the holy shrine of Isis.\n\nThen, there being no help for it, we answered that we would come that\nvery night at the rising of the moon.\n\nHastily consulting together we planned the words of an oracle,\ndouble-edged words that yet prophesied good to Nectanebes and\nencouraged him to war; for thus we believed we should most quickly\nbring about his downfall.\n\nYet as those words were never spoken I will not write them down.\n\n\n CHAPTER VI\n The Divination\n\nAccompanied by the priests and priestesses of Isis clad in their\nrobes and chanting the holy songs, I was borne veiled to the palace of\nthe Pharaoh in a litter, with its curtains drawn. On my right hand\nwalked Noot the high-priest, white-bearded, venerable; and on my left\nthe Greek Kallikrates, Master of the Rites.\n\nThus we came to the palace of which the outer courts were filled with\nGrecian soldiers of the guard, some of whom in past years Kallikrates\nhad once commanded, although as a shaven priest of Isis, disguised in\nhis white robes, they knew him no more. These men stared at us, ready\nto mock and yet afraid, as did Ph\u0153nicians, Sidonians, men of Cyprus,\nand others who were gathered in the courts as though awaiting some\ngreat event.\n\nIn an outer hall a captain of the guard bade our escort of priests and\npriestesses to await our return, but we three, that is I, Ayesha,\nNoot, and Kallikrates, were summoned to the small banqueting chamber\nwhere Nectanebes with a few of the most highly placed of his guests\nsat at their feast. Among these were the King of Sidon, two more kings\nfrom Cyprus, three Grecian generals, some great nobles of Egypt, and\nothers. Also certain royal ladies were present, and among them one who\ninstantly drew my eyes to her. She was younger than I--perchance there\nmay have been ten years between us, tall, slender, and lovely in her\ndark fashion, with a strong, quiet face and large brooding eyes, soft\nas a deer's and rather blue than black in colour.\n\nSuddenly as we entered I, who note all, saw these eyes grow frightened\nlike to those of one who sees some spirit returned from the halls of\nDeath; saw also the rich-hued face turn pale, then grow red again as\nthe blood flowed back; saw the breast heave beneath the jewelled\nrobes, so sharply that a flower fell from them, and the lips of coral\npart as though to utter some remembered name.\n\nWondering what had thus disturbed this beauteous royalty since I,\nbeing veiled, it could not have been the vision of myself, I glanced\nround and perceived that Kallikrates, who was on my left, but a little\nbehind me, had become pale as a dead man and stood like one frozen\ninto stone.\n\n\"Who is that royal woman?\" I whispered to Noot through my veil, for\nroyal I knew her to be by the Ur\u00e6us circlet she wore upon her raven\nhair.\n\n\"Pharaoh's daughter, Amenartas,\" he whispered back, \"whom the Greeks\ncall _The Maiden_ because she will take no man in marriage.\"\n\nThen I remembered a certain confession that once I had heard sitting\non the throne of the goddess Isis at Phil\u00e6, of how the penitent had\nloved a girl of the royal House of Egypt, and for her sake killed his\nown dear brother; remembered also that this penitent was none other\nthan the priest Kallikrates. Now I understood all, and though\nKallikrates was naught to me save a fellow servant of the goddess, I\nhated that Amenartas and became aware that between her and me there\nwas war unending, though how and why I knew not.\n\nNext I looked at a man clad in kingly robes who sat on Pharaoh's\nright. He was a large man of about five and forty years of age with\ndark, handsome face and shifting eyes; one with a jovial aspect which\nyet I felt to be but a mask covering a heart full of evil schemes.\nFrom his purple robe sewn with pearls and the style of his attire and\nheaddress I guessed that this must be Tenes the Ph\u0153nician, King of\nthe city of Sidon that was reported the wealthiest in the world, which\ncity, having revolted, had joined Egypt in its war against the\nPersians. Instantly I weighed that man in the balance of my mind and\nwrote him down as an ambitious rogue who was also a coward and, as I\njudged from the many charms he wore, full of superstition.\n\nThe others I had no time to study for at once the Pharaoh began to\nspeak.\n\n\"Greeting, Prophetess,\" he said, rising from his chair and bowing to\nus, or rather to me, \"Greeting, High-priest of Isis, Queen of Heaven,\nMistress of the World; greeting also, Priest, Master of the Rites of\nIsis. Pharaoh thanks you all for thus promptly answering to his\nsummons, since this night Egypt needs your wisdom more perchance than\never before in all the ages of its history.\"\n\n\"Be pleased, O Pharaoh, to set out what you desire of us, the servants\nof the eternal goddess,\" said Noot.\n\n\"This, High-priest: that you should declare the future to us. Hearken!\nAs you know, the great war has begun. The mighty Tenes here, King of\nSidon, my ally, by the help of the Greeks I sent him, has defeated the\nPersians and against these Cyprus also is in revolt. But now\nArtaxerxes Ochus has seized the throne of Persia, having murdered all\nwho stood between it and him, with the help of Bagoas the eunuch, his\ncounsellor and general. He has raised a countless host and is pouring\ndown upon Sidon and upon Egypt. Therefore we would learn how the war\nshall go and to what gods we must sacrifice to secure the victory.\"\n\n\"O Pharaoh,\" answered Noot, \"in bygone years when your father sat upon\nthe throne and I was the _Kherheb_, yes, the first magician of Egypt,\nhe asked me such questions as these, and having prayed to my goddess,\nI answered him in the words that she commanded. None heard those words\nsave your father himself, for he and I were alone together. Yet there\nwas that in them which made him wroth so that he sought to kill me,\nand to save my life I fled out of Egypt, going whither the goddess led\nme. Afterward I was called back to Egypt where once more I am\nhigh-priest of Isis though the office of _Kherheb_ is filled by\nanother. How know I, Pharaoh, if I obey you as I obeyed your father,\nand again the goddess should utter prophecies which are not pleasing\nto the ears of kings, that once more my life may not be sought in\npayment?\"\n\n\"I swear, High-priest,\" answered Nectanebes eagerly, \"that whatever\nmay be revealed by the goddess, you shall take no harm. I swear it by\nthe name and throne of the holy Isis, to whom I will make great gifts,\nand all this company are witnesses of the oath. If it be broken, may\nthe curse of Isis and of all the gods of Egypt fall upon the head of\nme and mine. Draw nigh now that I may touch you with my sceptre,\nthereby forgiving all that you have said or shall say against me or my\nHouse, and restoring to you your office of _Kherheb_ of Egypt, whereof\nmy father, who to-day is gathered in Osiris, robbed you.\"\n\nSo Noot drew near and Pharaoh touched him with his sceptre, a cedar\nwand surmounted with a little golden image of Horus, which he always\ncarried because of his throne-name which signified \"_Horus-of-Gold_.\"\nMoreover, he re-created him _Kherheb_ and in token of it set upon his\nshoulders the gold chain from his own neck, and swore to him his place\nand power for life and the gift of an alabaster coffin wherein to lie\nafter life was done. This sarcophagus, however, Noot refused, saying\ndarkly that it was fated that he should sleep his last sleep far away\nfrom Egypt. Then he, Noot, drew back and as he went I saw Pharaoh's\ndaughter rise and whisper awhile in her father's ear. He listened and\nnodded. Then he said,\n\n\"Come hither, priest who is named 'Lover-of-Isis' and Master of her\nrites, the royal Lady of Egypt says to me that in bygone days when she\nwas scarce a woman, she thinks that before you were a priest, you held\nsome command amongst the Greeks of my guard, as from your stature and\nbearing I can well believe. She says also that if her memory serves\nher, you slew some man in a quarrel and for this reason fled away and\nsought refuge with Isis. If such things happened I have forgotten\nthem, nor do I ask concerning them. Let them lie. Yet, lest you should\nbe afraid that old tales may be told against you or vengeance wrought\nupon you, come hither also and receive pardon for the past, and\nprotection and advancement for the future and with these a gift from\nPharaoh.\"\n\nNow I marvelled at this lady's foresight and cunning which showed her\nhow to take advantage of Pharaoh's mood and safeguard one who once had\nloved her, all of which told me that she must be a wise woman as well\nas beauteous. Also it told me that the worship of this man had been\npleasing to her. Then Kallikrates drew near and was touched with the\nsceptre. Moreover, Pharaoh spoke to him in like words that he had\nspoken to Noot, pardoning him all and promising him much. Moreover, in\ntoken of his favour he gave him a gold cup of Grecian workmanship\nhaving two handles, that was chased about with the story of the loves\nof Aphrodite and Adonis, and bordered with a wreath of those anemones\nwhich were fabled to have sprung from his blood. This glorious,\nflower-like cup from which the guests, when we entered, were pledging\nthemselves in wine of Cyprus, Pharaoh lifted from the board and sent\nto Kallikrates, a great gift which made it clear to me how deeply he\ndesired to propitiate the goddess in the persons of her servants.\n\nLastly the private scribe was commanded to write down these decrees\nthat he had spoken, which he did forthwith, sealing them with\nPharaoh's seal and giving one copy to Noot whilst keeping the other to\nbe filed among the records.\n\nThus Noot and Kallikrates were protected from all things, but to me,\nthe Prophetess, nothing was said, as I thought for two reasons, first\nbecause I was known to Pharaoh, who as I have told, had often\nconsulted me upon matters of magic, and secondly because as the \"voice\nof the goddess\" I was holy and above reward or punishment at the hands\nof man. Thus I thought, with how much truth shall be seen.\n\nThe gifts were received, the papyrus had been hidden away in the robe\nof Noot, and there was silence in the chamber. To me, Ayesha, this\nheavy silence was full of omen. My soul, made keen and fine with\nceaseless contemplation of things that are above the earth, in that\nsilence seemed to hear the breath of the watching gods of Egypt. To me\nit was as though they had gathered there to listen to the fate of this\ntheir ancient home on earth. Yes, I felt them about me; or at the\nleast I felt a spirit stirring.\n\nThe company at the table drank no more wine and ceased from speech.\nThey sat still staring in front of them and notwithstanding the\nglitter of the ornaments that proclaimed their royalty or rule, to me\nthey were as dead men in a tomb. Only the Princess of Egypt,\nAmenartas, seemed to be alive and outside the circle of this doom, for\nI noted that her splendid eyes sought the face, the perfect, carven\nface of the priest Kallikrates and that though he stood with folded\narms and gaze fixed upon the ground, he knew it, for now and again\ncovertly he glanced back at her.\n\nAt length one of those guests could bear no more, and spoke. He was a\nclose-lipped, war-worn Grecian general who afterward I learned was\nnamed Kleinios of Cos, the commander of Pharaoh's mercenary forces.\n\n\"By Zeus!\" he cried, \"are we men or are we stones, or are we shades in\nHades? Let these diviners divine and have done, for I would get me to\nmy wine again.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" broke in Tenes, King of Sidon. \"Bid them divine, Pharaoh, since\nwe have much to agree upon ere I sail at dawn.\"\n\nThen all the company cried, \"_Divine! Divine!_\" save Amenartas only,\nwho searched the face of Kallikrates with her eyes, as though she\nwould learn what lay behind its cold and priestly mask.\n\n\"So be it,\" said Noot, \"but first I pray Pharaoh to bid all mean men\ndepart.\"\n\nPharaoh waved his sceptre and the butlers and attendants bowed and\nwent. Then Noot motioned to Kallikrates, who thereon shook the\n_sistrum_ that he bore and, in his rich, low voice, uttered a chant to\nthe goddess, that which was used to summon her presence.\n\nHe ended his chant and Noot began to pray.\n\n\"Hear me, thy prophet, O thou who wast and art and shalt be, thou in\nwhose bosom is locked all the wisdom of heaven and earth,\" he prayed.\n\"These kings and great ones desire knowledge, declare it unto them\naccording to thy will. They desire truth--let them learn the truth in\nsuch fashion as thou shalt decree.\"\n\nThen he was silent. None spoke, yet it seemed that a command came to\nthe three of us, for suddenly Noot looked at the priest Kallikrates, a\nvery strange look. Next the priest Kallikrates, rising from his knees,\nlaid down the _sistrum_ and taking the beautiful cup that Pharaoh had\ngiven him, went to the table and washed it with pure water from a\nsilver ewer, then filled it to the brim from the ewer and brought it\nto me, Ayesha. Now I knew that I was commanded to gaze into that cup\nand to say what things I saw.\n\nSo I set it on the ground in front of me and kneeling, threw my veil\nover it and gazed into the water in the shallow golden cup.\n\nFor a little while I saw nothing, till presently a face formed in the\nwater, the face of the royal lady, Amenartas, which stared up at me\nout of the cup. Yes, it stared hard and seemed to threaten me, for in\nits eyes were hate and vengeance. Then another face came and covered\nit, the face of Kallikrates the priest, and in its eyes were trouble\nand desire.\n\nNow I knew that the goddess Isis, or perchance another, she of the\nGreeks, spoke to me of matters that had to do with myself and not with\nthe fate of Egypt. In my heart I prayed to the Queen of Heaven to rid\nme of these visions, though to give me others I did not pray her,\nsince it was my design to speak certain politic words which we had\nprepared.\n\nYet other visions came unsought, for some spirit possessed me, a\nspirit of truth and destiny. They were many and all of them terrible.\nI saw battlefields; I saw men fall in thousands, I saw cities in\nflames. I saw that false-eyed king, Tenes, dead. I saw the General,\nKleinios of Cos, also dead, lying on a heap of Grecian slain. I saw\nthe Pharaoh Nectanebes flying up Nile upon a boat--I knew it was up\nNile because the current rippled against the prow of his ship, I saw\nhim seized by black savages and throttled with a rope till his tongue\nhung out and the great round eyes started from his head. I saw the\ntemples of Egypt burning and a fierce-faced, drunken king hacking at\nthe statues of the gods with a Persian sword and butchering the\npriests upon the altar. Then I saw no more but a voice called in my\nears,\n\n\"Death to Egypt! Death and desolation! Death to her king, death to her\npriests, death to her gods! Finished, finished, all is finished!\"\n\nI cast the bowl from me. It overset but lo! there flowed from it not\nwater but blood, or dark-hued wine, staining the white marble of the\npavement. I stared at it! All stared at this god-sent horror!\n\n\"A trick!\" cried the Princess Amenartas. \"She has coloured the water\nbehind the shelter of her veil.\"\n\nThe others too, especially the Greeks, took up the cry, echoing,\n\n\"A trick, a brazen trick!\"\n\nOnly I noted that Pharaoh was silent, Pharaoh who knew that Ayesha,\nnamed _Isis-come-to-Earth_, did not deal in tricks; Pharaoh who\nhimself practised magic and had seen such omens sent by Set. Lo!\nPharaoh looked afraid and spoke no word, only glared with his great\neyes at the stain upon the marble.\n\n\"What answer did the goddess give to your prayer, Prophetess,\" asked\nAmenartas, sneering at me.\n\n\"This answer, royal Lady of Egypt,\" and I pointed to the marble, \"the\nanswer of blood.\"\n\n\"Blood! Whose blood? That of the Persians?\"\n\n\"Nay, Lady, that of many who sit at this feast and who ere long shall\nsit at the table of Osiris, and of thousands who cling to them. Yet be\ncomforted, Lady, not your blood. I think that you have much mischief\nto work ere you sit also at the table of Osiris, or mayhap at that of\nSet,\" I added, giving thrust for thrust.\n\n\"Declare then their names, Seeress.\"\n\n\"Nay, I declare them not. Go, seek them for yourself, Lady, or let\nPharaoh your father seek, for is he not a magician? though what god\ngives him vision I do not know. You name me cheat, or rather you name\nthe goddess cheat. Therefore the goddess is dumb and her prophetess is\ndumb.\"\n\n\"Aye, I name you cheat,\" she cried, who in her heart was mad with\nfear, \"and cheat you are. Now let this temple hag who hides her\nhideousness behind a silken screen unveil that we may see her as she\nis, and let her be searched and the vase of dye be taken from her\nbosom or her robes.\"\n\n\"Aye, let her be searched,\" shouted the guests who were also afraid.\n\n\"No need to search, high lords,\" I said in a quavering voice, as\nthough I too were overcome with fear. \"I will obey the Princess. I\nwill unveil, yet I beseech you all, make not a mock of me when you see\nme as I am. Once I was perchance as fair as that royal Lady who\ncommands, but years of abstinence and the sleepless search for wisdom\nmar the features and wither the frame. Moreover, time touches the\nlocks, such of them as remain to me, since these too grow thin with\nage. Yet I will unveil and the vase of precious dye shall be the prize\nof him who first can snatch it from my bosom or my robe.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said one of them, it was the king Tenes, \"and in payment for\nher trick we will make her drink what remains of it to give colour to\nher poor old carcase.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" I answered, \"and I will drink what remains of it for I think\nthe stuff is harmless. Oh! be not angry because a poor conjurer plays\nher tricks.\"\n\nNow Noot stared at me as though he were about to speak. Then his face\nchanged like to that of a man who of a sudden receives a command that\nothers cannot hear. He let fall his eyes, remaining silent, and I,\nwatching, knew that it was the will of the goddess, or at least Noot's\nwill, that I should unveil.\n\nI glanced at the priest Kallikrates but he stood still, looking like\nApollo's self frozen into stone.\n\nDuring this play I had loosened the fastenings of my veil and hood and\nnow of a sudden I cast them from me, revealing myself clad as Isis,\nthat is in little save a transparent, clinging robe fastened about my\nmiddle. On my breast, hanging from a chain of pearls, were her holy\nsymbols carved in gems and gold, and on my head her vulture cap\nbeneath which my tresses hung almost to my feet, having the golden\nfeathers of the cap adorned with sapphires and with rubies and the\nur\u00e6us rising from it fashioned of glittering diamonds.\n\nAye, I unveiled and stood before them, my arms folded upon the\njewelled girdle beneath my breast.\n\n\"Behold! Kings and Lords,\" I said, \"the temple hag stands before you\nin such poor shape as it has pleased the gods to fashion her. Now let\nhim who can see it, come, take the vase that hides this unveiled\ntrickster's dye.\"\n\nFor a moment there was silence while those brutal men devoured my\nwhite loveliness with their eyes, taking count of every beauty of my\nperfect face and form. Amenartas stared at me and her ruddy cheeks\nwent pale; yes, even the coral faded from her rich lips. Then from\nbetween those lips there burst these words:\n\n\"This is not a woman! This is the very goddess. Beware of her, ye men,\nfor she is terrible.\"\n\n\"Nay, nay,\" I answered humbly, \"I am but a poor mortal, not even royal\nlike to yourself, Lady--but a poor mortal with some wits and wisdom,\nthough perchance Isis for a while to your sight has touched me with\nher splendour. Come, take the vase ere I veil myself again.\"\n\nThen those men went mad, all save Pharaoh, who sat brooding.\n\n\"Goddess or woman,\" they cried, \"give her to us who henceforward can\nnever look upon the beauty of another.\"\n\nKing Tenes rose, his coarse face afire and his shifting eyes fixed\nupon me greedily.\n\n\"By Baal and by Ashtoreth!\" he cried, \"goddess or woman, never have I\nseen such an one as this prophetess of Isis. Hearken, Pharaoh, before\nthe feast we disputed together concerning a great sum of gold and in\nthe end it was confessed by you that it was due to me in aid of my\ncosts of war although, so you said, it could not be found in Egypt\nsave by raiding the rich treasury of Isis. Perchance the goddess\nlearned of this design of yours and by way of answer sent us an evil\noracle. I know not, but this I do know, that she sent you also a means\nto pay the debt without cost to yourself or the robbing of her sacred\ntreasury. Give me this fair priestess to comfort me with her wisdom\nand otherwise\"--here the company laughed coarsely--\"and I will talk no\nmore of the matter of that gold.\"\n\nPharaoh listened without raising his head, then looked on me with\nrolling eyes and answered:\n\n\"Which would anger the goddess most, King Tenes--to lose her gold or\nher prophetess?\"\n\n\"The former as I think, Pharaoh, seeing that gold is scarce, and\nprophetesses--true or false--are many. Give her to me, I say.\"\n\n\"I cannot for my oath's sake, King Tenes.\"\n\n\"You swore an oath to yonder high-priest and to yonder man, who looks\nlike a Grecian god clad in a priest's robe and is called\nMaster-of-the-Rites, but to this lady you swore none.\"\n\n\"I swore the oath to Isis, King Tenes, and if I break it doubtless she\nwill be avenged upon me. Go your way; the gold shall follow you to the\nlast ounce, but the prophetess is not mine to give.\"\n\nNow Tenes stared at me again and I, who hated him with all my soul,\ngave him back his stare with interest, though this did but seem to\ninflame him the more. Then he turned on Pharaoh furiously and answered\nin a cold voice,\n\n\"Hear me, Pharaoh. It is but a small matter, yet my mind is set upon\nthis woman who knows the heart of the gods and can pour their wisdom\ninto my ears. Therefore make your choice:\n\n\"In Sidon there are two factions of almost equal strength. One of them\nsays 'Make an alliance with Egypt and fight the Persian Ochus whom\nalready you have defeated once.' The other says 'Make an alliance with\nOchus and as reward in a day to come sit on Pharaoh's throne!' I have\ntaken the first counsel as you know. Yet it is not too late to change\nthat counsel for a second which perchance would prove the wiser, if\nthere be aught in yonder divination,\" and he pointed to the\nblood-stain upon the marble floor. Then he went on:\n\n\"Moreover, I have my captains about me at this board and those that\nserve me wait without with all my fleet, and therefore should it be\nchanged I need not fear to tell you so and to your face. So I say to\nyou that if you will not please me in this small matter, presently my\nambassadors go forth to Susa with a message for the ear of Ochus to\nwhich it would rejoice you to listen, seeing that without the strong\naid of Sidon and her fleets Egypt cannot conquer in this war.\"\n\nThus Tenes spoke and laid his hand upon the pommel of his short\nPh\u0153nician sword.\n\nNow the face of Pharaoh, bearded thus in his own city and at his own\nboard, grew red with rage and I saw that he was about to answer this\noutland king, defying him as many of the great monarchs who filled his\nthrone before him would have done. But ere he could speak his royal\ndaughter Amenartas whispered in his ear and although I could not hear\nher words, I read their purport in her face. They were--\"Tenes speaks\ntruth. Without Sidon you cannot stand against the Persians and Egypt\nis lost. Let the woman go. Isis, understanding, will forgive, who\notherwise must see the Persian Holy Fire burning on her altars.\"\n\nPharaoh heard and the anger written in his eyes was changed to\ntrouble. Rolling them in his fashion he looked on Noot and said to him\nas one who asks a question,\n\n\"I swore an oath to you, _Kherheb_, and to yonder priest, but to the\nprophetess I swore no oath and perchance Egypt's fate hangs upon this\nbusiness.\"\n\nThe old high-priest paused awhile like a man who awaits a message. If\nso, it seemed to come, for presently he answered in a quiet voice,\n\n\"Pharaoh is right; Egypt's fate hangs upon this business; also\nPharaoh's fate; also that of King Tenes and many others. The only fate\nwhich is not touched, whether it be finished in this way or in that,\nis the fate of yonder seeress who is named _Isis-come-to-Earth_, since\nthe goddess will protect her own. Settle the matter as you will,\nPharaoh. Only settle it swiftly, because under our rule it is time\nthat I and my company who wait without should return to the temple to\nmake our nightly prayer and offerings to the goddess, the Queen of all\nthe earth, the Queen of Pharaoh and of Egypt; the Queen of the King of\nSidon, and in the end the Queen also of Artaxerxes Ochus, the Persian,\nas one day surely he shall learn.\"\n\nThus spoke Noot unconcernedly and hearing him, I laughed, for now I\nwas sure that I had nothing to fear from Tenes or from any other man\nupon the earth. Therefore I laughed, which that company thought\nstrange in one who was about to be borne away a slave, and bade\nKallikrates give me my veil and hood, also the cloak that I had thrown\noff when I entered the banqueting hall.\n\nHe obeyed, and while he was assisting me to cover up my beauty in the\nfolds of that veil, I noted that alone among all the men here present,\nthis beauty did not seem to stir him at all. Had he been clothing a\nmarble or an ivory image of the goddess, as every day it was his duty\nto do at sunrise, anointing it with perfumes and garlanding it with\nflowers, he could not have been less moved. Or perhaps so truly had\nthe priest in him overcome the man that he had learned to cloak all\nthe feelings of a man. Or perhaps it was because that royal Amenartas\nwatched his every movement with her eyes. I know not, but this I do\nknow, that his calm angered me and it came into my mind that were I\nnot the head-priestess of Isis and sworn to her, there should be a\ndifferent tale to tell. Yes, even in that moment of destiny this came\ninto my mind, which shows that in my soul I had not forgotten the\nmeeting of our lips in yonder shrine at Phil\u00e6. At least I have often\nthought so since, I, who have had much time for thought.\n\n\"Priestess, you are mine,\" cried King Tenes in triumph. \"Make ready to\nsail with me for Sidon within an hour.\"\n\n\"Do you think that I am yours, King Tenes?\" I asked in a musing voice\nas I fastened the folds of my veil and arranged the hood. \"If so, I\nhold otherwise. I hold that I, Ayesha, a free-born lady of the ancient\nArab blood, am not the slave of any Ph\u0153nician who for a little while\nchances to be a king, but of her who is the Queen of kings, Isis the\nMother. Nay, Tenes, I am more, I am Isis herself,\n_Isis-come-to-Earth_. It seems that go with you I must, since such is\nthe will of the goddess, but, Ph\u0153nician, take heed. Should you dare\nto befoul me even with a touch, I tell you that I have strength at my\ncommand and that ere long Sidon shall lack a king and Set shall gain a\nsubject. For your own sake therefore and for that of Sidon, think\nagain and let me be!\"\n\nNow the great jaws of Tenes fell and he stared at me open-mouthed.\n\n\"Yet you shall go with me,\" he muttered thickly, \"and for the rest\nAshtoreth rules in Sidon, not Isis, for know that there are two Queens\nof Heaven.\"\n\n\"Aye, Tenes, a false queen and a true, and let the false beware of the\ntrue.\"\n\nThen I turned to Nectanebes and said,\n\n\"Is it still your command, O Pharaoh, that I accompany this ally of\nyours to Sidon? Bethink you ere you answer, since much hangs upon your\nwords.\"\n\n\"Yea, Priestess, it must be so. I have spoken and my decree is\nrecorded. The fate of Egypt is more than that of any priestess and\ndoubtless King Tenes will treat you well. If not, you say that you\nhave strength to defend yourself against him.\"\n\nNow as I answered, I laughed lightly and the sound of my laughter was\nlike the tinkle of falling silver.\n\n\"So be it, Pharaoh. To me it is nothing; indeed I would see Sidon, the\nglorious city, while she still is Sidon, home of merchants, mistress\nof the seas. Still ere I go, shall I tell you something, Pharaoh, of\nwhat was shewn to me in yonder bowl before its water was turned to\nblood--by dye from that vase which none of you has found? If I\nremember right, for as you who practise magic, know, Pharaoh, such\nvisions fade quickly like dreams at dawn--I say that if I remember\nright, it had to do with the fate of a great king. Have you ever seen\na king, O Pharaoh, when in place of the chain of royalty a collar of\nrope is set about his throat and drawn hard till the tongue is thrust\nfrom the royal mouth and the royal eyes start from their sockets? Nay?\nThen shall I draw his picture? Perchance in days to come you would\nknow it again?\"\n\n\"Witch, accursed witch!\" shouted Pharaoh. \"Take her, Tenes, and\nbegone, though sooner would I nurture a viper in my bosom,\" and rising\nfrom the board, he turned and fled away.\n\nAgain I laughed as I answered,\n\n\"I must go, but it seems that Pharaoh has gone first. Royal Amenartas,\nwatch the good god, your father, for I think that he is too\nsuperstitious and that which men believe fulfils itself upon them.\"\n\nThen I went to Noot and spoke with him--few words for already the\nguards were advancing upon me.\n\n\"Fear nothing, Daughter,\" he said, \"you are safe.\"\n\n\"I know that I am safe, Master, yet be ready to come to my aid when I\ncall, as my spirit tells me that call I shall.\"\n\nHe bent his head and the guards came up. As I went I glanced at the\npriest Kallikrates, who taking no note of me or of my fate, still\nstood staring at the royal Amenartas like a statue cut in stone, while\nshe stared back at him.\n\n\n CHAPTER VII\n The Quelling of the Storm\n\nThey set me on board a great ship, on the prow of which were images\nof certain gods of the Ph\u0153nicians, called by the Greeks _Pataeci_,\nnot unlike to that which the Egyptians worshipped by the name of Bes,\nbefore which images burned fire. There was a royal cabin in that ship\nwhich was given to me, and with it splendid robes and furnishings of\ngold for my table.\n\nAt dawn we cast off from the quay of the white-walled city while\nthousands of the worshippers of Isis who learned that I was being\ntaken from them, stood upon the quay and wailed, crying that the\n_Mouth-of-Isis_ was sent away to slavery and that where her \"Mouth\"\nwent, there the goddess would follow, leaving vengeance to fall upon\ntheir heads. For that the head-priestess of Isis should be given into\nthe hands of barbarians and their foreign gods was such a crime as had\nnot been known in Egypt.\n\nTherefore they wailed, prophesying evil, and I stood upon the stern\nalone in my white robes, veiled, and hearkened to them, for none dared\nto come near to me. Yes, I hearkened and blessed them with my hands,\nwhereat they knelt and wailed the more.\n\nWhen at last we had passed down the Nile and were out upon the great\nsea, sailing swiftly for Sidon over quiet waters, I, Ayesha, having\ntaken counsel of the goddess and of my woman's craft, sent for King\nTenes, who was also on board the ship, and received him in his own\ncabin that had been given up to me.\n\nFor my heart was black with rage against him, and against Nectanebes,\nPharaoh of Egypt, who had betrayed me, and in my heart I swore that I\nwould destroy them both. Yes, there I, the captive, sat and received\nthe captor king in his own cabin, purposing his doom, though how this\nwas to be accomplished as yet I did not know.\n\n\"O King,\" I said, \"I, your slave who, when not a slave, was\nhigh-priestess of Isis in Egypt and her seeress, into whose breast the\ngoddess poured her wisdom and her secrets, as indeed still she does,\nwould speak with you, and since I could not come to you among so many\nmen, have prayed your Majesty to come to me. What would you do with\nme, King Tenes, since it has pleased you to force Pharaoh to give me\ninto your keeping? Is it an oracle that you desire concerning your\nfate or that of your country in the war? If so, I will----\"\n\n\"Nay, Priestess,\" he broke in hurriedly, \"of your oracles I and others\nhave had enough. They are bitter bread for daily food. Keep them, I\npray you, to nurture your own soul.\"\n\n\"What would you of me then, King Tenes, that you have been at such\npains to steal me away from Egypt, even threatening Pharaoh to break\nyour solemn pact with him if he did not give me into your hands, me,\nthe snared bird, who by chance was left out of his oath to the\nhigh-priest and Isis's officer, the Greek.\"\n\n\"Lady Ayesha,\" blurted out Tenes, \"that I have learned to be by birth,\ndaughter of Yarab, once ruler of Ozal, upon whom, with the Egyptians,\nI made war in the past and brought to his death, because of _you_,\nLady, tell me, you who are wise, what would any man of you who had\nbeheld your beauty as I saw it some nights gone?\"\n\n\"Man, being man, that is, a ravening beast fashioned like a god in\nshape but not in soul, would make me his prey, Tenes. Such at least\nwas the desire of the first Nectanebes whom you aided with the ships\nof Sidon to destroy my father, and of many since his time.\"\n\n\"Good. Well, I who am a man and something more, being not a god\nindeed, but a great king, would make you my prey, as you say, for to\ntell truth, having once looked on you I seek no other woman in the\nwhole world.\"\n\nNow I threw back my veil and studied him with my eyes.\n\n\"So you would take me for your queen, Tenes? Indeed I guessed as much.\nBut what would your other queen, for doubtless you have one, say to\nthis, O King?\"\n\n\"My queen!\" he said in an astonished voice, \"my queen?\"\n\n\"Surely, Tenes, you would scarcely dare to proffer less than queenship\nto such a one as I?\"\n\n\"May be not. Well, let us say that I would make you my queen, since in\nSidon it is not difficult to be rid of others of whom one may be\nweary; that is, it is not difficult to a king who also is high-priest\nof Baal and of Ashtoreth. Yes, yes, I am sure that I would make you my\nqueen. I will offer it to you in writing if you desire.\"\n\n\"Aye, I do desire it, King, and that there may be no faults or traps\nin it, I myself will draw up the writing for you to sign. Only I doubt\nmuch whether I shall accept the offer if it is made.\"\n\n\"Why not, Lady? Is it a small thing to be Queen of Sidon?\"\n\n\"For Ayesha, daughter of Yarab, high-priestess and prophetess of Isis,\nthe wisest and most beauteous woman in the world, one who has never\nturned to look on man, it is a very small thing indeed, King Tenes. It\nis so small a thing that I will not deign to accept that proffered\ncrown of yours, unless----\"\n\n\"Unless what, Lady?\"\n\n\"Unless it is made larger, King, so large and wide that she who wears\nit holds rule over all the earth.\"\n\n\"By Baal, Ashtoreth, and Moloch, all three of them, what mean you,\nWoman?\"\n\n\"What I say, Man. I mean that when you are monarch, not of Sidon only,\nbut of Egypt, Cyprus, Persia, and all the East, then perchance I will\nmarry you, unless my fancy changes, as it may do, but certainly not\nbefore.\"\n\n\"Surely you are mad,\" he gasped. \"How can I gather all these diadems\nupon a single brow? It is impossible.\"\n\n\"Aye, for you it is impossible, King Tenes, but for me it is possible.\nI can gather them and set them on your brow and on my own, I who have\nwithin me all the wisdom of the earth and much of the strength of\nHeaven. Understand that if I desire it and you follow my counsel, I\ncan crown you emperor of the world, no less, but the question is, do I\ndesire it and will you follow my counsel?\"\n\n\"Lady, I swear that you are mad, unless in truth you are a goddess as\nthey say in Egypt.\"\n\n\"Perchance I am somewhat of a goddess, and being so, marvel whether\nfor any reward that can be given I shall debase myself by taking such\na one as you to husband, King Tenes. Now, first, look on me well and\nanswer whether you do indeed desire me and are ready to win me through\ntoil and danger, or whether you will let me be. For know, Tenes, that\nthough I seem to be your captive, you cannot snare me or do me\nviolence. Lay but a finger on me against my will, and it shall be your\ndeath, since I have those to aid me whom you cannot see. Now look--and\nanswer.\"\n\nHe looked, devouring me with his greedy eyes, then said,\n\n\"Of a truth I desire you more than anything on the earth, and since I\nmay not do so otherwise, for I perceive that you are too strong for\nme, will take you at your own price. Yea, even if I must wait for\nyears, still I will take you. Now tell me, most beauteous and most\nwise, what I must do, and swear to me that when I am king of all\nthings you will wed me.\"\n\n\"Aye, Tenes, I swear that when you are king of all things I will wed\nyou,\" I answered gently, laughing in my heart as I remembered that the\nfirst and last of all things, the greatest of all things, is--Death.\n\"Hearken. You shall bring me to Sidon, not as a captive but as a\nstrange goddess who has come to aid you and your people, and with\nhonour shall you receive me in Sidon, causing your priests and\npriestesses to offer me worship and incense.\"\n\n\"And if so, what then?\"\n\n\"Then, when I have studied your people and your preparations for war,\nwe will take counsel together and I will show you how you may prevail.\nTell me, Tenes, do you love Pharaoh Nectanebes?\"\n\n\"Nay, Lady, I hate him who asks too much and gives too little, as I\nhated his father before him. Still we sleep in the same bed and prop\nup the same wall, and if one of us ceases to support the wall, the\nPersians will push it down on both.\"\n\n\"I understand. Yet even so it comes into my mind that perchance you\nwould have been safer had you been pushing at the wall with the\nPersian Ochus and not holding it up with the Egyptian Nectanebes.\"\n\nHe glanced at me with his shifting eyes and answered,\n\n\"I have had that thought, as you know well, but having rebelled\nagainst Ochus, defeated his satraps, and slain thousands of his\nsoldiers, or rather those of his father, if I climb the wall I might\nfind spears waiting for me on the farther side. Lady, it is too late.\"\n\n\"Yes, King Tenes, perhaps it is too late; I will consider of the\nmatter in your interest and my own. But first send me papyrus and\nwriting tools that I may set down our pact. When you have approved and\nsigned it, then I will consider of this and other matters and not\nbefore. For the while, farewell.\"\n\nHe rose and went unwillingly enough and when I was alone in the cabin\nI laughed in my heart. This fish had been easy to hook, but he was a\nlarge fish and strong, and I must beware lest he pull me into the deep\nsea where both might drown together. Moreover, the man was hateful to\nme, more so even than that ox-eyed, heavy-jowled Pharaoh, and his\npresence seemed to poison the air I breathed. Yet if I entered into\nthis pact with him doubtless I must breathe it often, which vexed me\nwho shrank from men and their desires, and above all from this man.\nYet he had done me wrong and insult; he had helped the Egyptians to\nmake war upon my people and he had taken me as a slave, me, Ayesha,\nthinking to make of me his woman, and cost what it might, I would pay\nhim back as I would pay back Nectanebes who sold me.\n\nThe papyrus was brought to me by a slave and on it I wrote such a\ncontract as I think was never signed by a king before. It was brief\nand ran thus:--\n\n\"Ayesha, daughter of Yarab, high-priestess of Isis, prophetess of\nIsis, known in Heaven and among her servants as _Isis-come-to-Earth_,\nand _Child of Wisdom_, to Tenes, King of Sidon.\n\n\"When you, Tenes, are king not only of Sidon but of Egypt, Cyprus,\nPersia, and the East, as I can make you, if you obey me in all things,\nthen I, Ayesha, vow myself to you as your sole wife and queen. But if,\nere this dignity is mine and yours, you dare even to touch my robe,\nthen in the name of Isis and speaking with the voice of Isis, I,\nAyesha, vow to you shame and death in the world and after it all the\ntorments of hell and the jaws of the Devourer that await the judgment\nof Thoth on perjured souls beyond the Sun.\n\n\"Accepted and sealed by Ayesha, daughter of Yarab and by Tenes, King\nof Sidon.\"\n\nHaving copied this writing, I sent it to Tenes by the slave that he\nmight study it. Awhile later he asked audience of me, and entering,\nsaid in a thick voice that only a madman would set his seal to such\nwords.\n\nI looked at him and answered that it was nothing to me whether he\nsealed or did not seal them; indeed that considering all, I should be\nbetter pleased if he let the bargain be.\n\nHe stared at me and rage took hold of him who was inflamed with wine.\n\n\"Who are you,\" he said, \"that dare to talk thus to Tenes the King? You\nare but a woman clad in the robes of a priestess who pretend to powers\nyou have not. Why should I not take you and have done?\"\n\nNow I mocked him, answering,\n\n\"Because I think you love to sit upon a throne better than to lie in a\ngrave, Tenes, even in a king's coffin. Still, as you desire to know\nmore particularly, I will put your question to the goddess, who is not\nfar from me even on this ship, and to-morrow when the sun is up I will\npass on her words to you--that is, if you live to look upon\nto-morrow's sun, King Tenes,\" I added, staring him in the eyes.\n\nThese words seemed to sober him, for he turned pale and left the\ncabin, making a sign to avert the evil eye, but as I noted, taking the\nwriting with him. Yet me he left perplexed and afraid, for my heart\nwas not so bold as my mouth!\n\n\nNow that night, whether by chance or by the will of Heaven, a great\ntempest sprang up suddenly. The captain of the trireme, a Greek or a\nhalf-Greek of Naukratis, Philo by name, whom now upon this ship I met\nfor the first time, came himself to warn me, and to make sure that all\nwas fast in my cabin. He was a quick-brained man, very active in his\nbody and pleasant-faced, with a brown, pointed beard, who had seen\nsome five and thirty years upon the earth. I had made inquiries\nconcerning him from a certain slave who attended me, and was told that\nalthough he pretended to timidity, this Philo was in truth a great\nwarrior and one of the best handlers of a bow upon the mouths of Nile,\nsince that which he aimed at he always hit, even if it were a fowl in\nflight. Moreover, he was a very good seaman and, it was said, faithful\nto those he served and a worshipper of the gods.\n\n\"If so,\" I answered to that old slave, \"how comes it that this Philo,\ninstead of a humble captain, is not the first general or admiral among\nthe Greeks, as a man of such quality should be?\"\n\n\"Because, divine Lady, of certain faults,\" answered the slave, \"such\nfaults as have made of me what I am instead of the Count of a Nome\nupon the Nile as I should have been. This Philo has always thought\nmore of the welfare of others than of his own, which is a very evil\nweakness; also he has loved women too much, which is a worse.\"\n\n\"Vile sins indeed,\" I said, \"more particularly the second. The wise\nalways think of themselves first, and the holy never love more than\none woman, and her not too much, which perhaps is why the wise and the\nholy are so hateful and so dull. Bring this Philo to me; he is one\nwhom I should wish to know.\"\n\nIn the end Philo came, though whether because my message had reached\nhim, or because of the advancing storm, I am not certain. At least he\ncame, and as he bowed before me, made a certain secret sign whereby I\nknew that he was a worshipper of Isis and one of high degree, though\nnot of the highest, since when I tried him with that sign he could not\nanswer. Still his rank in our great company was enough, and\nthenceforward we spoke to each other under the seal of the goddess, or\nas our phrase went in those days \"within the shadow of her wings,\" as\nbrother and sister might, or rather as mother and son.\n\nThat is, we did this after I had proved him further and brought to his\nmind the fate of those who betray the goddess and her ministers upon\nearth.\n\nThis Philo told me in few words, that although the trireme was\nEgyptian and named _Hapi_ after the god of Nile, for this voyage she\nwas under charter to Tenes and for the most part manned with\nSidonians, also with low fellows from Cyprus and the coast-ports.\nThese like the Ph\u0153nician guards of Tenes, of whom there were fifty on\nthe vessel, worshipped other gods than those of Egypt, that is, such\nof them as worshipped any gods at all.\n\nMany of these men, Philo said warningly, murmured because a priestess\nof Isis was on board their ship, which they thought would anger the\nPh\u0153nician gods of whom the images had been set upon the prow, as\nmight lawfully be done when a vessel was hired by Tyre or Sidon.\n\nI answered laughing that as he and I knew, Isis could hold her own\nagainst Baal, Astarte, and all their company. Then, changing my mien,\nI asked him suddenly what he meant.\n\n\"Only this, Holy one,\" he answered: \"That if by chance the ship came\ninto danger--and I like not the signs of the sky and the moaning of\nthe black north wind with rocks not two leagues away upon our lee,\nthen I say if this ship came into danger, as might chance this very\nnight, for here gales grow suddenly--well, Holy one, you might be in\ndanger also. In such cases, Holy one, sometimes the Ph\u0153nicians demand\na sacrifice to the _Cabiri_, the great gods of the sea whom we do not\nworship.\"\n\n\"Is it so?\" I answered coldly. \"Then tell them that those who demand\nsacrifices often furnish the victims. Have no fear, my\nbrother-in-the-goddess. But if trouble comes, call to me to help you.\"\n\nThen I stretched out to him the _sistrum_ that was part of my\nornaments of office in which I had been brought aboard that ship, and\nhe kissed it with his lips and went about his business.\n\nScarce had he gone when the black north wind began to blow. It blew\nfearfully, rising hour by hour and even minute by minute, till the\ngale was terrible. The rowers could no longer row, for the great seas\nbroke their oars, of which the handles struck them, hurling them\nbackward from the benches, and the sail they tried to hoist upon the\nmast was torn away and went flapping down the wind like a wounded\ngull. Thus continually the _Hapi_ was driven in toward the coast of\nSyria where, still some miles away, the moonlight when it broke out\nbetween the clouds showed the white surf of breakers foaming on the\niron rocks of Carmel.\n\nToward midnight the tall mast snapped in two like a rotten stick and\nwent overboard, carrying with it certain men and crushing others. Then\nterror took hold of all the company upon this ship, so that they began\nto cry aloud who believed that black death was on them.\n\nNow one shouted,\n\n\"We are bewitched! At this season there should be no such gale, it is\nagainst nature.\"\n\nAnother answered,\n\n\"Little wonder that we are bewitched who carry with us a sorceress of\nEgypt, one who hates our gods, wherefore they are angry.\"\n\nThis they said because they had heard the tale of the water turned to\nblood, also of the oracles I was wont to utter in the temple at\nMemphis. For in that city dwelt many Ph\u0153nicians who were great\ntalkers and lovers of strange tales, though now, Holly tells me all\ntheir race is silent for ever and the only tales they hear are those\nof Gehenna.\n\nThen arose another shout from many throats,\n\n\"Sacrifice the witch to the gods of the Sea. Throw her into the sea\nthat they may take her and we may live to look upon to-morrow's sun!\"\n\nNext there was a rush toward the afterpart of the trireme where I was\nin the cabin. In the waist of the ship appeared the captain, Philo, as\nI saw watching from between the curtains, and with him a number of the\ncrew who were Egyptians and faithful to him, perhaps six in all, not\nmore. In his hands Philo held a bow, and a drawn short-sword was\nthrust through his belt.\n\nHe shouted to the mob of madmen to stand back, but they would not, and\nled by one of the guards of Tenes, crept forward. Philo knelt, resting\nhis back against a water-cask, waiting till the ship steadied herself\na little on the crest of a wave. Then he drew the bow and shot. Very\nwell and straight did he shoot, for the arrow pierced that leader of\nthe guard of Tenes from breast to back, so that he fell down dead.\nSeeing this, the others grew afraid and stayed where they were,\nclinging to the bulwarks of the ship or whatever they could grasp with\ntheir hands.\n\nTenes appeared among them. They shouted to him and he shouted back to\nthem, but what they said I could not hear because of the howling of\nthe wind.\n\nPhilo crept into the cabin and his face was very heavy.\n\n\"Holy one,\" he said, \"make ready to join Isis in the heavens. Fearing\nfor his own life, that dog of a Sidonian king has consented to your\nsacrifice and I am come to die with you.\"\n\n\"The goddess thanks you, O great-hearted man, and I, her servant,\nthank you also,\" I said, smiling at him. \"Yet have no fear, since my\nspirit tells me that neither I nor you shall die this night. Help me\nnow and let us go forth and talk with these hissing snakes of Sidon.\"\n\n\"But what will you say to them, Holy one?\"\n\n\"The goddess will teach me what to say,\" I answered, who in truth did\nnot know what I should say. All I knew was that some spirit moved me\nto go forth and to talk with them.\n\nSo we went, I leaning upon Philo as it was hard to stand upon my feet,\nand came to the stump of the broken mast in the midst of the hollow\nship, all the mob of the crew drawing back before me. Here with one\narm I clung to the mast, and beckoned to them with the other in which\nI held the _sistrum_ of our worship. They drew near, Tenes among them,\nhis face covered by a cloak.\n\n\"Hearken!\" I cried. \"I learn that you would offer me, the Prophetess\nof Isis, as a sacrifice to your gods. Fools! Is not Isis greater than\nyour gods? O Queen of Heaven! send a sign to show that thou art\ngreater than these foreign gods!\"\n\nSo I spoke and stared upward at the moon, for the wind had torn away\nmy veil, and waited.\n\nA great billow came and struck the forepart of the ship, burying it\ndeep in green water. As she rose I saw two dark forms fly from her\nhigh-tossed prow and a voice cried,\n\n\"The guardian images have gone and the sacred fire is quenched!\"\n\n\"Aye,\" I answered, \"they are gone where you shall go, every one of\nyou, if you dare to touch me. Know that I do not fear for my own life\nwhich cannot be taken from me, but for your lives I fear, and for\nSidon, which presently shall lack a king--if you dare to touch me. Be\nsilent now and though you deserve it not, I will pray Isis to save\nyou.\"\n\nThen gaping on me standing there like one inspired, as indeed I think\nI was, they were struck to silence and through the roaring gale and\nflying foam I prayed to Heaven to preserve that ship and those she\nbore from the grinding rocks on which the surf beat not a mile away.\n\nA marvel happened, whether because the tempest had grown weary of its\nraging, or because That which hears the prayers of men had accepted my\nprayer for its own purposes, to this hour I know not. At least the\nmarvel happened, for although the sea still beat and rushed, wave\nfollowing wave, like white-maned, countless charging steeds, of a\nsudden the gale died down and there was calm between sky and sea.\n\n\"It has pleased the great goddess to hearken to me and to save your\nlives, yes, even the lives of you who would have murdered her\npriestess,\" I said in a quiet voice. \"Now get you to your oars and row\nas never you rowed before, if you would hold the ship off yonder\nrocks.\"\n\nThey gasped. They stared with open mouths! One said,\n\n\"_Thou_ art the goddess; _thou_ art the very goddess! Pardon us,\npardon us, thy slaves, O Queen of Heaven!\"\n\nThen they rushed to their oars and with toil and danger drew the\n_Hapi_ past the promontory of Carmel where the water boiled upon the\nrocks, and out into the deep sea beyond.\n\n\"What did I say to you, Philo?\" I said, as he led me back to the\ncabin.\n\nHe made no answer, only lifting the hem of my garment, he pressed it\nto his brow.\n\n\n CHAPTER VIII\n The King of Sidon\n\nNext morning the sun came up in a sky of perfect blue and the\n_Hapi_, driven forward by the oars, since her mast was gone, passed\nnorthward over a quiet sea. Not a league away upon our right, gleaming\nlike gold, were the roofs of the glorious city of Tyre, set like a\nqueen upon her island throne, Tyre that as yet did not dream of evil\ndays when her marble palaces should melt in flame and her merchant\nprinces and citizens lie butchered by the thousand in her streets;\nTyre the wanton, the beauteous, the wealthy, who sucked riches from\nall the lands.\n\nSeeing our shattered state, a boat manned by red-capped seamen came\nout from the Egyptian harbour to learn if we needed help. But Philo\nshouted back to its officer that, save for the loss of a mast and some\nmen, we had taken no harm in the gale and hoped ere night to be safe\nin Sidon.\n\nSo the boat returned and we rowed on.\n\nBy midday we caught sight of the towers of Sidon and within three more\nhours, the sea being calm, had dropped anchor in the southern harbour.\n\n\nNow after we left Tyre Tenes the King came to visit me in my cabin. At\nthe sight of him my gorge rose for I remembered that this dog of a\nSidonian had consented to the demand of the sailors that I should be\nhurled into the deep as a sacrifice to his gods. Yet I restrained my\nsoul and received him smiling and unveiled.\n\n\"Hail, King Tenes,\" I said, \"Isis has been very merciful to you in\nanswer to my prayer; for know that never again did I think to look\nupon you living.\"\n\n\"You are great, Lady,\" he answered, staring at me with frightened yet\ndevouring eyes. \"I think that you are as great as that Isis whom you\nserve, if indeed you are not that Isis come to earth, as they name you\nin Egypt. Isis I know not who worship Ashtoreth, she who is also\nstyled Tanith and Baaltis, and like your Isis, is an acknowledged\nQueen of Heaven, but you I know, and your power, for did you not cause\nthe terrible tempest to cease last night and save us all from death\nupon the rocks of Carmel?\"\n\n\"Aye, I did this, Tenes, having strength given to me, whence it\nmatters not. It is strange to think, is it not?\"--here I bent forward\nand stared him in the eyes--\"that on board this ship there are men so\ncowardly and so evil that they took counsel to cast me to the deep as\na sacrifice to their gods, and that had they done so, though me, had\nthey known it, they could not harm, they themselves, every one of\nthem, would have been that sacrifice.\"\n\nNow he writhed and turned colour beneath my glance, but answered,\n\n\"Is it so, Lady? Name me those men and they shall be slain.\"\n\n\"Aye, King Tenes, without doubt they shall be slain, every one of\nthem, since Isis does not forget a threat of murder against her\npriestess. Yet I name them not. Where is the need when already those\nnames are written on the tablets of Heaven? Let them be till Fate\nfinds them, since I would not have you in your rage stain your hands\nwith their vile blood. But what would you with me, King?\"\n\n\"You know well,\" he answered thickly. \"I worship you. I am mad with\nlove of you. When I saw you standing by the broken mast and making\nprayer, even then upon the edge of doom, my heart melted for you. I\nsay that there is a raging fire in my breast that only you can\nquench,\" and he made as though he would fall upon his knees before me.\n\nI motioned to him to remain seated, and answered,\n\n\"I remember, King, that you spoke in this same fashion before the\nstorm and that, half in jest, I wrote certain terms upon which I would\nbecome your queen, namely, when you could give me rule over all the\nearth. Wisely, perhaps, to these terms you would not set your seal;\nindeed you asked me why you should not take me to be your toy, and to\nthat question an answer came to you last night when the ship wallowed\nwater-logged and on her lee you saw the billows spouting on the rocks\nof Carmel. Also the goddess has told me more of what would chance to\nyou should you dare to lift a hand against her priestess. I tell you\nthat it is horrible, so horrible that I spare you, since if you heard\nit, you would tremble. What need to talk of such a crime when such a\njudgment would follow hard upon its heels? So have done, Tenes, and\nlearn that it is my pleasure to return to Egypt in this ship.\"\n\n\"Nay, nay!\" he cried, \"I cannot part with you; sooner would I lose my\ncrown. I tell you that if I lost sight of you and hope of you, I\nshould go mad----\"\n\n\"Which perchance you may do yet, Tenes,\" I replied laughing, \"if\nindeed you are not already mad after the fashion of tyrants who for\nthe first time are robbed of that which they desire. You have my\ncommands, so have done. I would speak with Philo the captain as to\nwhen he can be ready to sail for Nile.\"\n\n\"Hearken, Lady, hearken!\" he said thickly. \"I have the writing here. I\nwill sign it in your presence if you swear to abide by it.\"\n\n\"Is it so? Well, Tenes, I do not change my word. When you can crown me\nQueen of Ph\u0153nicia, Egypt, Persia, and the rest, as I can show you how\nto do, then I will take you for husband and reign as your sole wife.\nBut until then never shall you dare so much as to touch me. Now I am\nweary, who last night slept so ill. Do you wish to seal the writing,\nfor if so it shall be done before a witness whose life and welfare\nhenceforth shall be as sacred to you as my own.\"\n\n\"Aye, aye, I will seal, I will seal,\" he said.\n\nThen I clapped my hands and the slave who waited without appeared. I\nbade him summon Philo, the captain of the ship, and to bring wax.\nPresently Philo came and I told him what was needed of him. More,\ndemanding the papyrus from Tenes, I read it to both of them, Philo\nlistening with a stony stare of amazement. Then the wax was spread\nupon the papyrus and Tenes sealed it with his seal, which was a\ncylinder of lapis lazuli having images of gods upon it after the old\nBabylonian fashion. Also, beneath my own, he wrote his name in\nPh\u0153nician letters which I could not read. Then Philo as witness wrote\nhis, for being half a Greek, he knew this art, and sealed it with his\nseal, a scarab cut in cornelian by no mean artist, doubtless a\nGrecian, which scarab, he said, he had taken many years before from\nthe finger of one whom he killed in battle. When I looked at what it\nleft upon the wax, I laughed, for behold the device was that of a\nDiana, or perchance a nymph, shooting with an arrow a brute-faced faun\nthat had surprised her at the bath. To my mind the face of that faun\nor satyr was very like to the face of Tenes, and Philo thought it also\nfor I saw him glance from one to the other, and heard him mutter, \"An\nomen! An omen!\" beneath his breath in the Egyptian tongue which Tenes\ndid not understand.\n\nWhen the roll was signed Tenes would have taken it, but I answered,\n\n\"Nay, on that day when its conditions are fulfilled it shall be yours.\nBut till then it is mine.\"\n\nStill I promised to give him a copy of the writing, and with this he\nwas, or feigned to be, content.\n\nWhen Philo had gone Tenes asked me how he was to become ruler of the\nworld and thus to win me.\n\nI answered that I would tell him later in Sidon after I had thought\nand prayed. But one thing he must swear, namely, to listen to no\ncounsels save my own, since otherwise he might lose me and with me\nall. He did so by his gods, being at that time so bemused that he\nwould have sworn anything if thereby he might keep near to me.\nMoreover, he told me that it was his purpose to set me in a palace\nnear his own, or perchance in a part of his own, that there he might\nvisit me daily and learn my counsels.\n\nI bowed my head and said, the more often the better, so long as he\ncame for counsel and no more. Then I dismissed him and he went like\nany slave.\n\nWhen he had gone once more I summoned Philo and, \"under the wings of\nthe goddess,\" that is, under an oath of secrecy to break which is\ndeath, I told him, my brother-in-Isis, the meaning of this play,\nnamely that I would be avenged upon Tenes who had affronted me and the\ngoddess, who also, in his cowardice, had proposed to sacrifice me in\nthe deep, an offering to his false divinities. Moreover, I gave him\nthat copy of the writing which I had made and, his charter being\nfulfilled, bade him get back to Egypt as soon as might be and deliver\nit to Noot, the high-priest of Isis, and with it all this story.\n\nThere at Memphis I bade him bide, having a great ship, this one or\nanother, ready, manned with brave men, all of them followers of Isis,\nwith whom Noot would furnish him, also with the moneys needful to hire\nor buy that ship. There he was to wait till my word came. How it would\ncome I did not know as yet. Perchance this would be by messenger, or\nperchance I should talk with the spirit of Noot, by means at the\ncommand of those initiated in the highest mysteries of the goddess. At\nleast when my word came he must sail at once and come to me at Sidon.\n\nThese things he swore to do. Moreover, I wrote a letter which\nafterward I gave to him to deliver to Noot.\n\nWe cast anchor in the harbour, hoisting the royal standard of Tenes as\nbest we could on a tall pole at the prow. At once gilded barges, on\nboard of which were generals and priests, put off from the quay, and\nwatching from my cabin, I saw Tenes talk earnestly with these notables\nwho from time to time glanced toward where I was hidden. Then a\nmessenger came to pray me to be pleased to abide on board the ship\ntill preparation had been made to receive me, a matter to which the\nking departed to attend. So I stayed there and spoke with Philo about\nmany things, learning from him much concerning the Sidonians, their\nwealth and their strength in war.\n\nTwo hours later a barge arrived, the royal barge, I think, for it was\nglorious with silks and gold and the rowers wore blazoned uniforms. On\nboard this barge was Tenes himself and with him, among others, priests\nwho wore tall caps, also some priestesses. The king came and bowing,\nled me to a carpeted ladder by which I descended into the barge. As I\nwent down its steps I said with a laugh,\n\n\"If some had won their way last night, O King, I should have left this\nship in a very different fashion. Well, I forgive them, poor fools and\ncowards, but whether the goddess whom I serve will forgive them is\nanother matter\"--words at which I saw him wince.\n\nBefore I went also I stepped aside and again spoke to Philo who stood\nnear the head of the ladder, cap in hand. That speech was short yet\nsufficient, being of but two words,\n\n\"Remember everything.\"\n\n\"To the death! Child of Wisdom,\" he answered.\n\n\"What says the mariner?\" asked Tenes suspiciously.\n\n\"Naught, O King. That is, he only prays me to intercede with the\ngoddess lest the fate of those who would have harmed me on this ship\nshould overtake him also who is its captain.\"\n\nAgain Tenes winced and again I smiled.\n\nWe were rowed ashore, and there upon the quay waited a chariot drawn\nby milk-white horses in which chariot I was seated, splendidly\napparelled men leading the horses. In front of me went the king in\nanother chariot and behind followed an escort of guards.\n\nThus we proceeded through the glorious streets of Sidon and being\nmoved thereto, I lifted my veil and stood up in the chariot as though\nI would see these better. Already the fame of my coming had spread\nabroad, so that those streets and the flat roofs of the houses were\ncrowded with thousands of the people. These, when they saw my beauty,\ngasped with wonder and cried in their own tongue,\n\n\"No woman! No woman! A goddess indeed!\"\n\nYet I thought that I heard others answer,\n\n\"Aye, a false goddess sent to Sidon to be her ruin.\"\n\nTrue words indeed, though, as I think, inspired by hate and jealousy\nrather than from on high.\n\nWe came to a great and noble square, the Holy Place it was called,\nround which stood statues of those whom the Sidonians worshipped,\nBaal, Ashtoreth, and the rest of their d\u00e6mons. Moreover, with its\nback to a temple stood a huge and hideous god of brass, who in front\nof him, upon great hands which seemed to be discoloured with fire,\nheld a curved tray whereof the inner edge rested on an opening in the\nbelly of the figure. I asked of one who walked by the chariot what was\nthe name of this god. He answered,\n\n\"Dagon whom some call Moloch, to whom the firstborn are sacrificed by\nfire. See, the priests are storing the hollow place beneath with wood.\nSoon, doubtless, there will be a great offering.\"\n\nThenceforward I hated this people, for what could one born in Arabia\nand a servant of Isis, the holy and gentle, think of a race that\noffered sacrifice of those born of them to a d\u00e6mon? Yes, I looked on\ntheir faces, keen, handsome, and cruel, and hated them, one and all.\n\nWe came to the door of the palace where slaves ran forward, assisting\nme from the chariot. By it stood Tenes surrounded with glittering\nnobles and white-robed priests who stared at me doubtfully.\n\n\"Be pleased to enter my house, Lady, fearing nothing, for there you\nshall be well lodged and given of the best that Sidon has to offer,\"\nsaid Tenes.\n\n\"I thank you,\" I answered, bowing and letting fall my veil, \"and I\ndoubt it not, for what less than her best could Sidon give to the\nDaughter of Isis, the Queen of Heaven?\"\n\nYes, thus I answered proudly, I who played a great game and staked all\nupon a throw.\n\n\"Here we have another Queen of Heaven and she is not named Isis,\" I\nheard one of the dark-browed priests mutter to a companion, thinking\nthat I did not understand his words.\n\nThey led me into a glorious dwelling wherein were chambers more\nsplendid than any that I had seen in my journeys through the Eastern\nworld. Gold and gems were everywhere and on the walls hung priceless\ntrappings dyed with the Tyrian purple of that costly sort to use which\nis the prerogative of kings. The very carpets on the floors shone like\nsilk and were woven to things of beauty, while the lamps seemed to be\nhollowed from great gems.\n\n\"Who lodges in this place?\" I asked of a slave when I was alone.\n\n\"Who but the Queen Beltis, divine one,\" answered the slave, bowing low\nbefore me.\n\n\"Where then is the Queen Beltis? I see her not.\"\n\n\"Nay, divine one, she visits her father at Jerusalem, whence she\nshould return shortly. Indeed, the King has issued orders that other\nchambers should be prepared for her against her coming.\"\n\n\"Is it so?\" I replied indifferently, but within my heart I wondered\nwhat this queen would say when she came to find her palace inhabited\nby a stranger and a rival.\n\nThen to the sound of sweet music I ate from services of gold and drank\nout of jewelled cups, and afterward, being weary, who had rested\nlittle on that ship and was tempest-tossed, laid me down to sleep in a\nsoft and scented bed guarded by women and by eunuchs.\n\n\"Easy enough,\" thought I to myself, \"would it be for these to murder\nme, one unfriended and alone in a strange land,\" and because of this\nfor a little felt afraid who at that time was but as other mortals\nare. On the ship I had feared nothing, for there was Philo, a brother\nof my faith, and with him some others who could be trusted. But here I\nwas but as a lamb ringed round with wolves. Moreover, besides the\nwolves there was a lion, the king-brute Tenes, who sought to snare me,\nand whom I knew for a liar, not to be trusted whatever he might swear.\n\nYes, for a little while, perhaps for the first time in my life, and\ncertainly for the last, that is, where my body was at stake, I felt\nsomewhat afraid, so much so that I went to a window-place to watch the\nrising of the moon and to make my prayer to Isis of whom it was the\nsymbol, that she would be pleased to protect me in this city whither\nby her will I had wandered.\n\nThis window looked out upon that flame-lit square which was called the\nHoly Place. There I noted that thousands of those of Sidon were\ngathered, some of them staring up at the palace to which it was known\nI had been taken, pointing and talking. The most of them, however,\nwandered round the great brazen statue, that hideous, devil-faced\nthing whereof I have written, and when they could, caught one of the\npriests by the arm and put questions to him.\n\nAmong these, I noticed, were many women, some of whom from their mien\nseemed to be noble, whose faces were strange to see. Defiant they\nwere, yet in a way proud, as might be the faces of those about to do\nsome great deed. Moreover, many of these women led or carried\nchildren, which little ones they showed to the priests who smiled\nhorribly and nodded approval, patting the children on the arm and even\nkissing them.\n\nOne lady, after her son had received such a kiss, wailed aloud and,\nclasping him to her breast, turned and fled away, whereon the priest\ncursed her and the other women shouted \"Shame!\" then strove to cover\nup the misery that peeped out of their eyes by singing some fierce\nsong in honour of their gods.\n\nStudying this scene, presently the meaning of it came home to me.\nThose children were doomed to be sacrificed to the brazen Dagon or\nMoloch whereof I remembered having heard in Jerusalem as a devil to\nwhom the firstborn were passed through the fire. Yes, and these the\nmothers had brought them there that they might look upon the god and\ngrow accustomed to the sight of him.\n\nOh! it was horrible, and my heart chilled at the thought of such\niniquity. What reward from Heaven, I marvelled, for a people who\npractised such a faith?\n\nAs I marvelled an answer seemed to come to me. The sun had sunk but\nthere were heavy clouds in the sky above upon which struck its\ndeparting rays. Thence they were reflected on to the city and chiefly\nupon this Holy Place, as it was called, and the brazen image that sat\nthere before the temple. Yes, from those clouds came red light that\nfilled the air and the city beneath and the Holy Place, as it were\nwith a mist of blood. It was as though everything were dyed with\nblood, and in the midst, ringed round with torches, glowed Moloch, a\ngod of blood!\n\nThen I knew that Sidon was doomed to be drowned in blood; that such\nwas the decree of Heaven and that I, Ayesha, was the instrument\nappointed to loose this spear of death upon her beauteous, sinful\nbreast. I shivered at the thought, I who love not cruelty or to spend\nthe lives of men, though it was true that I would kill Tenes. Yet what\nwas I but the lightning in the hands of Fate, and can the lightning\nchoose where it will strike? Must it not fall whither it is drawn? To\nthis end had I been sent to earth, namely that I might bring woe upon\nfalse Egypt and the peoples who clung to her.\n\nSuch was the burden of that dream by which my sleep was haunted, such\ntoo the command of Heaven which again and again Noot the prophet had\nwhispered in my ear. I must destroy Egypt, or rather her apostate\npriests and rulers, and afterward once more build up the worship of\nIsis in some far land that should be revealed to me. Such was my\nmission, whereof it was decreed that I should fulfil the first part\nand because of my sin leave the rest undone.\n\nHolly the learned tells me that the new faith he follows, to which I\nwill not listen who am weary of religions and their changeful march\ntoward a changeless end, writes it down that free will is given to\nman, that he is able to choose this path and reject the other; that he\nis the master of his own soul which he can guide here or there as the\nhorseman guides his steed or Philo steered his ship.\n\nAnd yet he read to me from the writings of one of the great apostles\nof that faith, a certain holy one named Paulus, words which declared\nthat man is predestined ere he was born to eternal life or eternal\ndeath, to the glory of the light or the unfathomed dark. To me these\ndoctrines seem to war one upon the other, though for aught I know both\nmay be true, seeing that within the circle of the starry spheres and\nthe vast soul of That which made them, there is room for a multitude\nof truths whereof the shadows falling upon the gross earth take a\nthousand shapes of error.\n\nMoreover, I hold that whatever is, is true because it is, and that men\ndo but tangle themselves in seeming differences that are only varying\nlights darting from the eternal eyes of Truth. On all hearts shine\nthose eyes, but none beholds them as his brother does, for to each\nthey burn as a separate torch of different-coloured flame. Therefore\nit is that men worship many gods not knowing that these are the same\nGod whose hands hold all things.\n\nThus I sum up the matter. At least through the millions of the ages\nand the multitudes of lives man may attain to freedom if his face be\nset that way of his own desire. Yet in his little hour on the earth,\nthat falsely he believes his all, looking from birth to death and the\nblackness that bounds them both, he is not free but a part of\nStrengths that are greater than his own. Have I, Ayesha, been free, I\nwho chose the holy path and fell from it into Nature's gulfs? Did I\ndesire to fall? Did I not desire to climb that steep road to the\nheights of Heaven and sit enthroned upon the topmost snows of purity\nand peace? And yet another Might hurled me thence and now it is my\nfate to climb again; by slow and painful steps to climb eternally.\n\nBut of these things I will speak in their season, telling what is the\nprice those pay who seek to overleap the bounds that hem us in and to\nmatch their pettiness against divine decrees.\n\nThese in the midst of the red light that filled Sidon like a bowl with\nblood and shone on me and all; on me, the priestess, on the brazen\nDagon towering up against me, on fantastic, lamp-lit temples and\npalaces, on the great place about which they stood and the\nfierce-faced multitude that wandered on its marble pavements, there in\nthe window-opening I knelt me down and prayed, lifting my face to the\npure heavens above. To Isis did I pray, as an idolater prays to an\nimage in a cave, because Isis was my symbol, or rather to That which\nis as far above Isis as Isis was above me. For I prayed to the Soul of\nthat Universe whereof my eyes could see a part in the arching skies,\nand of this Soul what was Isis but as one golden thread in a\nglittering garment that wraps the majesty of God? And what then was I\nand what were those fierce-faced worshippers of Dagon?\n\nOh! in that hour of dedication, for such I felt it to be, these truths\ncame home to my heart as never they had done before. And this was the\nsum of them, that I and all I could see and know were but as\nimpalpable grains of dust, not sufficient to cause the delicately hung\nbalance wherein the wilfulness of the world is poised against the\ndecrees of the immortal Law to vary by a hair's breadth. Still I\nprayed and because that which is small yet ever contains that which is\nsmaller, and the smaller finds a god in the small, as the small does\nin the great, from that prayer I won comfort.\n\nMy prayer finished I laid me down to rest in the golden bed of Beltis,\nthe queen into whose place I had been thrust, bethinking me how many\nand near were the dangers by which I was surrounded. That brute king\ndesired me for a prey and here in his palace I lay in the hollow of\nhis hand. He had the key to all my doors; the servants who stood about\nthem were his creatures whom at a nod he could send to death. I was a\nstranger in a strange land, utterly unfriended, for Philo was far off\nupon his ship; there was nothing between me and him save the\nimpalpable veil of fear which I had woven between us by the strength\nof my spirit. I was a prize to be taken, unarmoured, without javelin\nor arrow to protect me, with nothing, nothing save that veil of fear.\nIf he chose to break through it, daring my curse and that of my\ngoddess, he could do so. Then the curse would fall indeed, but it\nwould be too late to save me, and I the proud and pure, must pass\nhence defiled, as pass I would. Still trusting to the goddess, or\nrather to the part of her which dwelt in me, or to That which was\nabove us both, I laid me down and slept.\n\n\nAt midnight I awoke. The light of the moon flowing through the\nwindow-places flooded the splendid chamber, catching on the cornices\nof gold, the polished mirrors and the silver vessels. The door opened\nand through it wrapped in a dark cloak came Tenes. Though his face was\nhidden I knew him by his heavy shape and shambling step. He crept\ntoward me like a wolf upon a sleeping lamb. There I lay in the golden\nbed illumined by the moon, and watched through the web of my\noutstretched hair, my hand upon the dagger that was buckled to my\ngirdle. He drew near, he bent over me breathing heavily, and his eyes\ndevoured my beauty. Still I feigned sleep and watched him, while my\nfingers closed upon the handle of the dagger. He unbuckled his cloak,\nrevealing his hook-nosed visage, and a draught of wind seemed to catch\nit, for it flapped and fell from his shoulders, though I felt no wind.\nHe stooped as though to lift it, and it would seem came face to face\nwith I know not what. Perchance it was the goddess invisible to me.\nPerchance it was some picture of his own death to come. I cannot say.\nAt least his shifting eyes sank in till they seemed to vanish beneath\nthe hairy brows, and his fat cheeks grew pallid as though the blood\nwere draining from them by a mortal wound. Words came hissing from his\nthick lips and they were,\n\n\"Horrible! Horrible! She is indeed divine, for gods and ghosts protect\nher! Horrible! Death walks the air!\"\n\n\nThen he reeled from the room dragging the cloak after him, and knowing\nthat I had no more to fear, I returned thanks to the guardian spirits\nand slept sweetly. The danger that I dreaded had drawn near and\npassed--to return no more.\n\n\n CHAPTER IX\n Dagon Takes His Sacrifice\n\nThe sun arose on Sidon and drove away the terrors of the dark. I too\narose and was led to the bath by slaves. Then those slaves clothed me\nin the silks of Cyprus, over which I threw a new veil bordered with\nthe purple of Tyre. More, they brought me gifts from the King,\npriceless jewels, pearls with rubies and sapphires set in gold. Those\nI laid aside who would not wear his gems. Then, in another chamber, I\nate as before of meats delicately served by bowing maidens. Scarce had\nI finished my meal of fish from the sea and fruit and snow-cooled\nwater drunk from a crystal cup, when a eunuch came saying the King\nTenes craved audience of me.\n\n\"Let him enter,\" I answered.\n\nPresently he stood before me, making salutation, and asked me with\nfeigned carelessness whether I had rested well.\n\n\"Aye, great King,\" I answered, \"well enough, save for a single, very\nvivid dream. I dreamed that Set, the god of Evil, rose out of the\ndarkness of hell wearing the shape of a man whose face I could not\nsee, and that this fiend would have seized me and dragged me down into\nthe pit of hell. I was afraid, and while I lay as one in a net, there\ncame to me a vision of the divine Isis who said,\n\n\"'Where is thy faith, Daughter? If I saved thee on the ship, giving\nthee the lives of all her company, cannot I save thee now and always?\nFiends shall not harm thee, nor men; swords shall not pierce thee nor\nfires burn, and if any would lay hands on thee, on them I give thee\npower to call down my vengeance and to cast them to the jaws of the\nDevourer who, awaiting evil-doers, watches ever in the black depth of\ndeath.'\n\n\"Then in my dreams the Mother whispered into the ears of that fiend\nshaped like a man, and passing her hand before his eyes, showed him\ncertain visions, though what these were I know not. At the least they\ncaused him to wail aloud with terror, also to my sight to fall as from\na precipice and, like some foul vulture pierced by an archer's shaft,\ngo whirling down, down, and down, into gulfs that had no bottom. It\nwas a very evil dream, King Tenes, and yet sweet, because it told me\nthat though I should journey to the ends of the earth, still I shall\nnot pass out of the shelter of the circling arms of Isis.\"\n\n\"Evil indeed, Lady,\" he said hoarsely, biting his lips to still the\nquaver in his voice. \"Yet it ended well, so what of dreams?\"\n\n\"Very well, O King--for me. And as for dreams, I, who by gifts and\ntraining am skilled in their interpretations, hold that for the most\npart they are a shadow of the Truth. I know that certainly no harm can\ncome to me in your palace over which one day I must rule, or in your\ncity where I am a guest. Yet doubtless some peril of the spirit did\nthreaten me last night, and by the help of Heaven was brought to\nnothing.\"\n\n\"Doubtless, doubtless! though of such matters _I_ know nothing, who\ndeal with the things of earth, not with those of Heaven. But, Lady, I\ncame to tell you that this day there is a great sacrifice on the Holy\nPlace yonder, and that from these windows you will be able to watch it\nwell. It is to propitiate our gods that they may give us victory in\nthe war against the Persians.\"\n\n\"Is it so, King? But where are the victims? I see no kine, nor sheep,\nnor doves, such as are offered in Rome and in Jerusalem, or even\nflowers and fruit such as in Egypt we lay upon our gentler altars.\"\n\n\"Nay, Lady; here we make more costly offerings, tithing our own blood.\nYes, here Moloch claims the fruit of our bodies, taking them to his\npurifying fires so that their innocent breath may rise as a sweet\nsavour to the nostrils of the devouring and protecting gods.\"\n\n\"Do you, perchance, mean children, King?\"\n\n\"Aye, Lady, children, many children, and among these to-day one of my\nown, the son of a certain Beltis who is of my household. He is a child\nof promise, yet I grudge him not to the god if thereby my people may\nbe benefited.\"\n\n\"And does this Beltis not grudge him, King?\"\n\n\"I know not,\" he answered sullenly. \"She is a woman of the royal House\nof Israel and is absent on a journey. Therefore I know not, and when\nshe returns the boy will have joined the gods and it will be too late\nfor her to make trouble concerning him, should she be so minded.\"\n\nNow horror took hold of me, Ayesha, and my soul sickened.\n\n\"King Tenes,\" I said, \"bethink you of that mother's heart and, I pray\nyou, spare this child.\"\n\n\"How can I, Lady? Must not the king bear that yoke which is laid upon\nthe necks of his people? If I spare him, would not the mothers of\nSidon whose young have passed into the fire spit at me and curse\nme--aye, and tear me to pieces if they might? Nay, he must die with\nthe rest. The priests have so decreed.\"\n\n\"On your head be it, King,\" I said and choked in my loathing of him.\nThen a thought took me, and I cried to those who were gathered about\nthe door of the chamber, captains of the guard, eunuchs, slaves,\nscribes, and a priest or two,\n\n\"Come hither, ye of Sidon, and hearken to the words of her who in\nEgypt is named _Oracle-of-Isis_.\"\n\nThey came, drawn by wonder, or perchance because my strength compelled\nthem.\n\n\"Take note of my words and record them,\" I said, while they stared on\nme. \"Take note and forget it not, that I, the daughter of Isis, have\nmade prayer to King Tenes of Sidon, that he will spare the life of his\nson and the son of a lady named Beltis, and that he has refused my\nprayer. Ye have heard me. It is enough. Go!\"\n\nThey went, looking at each other, the scribes, as I saw, writing down\nwhat I had said upon their tablets. Tenes also stared at me curiously.\n\n\"You are an Arab by birth, born of an Egyptian mother, and wholly\nEgyptian in your faith and mind, though the Arab courage still strikes\nthrough these qualities,\" he said. \"Therefore I forgive you who do not\nunderstand our customs. Yet, know, Lady, that those of Sidon whom it\npleases you to call as witnesses will think you mad.\"\n\n\"Doubtless, Tenes, before all is done, those of Sidon will think many\nthings of me, as you will also. But what will this lady Beltis think?\"\n\n\"I neither know nor care who weary of Beltis and her moods,\" he\nanswered, scowling. \"Beauteous one, I sent you jewels. Why do you not\nwear them?\"\n\n\"The daughter of Isis wears no jewels save those the goddess gives\nher, King. Yet yours shall go to enrich her shrines when I return to\nEgypt, and in her name I thank you for them, bounteous King.\"\n\n\"Aye, when you return to Egypt. But how can you return if you bide\nhere as my wife?\"\n\n\"If I bide here as your wife, then I shall bide as the Queen of Egypt\nas is written in our bond, and from time to time the Queen of Egypt\nmust visit her dominions, King, and give thanks to the goddess for her\nadvancement. Do you understand?\"\n\n\"I understand that you are a very strange woman, so strange that I\nwould I had never set eyes on you and your accursed beauty,\" he\nanswered in a rage.\n\n\"What! So soon?\" I said, laughing. \"That this should be so in the\nbeginning makes me wonder what you will wish in the end. Why not take\nyour eyes off me and have done, King Tenes?\"\n\n\"Because I cannot. Because I am bewitched,\" he answered furiously, and\nrising left me, while I laughed and laughed.\n\nHe departed and I went to the window-place to breathe air free from\nthe poison of his presence. There I saw that the Holy Place beneath\nwas already filled with tens of thousands of the Sidonians. I saw,\nmoreover, that priests were engaged in lighting fire at the foot of\nthe great brazen image of Dagon, which fire seemed to burn within the\nimage, since smoke poured out far above from an opening in his head.\nMoreover, by degrees the copper plates of which its vast and hideous\nbulk was built up grew red with heat, so that the upper part of it\nbecame one glowing furnace.\n\nWhite-robed priests, gathered in troops, began to offer prayers and\ncelebrate rites of which I did not know the meaning. They bowed\nthemselves to the image, they gashed their arms with knives and\ncatching the blood that fell from them in shallow shells of the sea,\ncast it into the fire. Orators made speeches, prophets uttered\nprophecies. Bands of fair women appeared naked to the middle and\nhaving their breasts gilded, who danced wildly before the god.\n\nThen suddenly there was a great silence and from the mouth of some\ngateway that I could not see, because it lay almost beneath the\nbalconies of the palace, appeared the King Tenes clad in gorgeous,\nsacerdotal robes, those, I think, of the high-priest of Baal. With him\nwas a woman who led by the hand a little boy who perhaps had seen\nthree summers, dressed in white with a garland of flowers about his\nneck. Tenes bowed to the glowing image and cried in a loud voice,\n\n\"People of Sidon, I the King make sacrifice of my son to Dagon the\ngreat god, that Dagon may be propitiated and Sidon may conquer in this\nwar. O Dagon, take my son that his spirit may pass through the flames\nand be gathered to thy spirit and that thine appetite may feed upon\nhis blood.\"\n\nAt these words a great and joyous shout went up from the tens of\nthousands of people, and in the midst of the shout Tenes bent down and\nkissed his son, which was the only kindly, human thing that ever I saw\nhim do. The child, affrighted, clung to his robes, but the woman at\nhis side snatched the boy away and ran with him, struggling, to a\npriest who stood by the foot of a little iron ladder of which the top\nrested against the outstretched giant hands of the glowing image.\n\nThe priest took the child from the woman, holding him aloft that the\nmultitude might see him and know him for the very son of the king. Oh!\nnever shall I forget the look upon that child's face as he was thus\nheld aloft in the hands of the brutal priest who stood upon the lower\nrungs of the ladder. He had ceased to scream, but his ruddy cheeks\nwere blanched, his black eyes seemed to start from his head, and his\nlittle hands grasped emptily at the air or were lifted up to heaven,\nwhich indeed was near to him, as though in supplication for\ndeliverance from the cruelty of man.\n\nThe priest climbed the ladder, bearing the child, and I noted a kind\nof metal covering upon his breast and head, set there to shield him\nfrom the heat of the fiery idol.\n\nHe reached the platform of the outstretched hands. The child's fingers\nclung to his garments, but he tore them free and with a cry of triumph\nlet fall the little body into the hollow of the hot hands. Then, to\ndrown the victim's cries, priests standing below began to play upon\ninstruments of music, as they played, singing some hymn to the god. I\nsaw the little arms tossed aloft above the edge of the hollow of the\nbrazen hands. Then I saw those arms lift themselves, feebly for the\nlast time, and that poor, tortured, innocent babe rolled slowly into\nthe red abyss beneath, while the savage multitude screamed its delight\nto heaven.\n\nThis royal sacrifice was accomplished, yet it was but the first of\nmany, for woman after woman brought her child, or sometimes it was a\nman who brought it, and babe after babe was thrown upon the red-hot\nhands and rolled thence into the flames beneath. All the while the\npriests played upon their instruments and sang their songs while the\nshameless priestesses, and others, those with the gilded breasts,\ndanced lewdly, tossing up their white arms, and the thousands of the\npeople of Sidon, filled with the lust of blood, roared aloud in their\ndrunken joy, and the poor mothers, now that the deed was done, crept\nthence, laughing and crying both together, back to their desolated\nhomes, there to stare at the cots emptied into \"the bosom of the god.\"\n\nAt length I could bear no more of this scene of hell, and departing to\nmy sleeping-chamber, caused women to draw curtains over the\nwindow-places and having dismissed them, sat myself down and thought.\n\nA great rage filled me, Ayesha, who have ever loved children--will a\nday come when I shall nurse one upon my breast, I wonder, and if so in\nwhat star will it be born?--and a mighty hate of those accursed\nSidonians. All pity left my heart, even for the young who would grow\nup to be as were those who begat them. These sharks and tigers loved\nblood. Good. They should be filled with blood, their own blood. All of\nthem were guilty, all, all were murderers. Hearken to their horrible\nrejoicings! Old men and maidens, young men and matrons, the toothless\ncrone and the budding girl, the great lords and ladies, the toilers on\nthe deep and the traders of the city, the bond and the free, from the\nking down to the meanest slave, all of them screamed with hideous\nrejoicing as babe after babe was swallowed by the glowing gorge of the\nd\u00e6mon they named a god. Therefore I vowed by Isis that all of them\nshould pay the price of this innocent blood and go down to find their\ngod in hell. Yes, I swore it by the Mother and by my own outraged\nsoul!\n\n\nThe next day Beltis came. The King Tenes was in my outer chamber\nfawning on me and watching me out of his crafty eyes, as I saw through\nthe veil that I had let fall over my face, and my flesh crept at the\nsight of him. Trained though I was and wise though I was, who knew\nwell that the hour had not come to strike, scarce could I bear him\nnear me who longed to drive my dagger through his lying throat. Yet I\nsat still and listened to his flattery and answered him with\ndouble-edged and mocking words of which he could not read the meaning.\nHe told me that already the great sacrifice had borne good fruit,\nsince tidings had come of a new victory over the vanguard of the\nPersians, in which five thousand of the men of Ochus had perished.\n\nI answered that I doubted not it would bear yet better fruit, then\nasked him how many of his folk dwelt in Sidon.\n\nHe answered, some sixty thousand.\n\n\"Then, O King,\" I said, \"I who am filled with the spirit of the\nMother, make a prophecy to you. I prophesy that in reward of the piety\nof this people of yours who do not grudge their own children to the\ngods, the gods will take sixty thousand lives from among the wicked of\nthe earth who worship fire--as I am told these Persians do.\"\n\n\"That is a good saying, Lady,\" he said, rubbing his fat hands, \"though\nit is true that some might say that we Sidonians also worship fire, or\nrather Moloch whose belly is filled with flame as we saw yesterday.\"\n\nNow while we were speaking and this brute bemused was talking thus\nalmost at hazard, for his mind was set on me only, I noted that those\nwho attended him slipped from the place, taking with them the waiting\nwomen and closing the carven doors behind them, so that he and I were\nnow alone. Guessing that this was done by order, I knew that I must\nprepare for some outburst of the man's passion and took counsel with\nmyself. What it was does not matter because of that which followed.\n\nAlready he had begun, for the words, \"O most beauteous!\" had passed\nhis lips when the door burst open and through it came a noble-looking\nwoman. She was tall, dark, and handsome with swift-glancing, tragic\neyes, as I knew at once, a Jewess, since I had seen others like her in\nJerusalem. She glanced at me as though wondering what my veil hid, and\nadvancing, stood before Tenes. He had not heard her come or seen her,\nhis mind being full of other matters and his back toward the doorway.\nAt the sound of her feet he turned and, coming face to face with her,\nstepped backward three paces with a frightened face and uttering some\nPh\u0153nician curse.\n\n\"Have you returned so soon, Beltis?\" he asked. \"What has brought you\nhere before the appointed time?\"\n\n\"My heart, O Tenes, king and husband. Yonder in Jerusalem a prophet of\nJehovah said words to me that caused me to return and swiftly. Tell\nme, Tenes, where is our son? On my path to this chamber I passed\nthrough those where he should be and found him not. All I found was\nhis nurse weeping; aye, so choked with tears that she could not answer\nmy question. Where is our son, Tenes?\"\n\nNow he cast his eyes about him like one who finds himself in a snare,\nand answered thickly,\n\n\"Alas! Lady, the gods have taken our son.\"\n\nShe gasped and clasped her hands upon her heart, saying, or rather\nmoaning,\n\n\"How did they take him, Husband?\"\n\nHe looked through the window-place at the hideous brazen image dulled\nwith heat and blackened by smoke; he looked at the lady with the white\nface and the terrible eyes. Then he strove to speak, but as it seemed,\ncould not, for the mumbled words choked each other in his throat.\n\n\"Answer!\" she said coldly, but he could not, or would not answer.\n\nThen my spirit moving me, I played a part in this ineffable tragedy.\nYes, I, Ayesha, threw back my veil, saying,\n\n\"Queen, if it pleases you to listen I will tell you how your son\ndied.\"\n\nShe looked at me wondering, and asked like one who dreams,\n\n\"Is this a woman or a goddess, or perchance a spirit? Speak on, woman,\nor goddess, or spirit.\"\n\n\"Queen,\" I said, \"look through the window-place and tell me what you\nsee.\"\n\n\"I see the image of Dagon, the brazen image towering to the housetops,\nblackened with fire and staring at me with empty eyes, and beyond it\nthe temple and above it Heaven.\"\n\n\"Queen, yesterday I looked from this window-place and saw that image\nof Dagon, only then from those empty eyes came flame. Also I saw King\nTenes lead out a beauteous, black-eyed boy of three summers or so,\nwhich boy he declared to be his son. This boy he gave to a woman,\nalthough the child clung wailing to his robe. The woman gave him to a\npriest. The priest climbed a ladder--look, there it stands--and laid\nhim upon the red-hot hands of the idol whence he rolled amidst the\nplaudits of the people into a womb of fire, to be perchance reborn in\nHeaven.\"\n\nBeltis heard, and as she heard her face seemed to freeze into a mask\nof ice. Then she stared at Tenes and asked almost in a whisper,\n\n\"Are these things so, O dog of a Sidonian, that like a dog can devour\nyour own flesh?\"\n\n\"The god claimed him,\" he mumbled, \"and like others I must give when\nthe god claims, that victory may crown our arms. Who can deny the god?\nRejoice, O mother, that he has been pleased to accept that which was\nborn of you.\"\n\nSo he mumbled on as priests patter to their idols, till at length in\nthat cold silence his voice died away.\n\nThen Beltis the Queen began to hiss a curse at him, such a curse as,\nsave once only, I have never heard come from the lips of woman. In the\nName of Jehovah, God of the Jews, she cursed him, calling down woe and\ndesolation upon his head, consigning him to a death in blood and\nappointing Gehenna, as she named hell, as a resting-place for his\nsoul, where devils fashioned as children should tear him eternally\nwith hooks of flame. Yes, she cursed him living and dead, but always\nin that low, whispering voice, that inhuman voice which did not seem\nto come from the throat of woman, such a voice as the gods or spirits\nuse when from time to time they speak to their servants in the inmost\nsanctuaries.\n\nHe cowered before her. Once even he sank to his knees, holding his\nhands above his head as though to ward off her words of evil omen.\nThen, as she would not cease, he sprang up, shouting,\n\n\"You also shall be a sacrifice, you worshipper of the God of the Jews.\nDagon is greater than the God of the Jews. Be you a sacrifice to him,\nO Sorceress of Israel!\"\n\nHe drew the sword at his side and shook it. She did not stir, only\nwith her hands she tore upon the robes upon her breast, saying,\n\n\"Smite on, dog of a Sidonian, and complete the circle of your crimes.\nWhere the son went, there let the mother follow!\"\n\nNow in madness, or in rage, or in terror, he lifted the sword and was\nabout to do the deed, when I stepped between him and her. Loosing the\nveil I wore I threw it over her head, and turning, said to Tenes,\n\n\"Now, King, touch her who is hid in the veil of Isis if you dare. Of\nIsis I think you have learned something on a certain ship when the\nbreakers called for you off Carmel, yes, of Isis and her prophetess.\nKnow then that she who could save can also slay, and give you over to\nsuch dreams as came to you, Tenes, at midnight by a bed in yonder\nroom. Aye, she can slay, and swiftly. Strike then through the Veil of\nIsis and learn whether her prophetess speaks truth.\"\n\nHe looked at me; he looked at Beltis standing still and ghostlike\nbeneath the veil. Then he cast down the sword and fled.\n\nWhen he had gone I went to the door and shot its bolt. I returned, I\nlifted the veil from about that queen.\n\n\"Who and what are you?\" she asked, \"that can brave Tenes in his palace\nand save one whom he would slay, though for that I thank you not. So\nlittle do I thank you that----\" And she stooped to grasp the sword.\n\nMoving swiftly as a swallow flies, I flitted between her and it.\nBefore her fingers could touch it, I had snatched it away who\nunderstood her purpose.\n\n\"Be seated, Lady, and listen,\" I said.\n\nShe sank into a chair and, resting her head upon her hand, regarded me\nwith a cold and curious look.\n\n\"Queen,\" I went on, \"I am one whom Heaven has sent to this land to\ndestroy Tenes and the Sidonians.\"\n\n\"Then I welcome you, Stranger. Speak on.\"\n\nSo briefly I told her all my tale, and in proof of it read to her the\nwriting in which I promised myself to Tenes when he could crown me\nqueen of the world.\n\n\"So you desire my place and this man?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" I answered, \"as much, or as little, as life desires death.\nStudy the conditions. Can he crown me queen of all the earth, and\nunder them until he does so, can he take me? Do you not understand\nthat I would lead the fool on to his ruin?\"\n\nShe nodded her head.\n\n\"Then will you not help me?\"\n\n\"Aye, Lady, but how?\"\n\n\"I will show you how,\" and bending forward, I whispered in her ear.\n\n\"It is good,\" she said when I had finished. \"By Jehovah my God, and by\nthe blood of my son, with you I stand or fall, and when all is done\ntake Tenes if you will.\"\n\n\n CHAPTER X\n The Vengeance of Beltis\n\nSo it came about that this queen, whose name I learned was Elisheba\namong her own people, the Hebrews, Beltis being a title given to her\nin Sidon, and I dwelt together in the palace of Tenes. Leave me she\ndared not, nor would I suffer it who knew that then certainly she\nwould be murdered, while with me she was safe because Tenes dared not\ntouch one whom I sheltered, being afraid of me; one, moreover, over\nwhom I had placed the veil of Isis. For the rest she was glad to stay\nwith me whom soon she learned to love, especially after she had heard\nhow I pleaded for her son's life.\n\nI, too, was glad that she should do so, both because she was a\ncompanion to my loneliness and a protection, since Tenes could not\npersecute me with his passion in her presence, and because she had\nthose who loved her in Sidon, certain Hebrews through whom we learned\nmuch. Yet we were in a strange case, the queen who reigned and the\nqueen to whom her place was promised, dwelling together like sisters,\nand both sworn to destroy him who was her husband and who desired to\nbe mine.\n\nFor we made a pact together, she swearing by Jehovah and I by Isis,\nthat we would neither rest nor stay till we saw Tenes dead and his\nSidonians with him. Oh! if I hated him and these, she, the robbed\nmother, hated them worse, so deeply indeed that if only she might come\nby vengeance she cared nothing for her life. She was a fierce-natured\nwoman, such as those of the Hebrews often are, and all her heart's\nlove had been given to this boy, her only child, whom Tenes butchered\nat the bidding of the priests and because of his superstitions.\n\nFrom the beginning this Beltis or Elisheba had hated the Sidonians and\nTenes, to whom she was given in a marriage of policy by the rulers of\nJerusalem because of her beauty and her royal blood, and now to her\nthey were but as wild beasts and snakes to be destroyed. Yet she was\nclever also and played her part well, feigning sorrow for the wild\nwords she spoke in the hour of her agony and with it obedience to the\nwishes of the King. She even told him in my presence that when the\ntime came she would be willing that I should take her crown and she\nbut a second place, or if it pleased him better, that she would return\nto her own people. This, however, he did not desire, since he feared\nlest the disgrace of so great a lady should bring the wrath of\nJerusalem upon him, or even cause the Hebrews to join his enemies.\n\nSo well did she play that part, indeed, making it appear that her\nspirit was crushed and that she was one from whom there was nothing to\nfear, that soon Tenes came to believe that this was so, and in order\nto please me he suffered her to dwell on there in peace.\n\n\nNow I have to tell of the war and of the end of Sidon. First I should\nsay, however, that before he sailed for Egypt, after the _Hapi_ had\nbeen fitted with a new mast of cedar, I caused Philo to be summoned to\nthe palace by the help of those Jews who were the friends of Beltis.\nHe was brought to my presence with two merchants, disguised as one of\ntheir company, and, while Beltis made pretence to chaffer with them\nfor their costly goods, I spoke with him apart.\n\nI told him to get him to Memphis as quickly as he might, and there\nmake all ready as we had agreed, awaiting my message. How this would\nreach him, or Noot, or both of them, I did not know. It might be by\nwriting, or by messenger who would bear certain tokens, or it might be\notherwise. At least when it came he must sail at once, and arriving\noff the port of Sidon, every night after the setting of the sun and\nbefore its rising, must light a flare of green fire at his masthead,\ncausing it to burn for the fourth part of an hour, so that I might be\nsure that the ship which signalled was his and no other. Then in this\nway or in that I would find means to come aboard that vessel, and the\nrest was in the hands of the gods.\n\nThese things he vowed to do and departed safely with the merchants,\nnor did Tenes ever learn that Philo had visited the palace.\n\nMeanwhile Tenes was making mighty preparations for the war. He dug a\ntriple ditch about Sidon and heightened its walls. He hired ten\nthousand Grecian mercenaries and armed the citizens. By help of the\nGreeks he drove the Persian vanguard out of Ph\u0153nicia, and for a while\nall went well for him and Egypt. At length came the news that the vast\narmy of Ochus was rolling down on Sidon, together with three hundred\ntriremes and five hundred transports; such an army as Ph\u0153nicia had\nnever seen.\n\nOne morning Tenes came to my chamber and told of the march of Ochus,\nBeltis withdrawing herself. He was in a very evil case, for he\ntrembled and even forgot to say sweet words or to devour me with his\neyes after his fashion. I asked him why his hand shook and his lips\nwere pale, he, who as a warrior king, should be rejoicing at the\nprospect of battle. He answered because of a dream he had dreamed, in\nwhich he seemed to see himself defeated by the Persians and cast down\nliving from the wall of the city. Then he added these words:\n\n\"You, Lady, promised to show me how to conquer the world. Do so, I\npray you, for I say that my heart is afraid and I know not how I shall\nstand against Ochus.\"\n\nNow I laughed at him and answered,\n\n\"So at last you come to me for counsel, Tenes, who for days have been\nwondering for how long you would be content to take that of Mentor of\nRhodes and of the King of Cyprus. Well, what would you learn?\"\n\n\"I would learn how I may defeat the Persians, Lady, the Persians who\npour upon us like a flood through a broken wall.\"\n\n\"I do not know, Tenes. To me it seems impossible. I think that dream\nof yours is coming true, Tenes, that is----\" And I ceased.\n\n\"What, then, must I do, Lady? What is your meaning?\"\n\n\"I mean that you are mad to fight Ochus.\"\n\n\"But I am fighting Ochus.\"\n\n\"Those who have been enemies may become friends, King Tenes. Have I\nnot told you that you would be safer as the ally of Ochus than as his\nfoe? What is Egypt to you that you should destroy yourself to save\nNectanebes?\"\n\n\"Egypt may be little, Lady, but Sidon is much. The Sidonians are\npledged to this war and the hand of Ochus might be heavy on them.\"\n\nAgain I laughed and answered,\n\n\"Which is dearer to a man, his own life or those of others? Fight and\ndie if you will, O King; or make peace and perchance let others die if\nyou will, O King. They say that Ochus is generous and knows how to\nreward those who serve him.\"\n\n\"Do you mean that I should make a pact with him and betray my people?\"\nhe asked hoarsely.\n\n\"Aye, my words may be so read. Hearken. You have great ambitions. You\nwould win the world--and me. My wisdom tells me that only thus can you\nwin the world--and me. Continue this war, and very soon you will lose\nme and all that you will command of Earth shall be such small part of\nit as hides your bones. Now make your choice and trouble me no more,\nwho in truth find little joy in timid hearts that fear to take hold of\nopportunity. Therefore, follow your counsel or my own, I care not\nwhich who would be gone back to Egypt to seek a higher destiny than\nthat of consort to a conquered slave.\"\n\n\"Whatever I may lose, you I cannot lose,\" he said slowly. \"Also your\nmind is mine. This Persian is too strong for me, and on Egypt I cannot\nlean too hard lest it break beneath me. These Sidonians, also, are\nrebellious and murmur against me. I think that they would kill me if\nthey dared, who now call me Child-murderer because I gave my son in\nsacrifice to please the priests.\"\n\n\"Mayhap, King,\" I answered carelessly, \"since mobs are fickle. I\nrepeat that the wise man and he who would be great does not think of\nothers but of himself.\"\n\n\"I will consult with my General, Mentor the Greek, for he is\nfar-sighted,\" he said, and left me.\n\n\"The poison works,\" I thought to myself as I watched him go. Then I\ncalled Beltis and told her all that had passed between her lord and\nme. She listened and asked,\n\n\"Why do you lead Tenes down this road, Ayesha?\"\n\n\"Because of the pit at the end of it,\" I answered. \"Have not your\nspies told us that this Ochus is implacable? He will make a pact with\nTenes and then he will destroy him. Such at least is the counsel that\ncomes to me from Heaven, which he has angered, as I think.\"\n\n\"Then I pray that Tenes may follow it, Ayesha, so long as it hurls him\ndown to hell, and the Sidonians with him.\"\n\nAs it chanced he did, for it was of a sort that his false heart loved.\nThe rest may be told in few words. Tenes sent his minister,\nThessalion, another crafty fellow, to make a treaty with Ochus. These\nwere the terms of this treaty: That he, Tenes, should surrender Sidon\nand in payment receive the royalty of Egypt after it had been\nconquered, and of all Ph\u0153nicia also, and with it that of Cyprus.\nOchus swore these gifts to him and continued his advance. When he\nreached a certain spot, he halted. Then Tenes, as he had undertaken to\ndo, led out a hundred of the chief citizens of Sidon to a Council of\nthe States of Ph\u0153nicia, or so he said.\n\nHowbeit, presently they found themselves in the camp of Ochus who\nbutchered them to the last man, all save Tenes himself, who returned\nto Sidon with a tale of an ambush from which he had escaped.\n\nThen it was I saw that the end drew near, and in a ship, which not\nTenes, but the captains of the Sidonians sent to Nectanebes at Memphis\nto pray for more aid, I caused a faithful Jew to sail, one sworn to\nthe service of Beltis, who carried with him hidden in the hollow sole\nof his sandal a letter addressed to Noot and to Philo, praying that\nPhilo would sail at once and do all those things that had been agreed\nupon between us. Also night by night I sent out my spirit, or rather\nmy thought, to seek the spirit of Noot, as he had taught me to do, and\nit seemed to me that answers came from Noot telling me that he read my\nthought and would do those things which I desired.\n\nThe chief men of the Sidonians held a council in the great hall of the\npalace. Hidden behind curtains in a gallery of the hall, Beltis and I\nsaw and heard all that passed at this council, over which Tenes\npresided as King. Bitter was the talk of those lords, for doubts were\nabroad. They thought it very strange that Tenes alone should have\nescaped from that ambush. Yet like the liar that he was, he cozened\nthem with false tales, showing them also that the gods of the\nSidonians had preserved his life, that he in his turn might preserve\ntheirs. Yes, he said this and other things, he the knave and traitor,\nwho already plotted to destroy them all.\n\nAt this council the Sidonians took a desperate road. Day by day many\nwere escaping from the city by sea and otherwise. Already nigh a third\nof the people had gone, and among them some thousands of the best\nsoldiers, so that the captains saw that soon the great city would be\nleft with few to defend her. Therefore they came to this resolve--to\nburn all their ships so that no more could flee upon them, and to set\nwatches at the gates and round the walls with orders to slay any who\nmight attempt flight by land.\n\nFearing for his life, Tenes consented to these deeds, swearing that he\ndesired but one thing, to conquer or to die with the citizens of\nSidon.\n\nSo it came about that soon the darkness was made as light as day by\nthe flames which sprang from over a hundred vessels of war besides a\nmultitude of smaller ships, while the Sidonians, watching them burn\nfrom the roofs of their houses, beat their breasts and moaned. For now\nthey knew they were cut off and must conquer or perish.\n\nThe ships of Ochus watched the port of Sidon, though somewhat\ncarelessly because it was known to him that its harbours were empty,\nand the vast army of Ochus rolled down in countless hosts upon its\nwalls.\n\nHour by hour spies came in with terrible reports, causing the hearts\nof the Sidonians to melt with fear. For now they understood that all\nhope of victory was gone and that they were doomed, though as yet they\ndid not know that it was their king who had betrayed them.\n\nAnother council was held, at which Beltis and I watched as before, and\nthere it was agreed that the city should throw itself upon the mercy\nof Ochus. Tenes affected to protest and at last to allow himself to be\noverruled, as I, to whom he came day by day for guidance, put it into\nhis black heart to do. Heralds were sent to the camp of Ochus,\noffering to surrender upon honourable terms, and while they were\nabsent bloody sacrifices of children and others were made to Dagon and\nhis company in the Holy Place before the temple, till its pavements\nran red with blood. For thus these cruel folk hoped to propitiate\nHeaven and to win mercy from Ochus.\n\nThe heralds returned bearing the word of Ochus. He said that if five\nhundred of the chief citizens came out unarmed and made submission to\nhim, he would grant their prayer and spare Sidon; but if they did not,\nthat he would pull it stone from stone and slaughter all who lived\nwithin its walls. Also one of the Persian ambassadors who accompanied\nthem brought a secret letter for Tenes. This letter Tenes, who by now\ndid nothing without my counsel, read to me.\n\nIt was brief. This was its substance:\n\nIf he would put Sidon into his hands, Ochus swore to Tenes by his most\nsolemn Persian oaths advancement greater than he had ever dreamed; and\nto Mentor the Rhodian and the general of the Grecian and Egyptian\nMercenaries, he swore a vast sum in gold and one of the first commands\nin the Persian army. If Tenes would not do this, then Ochus proposed\nto make peace with Sidon for a while but afterward to destroy it. To\nTenes himself, however, he promised death at the hands of the\nSidonians themselves, to whom all his treachery should be revealed.\nLastly an answer was demanded without delay.\n\n\"What shall I say to Ochus, Lady?\" asked Tenes of me.\n\n\"I know not,\" I answered. \"Honour would seem to demand that you should\nlay down your life and save Sidon and her citizens, if only for a\nwhile. Yet, O King, what is honour? How will honour help you when you\nhave been torn to pieces by the maddened mob upon yonder Holy Place,\nand your spirit has gone to Baal, or wherever the spirits of those\nsacrificed to Moloch may go. Will this empty honour give you that\ngreat advancement of which the Persian speaks, which doubtless will\ncarry with it the rule of Ph\u0153nicia and of Egypt, and perchance also\nthat of the East? For Ochus being mortal, Tenes, once you have brought\nhim to his death, as I can show you how to do, who is fitter than\nyourself to fill his throne? Lastly, will death with honour bring me\nwhom you desire to your side, King Tenes? I have spoken, now judge,\"\nand lifting my veil, I sat and smiled at him.\n\n\"It is not safe,\" he said. \"All hangs on Mentor and the Greeks. Unless\nthey join in the plot the Sidonians will fight to the last with their\naid, and when they discover my traffic with Ochus they will slay me.\nAnd if I fly to Ochus and the Sidonians fight, then mayhap he will\nslay me as one who has helped him nothing. But if Mentor joins us,\nthen we can open the gates to the Persians and ourselves go out safe\nto reap our reward.\"\n\n\"There speaks a great man,\" I said, \"one who is fore-sighted, one not\ntied by petty scruples; there speaks such a one as I would take to be\nmy lord. Aye, there speaks a man fit to rule the world, to whom the\ngreat advancement the Persian promises is but the first rung in the\nladder of glorious triumph--that ladder which reaches to the very\nstars. Already these Sidonians hate you, Tenes. I saw them mutter when\nyou passed among them yesterday; aye, and one laid his hand upon his\ndagger, but another checked him, having a look in his eyes that seemed\nto say--'Not yet.' If once they learn the truth, Tenes, perchance soon\nyou also will lie on the altar of sacrifice and be cast living into\nthe fiery jaws of Dagon, where your son went before you, Tenes. Why do\nyou not send for Mentor and search his mind?\"\n\nSo Mentor was sent for, and meanwhile I gave Tenes my hand to kiss.\nYes, I even suffered this that I might fix him the more firmly on my\nhook.\n\nMentor came. He was a burly Greek, a great soldier with a keen brain\nbehind his laughing eyes; one who loved gold and wine and women, and\nfor these and high place and generalship was ready to sell his sword\nto whoever bid the most.\n\nTenes set out the matter to him very craftily and showed him the\nwriting of Ochus. He listened, then asked,\n\n\"And what does this veiled Daughter of Isis think? I remember hearing\nin Egypt where she was held the first of Oracles and named Child of\nWisdom, that her prophecies never fail to fulfil themselves.\"\n\n\"The Daughter of Isis thinks that among the Persians Mentor will grow\ntall, but that here among the Sidonians he will be felled like a\nforest tree and go to feed a mighty fire, such a fire as consumed the\nfleets of Sidon awhile ago.\"\n\nThus I answered, and when Mentor heard my words, he laughed and said\nthat he was of the same mind, which without doubt was true, for\nafterward I learned that already he had been in treaty with Ochus.\n\nSo he and Tenes struck hands upon their bargain, the most infamous\nperhaps that was ever made by men, since it gave to slaughter forty\nthousand or more who trusted to them.\n\nThus was signed the doom of an accursed people, that doom which I was\ndestined to bring upon their heads, and thus was Tenes sent down the\nroad to hell. Only Mentor prospered greatly for a while in the service\nof the Persians, and what was the end of him I do not know. After all,\nhe was but one of many who flit from master to master as advantage\nleads them. Doubtless long ago the world has forgotten him, his\nGrecian cunning, his generalship, and his treachery.\n\nThe five hundred went out to the Persian camp to plead with Ochus,\nbearing palm branches in their hands; yea, they went with light\nhearts, for Tenes had told them that certainly their prayer would be\ngranted and that he knew this from the lips of Ochus himself. Led by\nthe priesthoods of the various gods--oh! how it rejoiced me to see\nthose vile and cruel priests in that company!--they went, but not one\nof them returned again, for Ochus received them with mockeries and\nreviling, and to make sport for himself and his soldiers, told them to\nrun back to Sidon. Then he loosed his horsemen on them and slew them\nwith swords and javelins and set their heads on stakes around the\nwalls.\n\nWhen the Sidonians knew and saw, they went mad with rage and terror.\nThey gathered themselves by thousands in the Holy Place and had it not\nbeen for Mentor and his Greeks, would have stormed the palace, for now\nthey were sure that Tenes had betrayed them. Indeed Beltis had made\nthe truth of this treachery known through the Hebrews who served her.\nAlso they clamoured that I, Ayesha, should be led forth and\nsacrificed, saying that it was the presence of a priestess of Isis in\nthe city which had caused their gods to desert them. For a little\nwhile I was afraid, who remembered what had chanced upon the ship\n_Hapi_ when Tenes would have suffered me to be thrown to the deep to\nsatisfy the superstitions of the sailors. Therefore thinking it best\nto be bold, I sent for Tenes and said to him,\n\n\"If by evil chance I should be slain, O King, then know that I have it\nfrom the goddess whom I serve that you with whose lot mine is\nintertwined will die within an hour. I, Tenes, am the bright star of\nyour fortunes, and if I set, farewell to them and you.\"\n\n\"I know it,\" he answered, \"as I know that without you I can never rise\nto be king of the world. Therefore I will defend you to the last;\nalso, beauteous one, I desire you for my wife. Yet,\" he added, \"some\nmight think that this star of your wisdom has hitherto led my feet\ninto dark and evil places,\" and he looked at me doubtfully.\n\n\"Fear nothing,\" I answered. \"'Tis ever darkest before the dawn and out\nof evil arises good. Great glory awaits you, Tenes, or rather great\nglory awaits both of us. History will embalm your name, Tenes.\" But to\nmyself I thought that it was the Persians who would embalm his body,\nunless indeed they cast it to the dogs!\n\nNow every evening after sundown it was my custom to walk upon the flat\nroof of the palace and look out over the ocean which, also for reasons\nmy own, rising early, I did before the dawn. That night while I walked\nI put up my prayers to Heaven, for though I played so bold a game, its\nodds seemed to be gathering against me. Doubtless, as it deserved,\nthis hateful Sidon would fall, but when its walls were crashing down,\nwith what should I protect my head? I did not know. Yet it is true\nthat never did I lose faith. Always I knew that I was the instrument\nof that Strength which directs the fate of men and nations, that what\nI did was because I was driven and commanded so to do for reasons that\nwere dark to me; moreover, that I was not an instrument to be broken\nand thrown aside. Nay, however strait the path and however great the\nperils that beset it, I was sure that I should walk it with safety,\nbecause it was fated that I should do so, though whither it would lead\nme I could not tell in those days when I was but as other women are.\nStill I put up my prayer to Heaven and scanned the horizon with my\neyes.\n\nLo! far away beyond the lights of the watching triremes of Ochus, so\nfar that it seemed almost set upon the surface of the sea, burned a\nfaint green fire. For the fourth part of an hour it burned, and went\nout. Then I knew that my words had reached Egypt, whether in the\nwriting or by the swift path of the spirit, and that Noot or Philo had\ncome to save me.\n\nBefore the dawn once more I climbed to the roof of the palace, and\nbehold! far away again the green fire burned upon the bosom of the\ndeep, telling me that out yonder the great trireme waited for my\ncoming. Aye, but how was I to come?\n\nTenes the vile and Mentor the venal played their parts well. They\nopened the gates of the outmost wall which the Greeks held, and let in\nthe Persians whom these Greeks greeted as brothers, having at times\nserved under them in the past. The Sidonians saw and knew that the\ndice had fallen against them; knew too that they were loaded dice.\n\nThey gathered in the Holy Place and raved for the blood of Tenes who\ncowered behind a curtain and hearkened to them. Beltis and I, playing\nour parts, came to comfort him.\n\n\"Be brave!\" I said gently. \"The road to the kingship of the world is\nsteep and difficult. Yet when the peak is gained, how glorious, O\nConqueror, will be the prospect spread out before your eyes.\"\n\n\"It is steep and difficult indeed,\" he muttered, wiping his brow with\nthe fringe of his broidered robe.\n\nHad he but seen the look which Beltis cast upon him, standing behind\nhim with folded arms and humble air, perchance he would have thought\nit steeper still.\n\n\"Let us talk,\" I said, \"for the end draws near. What is your plan? How\nwill you and we, your queens, escape from this city?\"\n\n\"All is prepared,\" he answered. \"At the King's wharf, to which a\ncovered way runs from the palace, in the house where the royal boats\nare moored, is my own barge that, being thus secured, escaped burning\nwith the ships. In this barge, which is manned with Greeks to whom a\ngreat reward is promised and who wait in the boathouse day and night,\nwe will row from the harbour for a hidden bay three leagues down the\ncoast where we will land and be escorted thence to the encampment of\nthe Great King. Yet perchance it may be wiser that I should be with\nMentor to welcome Ochus when he enters to take peaceful possession of\nthe city. If so, Daughter of Isis, you will do well to leave it by\nyourself, or with the lady Beltis if she wishes to accompany you, and\nto meet me in the camp of Ochus.\"\n\n\"Perhaps that would be better,\" I answered, \"since it might not be\nthought seemly that the great King Tenes should slip away to his ally\nby night. Nay, let him rather march out as a monarch should. Only then\nwe must have authority to act as occasion may direct.\"\n\n\"Aye, Lady, take this ring,\" and slipping the royal signet from his\nfinger he gave it to me. \"It will be obeyed by all who see it;\nmoreover, I will issue certain orders. So long as we meet again at\nlast, we whose fates are intertwined, it matters not by what separate\nroads we travel.\"\n\n\"It matters not at all, my lord Tenes,\" I answered as swiftly I hid\naway the signet.\n\nIt was just then, at the hour of sunset, that Mentor entered the\nchamber. No longer was he gay and light-hearted; indeed his brows were\nbent and his eyes full of trouble.\n\n\"By Zeus!\" he said, \"a dreadful thing has happened. In their despair\nthese Sidonians of yours, King Tenes, have taken counsel together.\nThey have determined that rather than fall into the hands of Ochus,\nthey will burn the city and with it themselves and their wives and\nchildren. Yes, uttering the curse of all the gods upon you, thus they\nhave determined. Look, the fires begin!\"\n\nWe went to the window-places and gazing from them, saw desperate men\nrushing to and fro with lighted torches of cedar wood in their hands,\nwhile other men drove mobs of screaming women and children into the\nhouses, yes, and into the temples, and shut the doors upon them. Here\nand there, too, from the roofs of these houses rose wisps of smoke\nthat soon were mingled with flame. East and west and north and south,\nthrough the great city of Sidon arose that smoke and flame. Everywhere\nalso mobs of the people whose courage failed them and who did not\ndesire to die thus were rushing toward the gates and into the camp of\nthe Greeks. In this fashion, I believe, that from ten to twenty\nthousand of the inhabitants of Sidon escaped, though afterward Ochus\nthe cruel slew many of them and enslaved the rest.\n\nI looked, I saw, and my heart melted within me. Hateful as were these\ninsolent, bloodstained folk, I grieved that I should have had any hand\nin bringing their reward upon them. After all, they were brave and\nwould have fought to the end, who now made expiation by a great\nself-sacrifice, which was also brave. Oh! if I could I would have\nlifted that doom from off them. Then I remembered that it was not I\nwho did these things, but Fate which made of me its instrument;\nremembered also that only thus could I escape the foul hands of Tenes.\n\nI turned to look upon that traitor. He trembled, and trembling tried\nto seem brave; he laughed, and in the midst of his laughter burst into\ntears.\n\n\"Behold the fate of those who would have slain their king! Truly the\ngods are just,\" he said. \"Now let us fly to the great Ochus and\nreceive from him his royal welcome and reward. Truly the gods are\njust!\"\n\nHe turned about seeking for Mentor, but Mentor had gone. There\nremained in that chamber only Beltis the Queen, he, and I, Ayesha.\nBeltis glided to the door and made it fast. Then she came to Tenes and\nbefore he guessed her purpose, snatched the gold-hilted sword from his\nbelt. She stood before him with fierce white face and blazing eyes.\n\n\"Truly the gods are just,\" she repeated in a low and terrible voice.\n\"Fool, do you not know what welcome Ochus will give you yonder and\nwhat rewards? Hearken! That false Greek, Mentor, told me of these but\nnow, or pitying my lot, he offered me his love and to take me to\nsafety. After I had refused him, he went his way while you stared from\nthe window-place.\"\n\n\"What words are these, Woman?\" gasped Tenes. \"Ochus is my ally; Ochus\nwill greet me well who have served him well. Let us be going.\"\n\n\"Ochus will greet you thus, O Tenes; I have it from the mouth of\nMentor who has it from Ochus himself. Slowly he will cause you, a\nking, to be beaten to death with rods, which is the fate the Persians\ngive to slaves and traitors. Then he will stuff your body with spices\nand tie it to the masthead of his ship, that when presently he sails\nfor Egypt it may be a warning to Nectanebes the Pharaoh whom also you\nhave betrayed.\"\n\n\"It is a lie, it is a lie!\" shouted Tenes. \"Daughter of Isis, tell\nthis mad woman that it is a lie.\"\n\nI stood still, answering nothing, and Beltis went on,\n\n\"Tenes, Fate is upon you. Will you meet it less bravely than the\nmeanest of the thousands of this people whom you have given to doom?\nTake my last counsel and leap from yonder window, that you who have\nlived a coward and a traitor may at least die a man.\"\n\nHe gnashed his teeth, he stared about him. He even went to the\nwindow-place and looked out as though he would brave the deed.\n\n\"I dare not,\" he muttered, \"I dare not. The gods are just; they will\nsave me who sacrificed my son to them.\"\n\nThen he knelt down in the window-place and began to pray to Moloch\nwhose brazen image showed redly in the gathering gloom.\n\n\"Take your sword, Tenes, if you dare not leap, and make an end,\" said\nthe cold voice of the fierce-faced Hebrew lady who stood behind him,\nwhilst I, Ayesha, watched all this play as a spirit might that is afar\nfrom the affairs of earth, wondering how it would end.\n\nBut Tenes only answered,\n\n\"Nay, sharp steel is worse than steep air. I would live, not die. The\ngods are just, the gods are just!\"\n\nThen he went on praying to Moloch.\n\nQueen Beltis grasped the handle of the short sword with both her hands\nand with all her strength drove it down between the broad shoulders of\nTenes.\n\n\"Aye, dog of a Sidonian,\" she cried, \"the gods are very just, or at\nthe least my God is just, and here--child-slayer--is the justice!\"\n\nTenes screamed aloud, then struggled to his feet and stood striking at\nthe air, the short sword still fixed in his back, a dreadful sight to\nbehold.\n\n\"Would you murder me, Jewess?\" he babbled, and staggered after her,\nstill beating at the air with his clenched fist.\n\n\"Nay,\" she answered, ever retreating before him, \"I would but give you\nyour due, or some of it. Go, garner the rest in Gehenna's deep, O\nbutcher of children and traitor blacker than the world has ever seen.\nDie, hound! Die, lurking jackal who would have mumbled the bones of\ngreatness left by the full-fed Persian lion. Die, slaughterer of the\nson that sprang from us, and go meet his spirit in the world below,\ntelling him that Elisheba his mother, a woman of the royal house of\nIsrael, the Queen whom you had rejected, sent you thither. Die, while\nthe city, the great City of the Seas, burns with the fires that your\ntreachery has lighted and the cries of its tortured citizens ring in\nyour ears. Pass with them to Gehenna and there strike your account,\nhaving their fire-shrivelled souls for witnesses and Moloch and Baal\nand Ashtoreth for judges and for company. Die, dog, die! and while\nyour brain darkens, remember to the last that it was Elisheba, the\nrobbed mother, who gave you to drink of the cup of death.\"\n\nSo she reviled, ever flitting before him, while he staggered slowly\nafter her round the great chamber. At length he could no more and fell\nat my feet, grasping my robe,\n\n\"Daughter of Isis,\" he babbled, \"whom I desired and would have made my\nqueen, save me! Is this the great advancement that you swore to me?\"\n\n\"Aye, mighty Tenes,\" I answered, \"since death is the greatest of all\nadvancements. In death be king of Ph\u0153nicia, of Egypt and of the East,\nsince surely there you will stand above all thrones, powers, and\ndominions. In death all things will be yours, O traitor Tenes, who\nwould have done violence to the daughter of Isis, everything save\nAyesha's self, who here bids you farewell, vile Tenes.\"\n\n\nThen, wailing and moaning, he died, and thus robbed Ochus of his\nvengeance upon a tool of which he had no further need.\n\n\n CHAPTER XI\n The Escape from Sidon\n\nAll was over and done. Within that royal chamber was silence, though\nwithout the flames roared and the cries of the Sidonians went up to\nHeaven. I, Ayesha, and Beltis the Queen, faced each other in the gloom\nand between us lay the body of Tenes, on whose white, distorted face\nflickered the light of the fires that burned without.\n\n\"What now, Queen?\" I said.\n\n\"Death, I think,\" she answered in a quiet voice, for all her rage\nseemed to have left her. \"Why cheat his jaws of their richest morsel?\"\n\n\"I have still work to do, my hour has not yet come, Queen.\"\n\n\"Aye, I forgot. Follow me, Daughter of Isis; Beltis does not forsake\nthose who have served her. Look your last upon this carrion that hoped\nto call you wife, and follow me.\"\n\nAs we passed from that chamber I glanced through the window and saw\nthat, although darkness now had fallen, the Holy Place beneath was\nbright as noon with the flames of the burning temple, and that in them\nthe vast graven image of Moloch glowed as it had done upon the day of\nsacrifice when the child of Beltis was swallowed in its red-hot jaws.\nThere it sat hideous; grinning as though in unholy triumph over this\ngreatest of all sacrifices.\n\nThen suddenly a pinnacle from the temple fell upon it, grinding it to\npowder. This was the end of Moloch, since, although Sidon, as I have\nlearned, was rebuilt in the after years, never more was sacrifice made\nto that devil within its walls. This at least I, Ayesha, brought to\npass--the end of the worship of Moloch at Sidon.\n\nWe passed through my sleeping-chamber, and as we went I seized the\ncabinet of priceless gems that Tenes from time to time had heaped upon\nme, since these were sworn to Isis and no goddess loves to be robbed\nof her offerings. At the back of the chamber was a passage leading to\na door by which a lighted lamp had been set in readiness. At this door\nstood a man whom I knew for one of the Jewish servants sworn to the\nservice of Beltis.\n\n\"You are late, royal Lady,\" he exclaimed. \"So late that I was about to\nflee, for look, the palace burns beneath us,\" and he pointed to little\nwreaths of smoke that forced themselves up between the boards of the\nflooring of the bedchamber that we had passed.\n\n\"Late, but not too late,\" she answered. \"The King detained us and has\ngone another way. You have his orders and here is his ring,\" and she\npointed to the royal signet upon my hand. \"Obey it and lead on.\"\n\nThe man held up the lantern and glanced at the ring. Then he bowed and\nbeckoned to us to follow him.\n\nWe went down passages, long passages with many turnings, and at length\ncame to another door which he opened with a key. Passing it, we found\nourselves in a vaulted place beneath which was water, where floated\nthe royal barge, the same in which I had been rowed to the shore of\nSidon. Oarsmen sat waiting within this barge, and guarding it were two\nGrecian soldiers, who commanded us to halt.\n\n\"This boat awaits King Tenes,\" said one of them, \"and none else may\nenter it.\"\n\n\"I am the Queen,\" answered Beltis.\n\n\"With whom I hear the King has quarrelled,\" broke in the Greek with a\nsneer. \"Queen or no, Lady, you cannot enter that boat without the\nKing, or an order under his signet.\"\n\nThen I held up my hand, saying,\n\n\"Here is the signet itself. Let us pass.\"\n\nHe stared at it by the light of the lamp, then said something to the\nother Greek and very doubtfully they obeyed. It was certain that these\nguards standing in that vaulted place did not know what was passing in\nthe city. Moreover, I think it had come into their minds to rob us, or\nworse. At the least this is sure, that unless we could have killed\nthose two Greeks, without the signet never should we have won to the\nboat.\n\nWe went on twelve paces or so and reached the barge, which was manned\nwith sailors who wore the uniform of the King's bodyguard, men who\nknew the Queen and saluted her by raising their oars. Beltis motioned\nfirst to me and afterward to the Jew who had been our guide from the\npalace, to enter the barge, then suddenly she said to the steersman\nwho commanded the sailors,\n\n\"Go now whither this lady shall direct you, and know that if harm\ncomes to her your lives shall pay the price of it, for she is no\nwoman, but a goddess whom Death obeys.\"\n\nNow I stared at her and asked,\n\n\"Do you not come also, Queen Beltis?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" she whispered. \"I choose another road to safety. Fear not for\nme, I will tell you all when we meet again. For a while farewell,\nChild of Wisdom and my friend. May the gods with whom you commune be\nyour shield upon earth and receive you when you leave the earth, you\nwho strove to save a certain one and cast your mantle over Beltis when\na sword that now is set in another's heart was at her own. Give way,\nsailors,\" she cried, \"and if you would look once more upon the sun,\nobey.\"\n\nThen with her own hands she thrust at the stern of the boat, causing\nit to move into the channel. Next moment Beltis had shrunk back into\nthe darkness and was gone.\n\nNow I would have returned to seek for her, but the Jew at my side\ncalled out,\n\n\"Give way! Give way and question not the word of the Queen who\ndoubtless has work elsewhere. Be swift; doom is behind you.\"\n\nFor a moment they hesitated, then bent them to their oars while I\nwondered what might be the meaning of the part that Beltis played. Did\nshe perchance plan some trap for me? I did not know, but this I knew,\nthat behind was the burning city, whereas in front lay the open sea.\nWhatever its perils I would face the sea, trusting to destiny to be my\nguide. As for Beltis, doubtless she took some other road to freedom.\nMayhap after all she would shelter with Mentor, or Ochus had promised\nher deliverance in payment for the blood of Tenes.\n\nSo I sat silent, and presently the channel took a turn; the swinging\nwater-gates that hid its mouth were thrust open with an oar by a man\nwho stood at the barge's prow, and we passed into the southern\nharbour.\n\nYes, out of the darkness we passed into a blaze of light, and out of\nthe silence into a hideous tumult of sound. For all around us the city\nburned furiously and from it rose one horrible wail of woe.\n\nThe rowers saw and understood who until now had known nothing in the\nsilence of the secret harbour cave. They hung upon their oars. Then\nthey brought round the barge's prow seeking to return into the cave,\nbut could not because those doors had swung to behind them and, having\nlocked themselves by some device, could only be opened from within.\nNor indeed could I tell where these were since they seemed to form\npart of the harbour wall.\n\nThe helmsman looked back and from side to side at the hell of fire\nwhich raged behind and around him. He looked at the jutting pier upon\nour right and noted that already its timbers were ablaze. Then he\nlooked in front and cried,\n\n\"Now I see why the Queen left us! Well, there is but one chance.\nOnward to the open sea.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" I echoed, \"onward to the open sea. Here you must die; there I\nwill lead you to safety. I swear it by the Queen of Heaven.\"\n\n\"'Tis well to talk,\" said one, \"but how shall we gain the sea? Look,\nthe Persians are barring the harbour mouth and slaying those who\nstrive to escape.\"\n\nIt was true. Many of the miserable inhabitants of Sidon had found\nboats of this sort or of that, or even were swimming upon logs or\nbarrels. For these the Persians or those in their pay waited at the\nmouth of the harbour and with mocking words and laughter butchered\nthem as they came. Yes, from their smaller ships they slew them with\nspears and arrows or by throwing stones that drove out the bottoms of\nthe boats.\n\n\"Keep in the shadow of the jetty,\" I said, \"where the wind-driven\nsmoke hangs thick and near which the triremes dare not come because of\nthe rocks whereon it is built, and row, row fast.\"\n\nThey heard and obeyed. On we went beneath an arching canopy of smoke\nlaced with bursts of flame from the kindling timbers, till at length\nwe reached the head of the jetty on which stood a wooden tower where a\nlight burned at night to be a guide to mariners entering the harbour.\nHere we waited a while, clinging to one of the piers, for although the\nwind was rising, in this sheltered place the sea remained calm.\n\nRowing across the head of the jetty was a Persian trireme, and until\nshe had gone by we dared not attempt the sea. At length she passed,\nleisurely, and our chance came. At a muttered word the oarsmen gave\nway with all their strength and we shot clear of the mole into the\nopen deep. As we did so, I looked back and perceived behind and above\nme a sight that after more than two thousand years still haunts me in\nmy sleep.\n\nUpon the end of this timber-crested mole, as I have said, there was a\nwooden tower from which in times of peace a beacon burned. Now this\ntower was blazing like the pierway behind it and no beacon shone\nthere. Only where it should be stood a woman on whose face the strong\nlight beat, since the wind swept away the smoke and revealed her like\na statue on a column that rises above mist. I looked at this shape and\nthis face and saw that they were those of Beltis the Queen of Sidon.\nHow she had come there, I do not know, but I think that she had run\nalong the burning mole before it was too late, being well acquainted\nwith the path, and had climbed the stairway of the tower, that from\nits crest she might look her last upon Sidon and on life.\n\nThere at least she stood, royal-looking, silent, with her arms crossed\nupon her breast, while the purple cloak that marked her rank floated\nbehind her like a banner on the breeze.\n\nShe saw the barge that bore us shoot out of the gloom and reek into\nthe deep sea. I know that she saw because she stretched out her arm as\nthough to bless us. Then she turned and lifted her hands toward the\nburning city as though to curse it. Lastly, once more she folded her\narms upon her breast and stood motionless, her white face raised to\nthe heavens.\n\nThus she remained while one might count an hundred, till suddenly the\ntimbers of the tower, gnawed through by the flames, fell in and she\nvanished in a roaring gulf of fire.\n\nSuch was the end of that great and ill-fated woman, the royal Beltis,\nQueen of Sidon, whom, mayhap in expiation of sin done in another star,\nthe gods gave to the arms of perchance the vilest man that ever lived\nupon the earth. Greatly she died, a sacrifice, as her son had been a\nsacrifice, but not before she had wrought a fitting vengeance upon the\nmurderer of her child and the betrayer of his people. Moloch, god of\nfire, took her as he took them all, but now she was beyond the reach\nof Moloch, Moloch who was but molten metal, an offering to himself.\n\nIn the great flame of the fallen tower the trireme that bore the\nbanner of Ochus saw our boat escaping out to sea and put about to\npursue it.\n\n\"Row on!\" I cried, \"row into the darkness,\" and knowing that their\nlives hung on the issue, since, as we had already seen, the Persians\nspared none whom they overtook in the boats but drove the triremes\nover them, shooting any who swam with arrows, those sailors rowed\nsturdily. Yet our progress was but slow and that of the three-banked\nship behind us fast; moreover, the fires of burning Sidon lit up the\nsea for miles.\n\nCould we reach the darkness before we were overtaken? We came to its\nedge with the great trireme not a hundred paces from our stern--so\nnear indeed that the soldiers on board of her began to shoot at us,\nthough in the gathering gloom and because of the rolling platform on\nwhich they stood, their shafts went wide. She was right upon us; her\nhull had vanished in the shadows but the light from the fires still\ngleamed upon her gilded masthead, while her great oars beat the sea\nwith a sound like thunder.\n\n\"Put about,\" I cried, \"or she will sink us.\"\n\nVery skilfully the steersman obeyed so that we doubled like a hunted\nhare and the Persian shot past us. Then once more we turned and rowed\non into the night. When it wrapped us round, the sailors, exhausted,\nrested on their oars. Again we heard the thunder of the great\nslave-manned sweeps, and again the brazen prow of the tall ship,\ncruel, enormous, hung almost over us. Only by an ell or two did the\nbroad blades of the oars miss us, the eddies that they made causing\nour little craft to rock dangerously. But this time that huge\nsea-hound was blinded by the darkness and not seeing us, nor hearing\nanything, for we sat silent as the grave, she rushed upon her way, and\nfor a time we saw her no more.\n\nAll was quiet upon the breast of ocean. Far off burned Sidon like a\ngigantic beacon fire, but there came to us no whisper of her agony.\nYes, all was quiet, save for the sighing of the night wind that, to my\nstrange fancy, seemed like to such a sound as might be made by the\nrush of ten thousand spirits passing from the cruel earth upward to\nthe peace above. Slowly the wearied oarsmen drove the boat still\nfarther out to sea; then their captain said,\n\n\"Whither away, Lady? It is in my mind to change our course and run for\nthe coast northward, where perchance there are no Persians.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" I answered, \"we stay where we are, I search for a ship.\"\n\n\"Mayhap we shall find one,\" he said with a hoarse laugh, \"a ship of\nthe fleet of Ochus.\"\n\nThey began to dispute as to what course they should take.\n\n\"Obey me,\" I said, \"or obey me not, as you will. Only then I, who have\nthe counsel of the gods, tell you that save I only, by sunrise\nto-morrow everyone of you will be dead.\"\n\nThey whispered together, for my words frightened them. At length the\ncaptain spoke, saying,\n\n\"The great Queen Beltis who is gone told us that this woman is a\ngoddess and that what she commanded, that we must do. Let us remember\nthe words of the great Queen Beltis who is dead and doubtless watches\nus from the sky.\"\n\nSo this danger passed also, and all that night we floated, keeping the\nboat's stern to burning Sidon while the most of the oarsmen slept in\ntheir places. So weary were they that not even the horror behind them\nand the loss of their kinsfolk, or even their own fears, could hold\nthem back from sleep.\n\nBut I, Ayesha, did not sleep; nay, I watched and thought. If Philo had\nfled away, or if his ship had been sunk, what then? Then all was\nfinished. Nay, not so, since it could not be that I should die with\nbut half my task accomplished. I was friendless among strange men, yet\nin my breast there dwelt the greatest of friends, that spirit whose\nname is Fate. I threw out my soul to my master Noot the Seer, and lo!\nit seemed to me that his soul answered, saying,\n\n\"Fear nothing, Daughter of Isis, for the wings of Isis shadow thee.\"\n\nIt drew near to the dawn; I knew it by the stars which I was wont to\nwatch and by the smell of the air. I rose in my seat and stared into\nthe darkness. Behold! not four furlongs from our prow suddenly there\nsprang into life a fire of green flame.\n\n\"Awake,\" I cried, \"and row on swiftly, for if you would live you must\nreach the ship upon which yonder fire burns before the breaking of\ndawn.\"\n\nThey obeyed, wondering, who knew not what this fire might mean. We\nsped forward, and as the first light gleamed saw almost above us the\nbulk of the great trireme named _Hapi_.\n\n\"Hail her!\" I cried, and the captain did so. One appeared by her\nbulwark rail, holding a lantern. Its light shone upon his face and I\nsaw that it was that of Philo the Greek.\n\n\"Ye are saved,\" I said quietly, \"for yonder is the vessel that awaits\nme.\"\n\n\"Of a truth this is a goddess!\" muttered the captain of the barge.\n\nNow Philo saw us in the growing light, and cried to us to come\nswiftly, pointing to something which he could discover but we could\nnot. We were alongside, eager hands dragged us from the boat. We were\naboard, I still carrying the casket of jewels though at the time I did\nnot know I held it fast. Philo bowed the knee to me as to one divine,\nat which our oarsmen stared. Then he shouted a command and again\npointed behind us.\n\nLo! there, scarce two bowshots away, was the great Persian ship which\nwe had escaped in the gloom of the night.\n\nOur oars struck the water, we leapt forward like an unleashed hound,\nand after us came the trireme like a lion springing on the hound.\nTrireme have I called her? Nay, as we saw now, she was a quinquereme,\none of the new five-banked ships built by Ochus, a mighty monster. For\na little while she hesitated as though wondering whether to attack or\nlet us be. Then as the light strengthened the eyes of her watchmen\ncaught sight of our abandoned boat and by its gilding and emblems knew\nit for the royal barge of Tenes.\n\nA great shout arose, a shout of\n\n\"The King escapes. The King and Queen Beltis escape. After them!\"\n\nThen the quinquereme leapt forward in pursuit. Because of her bulk she\nwas slow in gathering speed and we who had the start of her drew away\nquickly, especially after a shift of wind which seemed to miss the\n_Holy Fire_, for so Philo, who knew her, said the Persian was named,\nfilled our great sail.\n\nSeeing this and hoping that our danger was past, I went to that same\ncabin which had been mine when as the captive of Tenes I sailed upon\nthis ship, which seemed to be just as I had left it. This I did\nwithout speech to Philo, save a word to commend to his care the Jew\nand those others who had been my companions upon the barge.\n\nFor now that all was over, it seemed to me as though I must rest or\ndie; moreover, I was foul with travel and needed food. This indeed I\nfound ready upon a table which caused me to wonder, though dully,\nwhich I did even more when I saw clean woman's garments such as I was\naccustomed to use spread out upon the cabin couch. So I cleansed and\nclothed myself and ate a little, drinking some wine, which I did\nrarely, then lay down upon the couch and for a space, an hour perhaps,\nslept as though I were dead.\n\nI woke, I knew not why who could have slumbered on for hours, yet\nfeeling as though the most of my weariness had rolled off me. The\nplace was very dim for the curtained door was shut and at first I\ncould see nothing. Presently, however, I became aware that I was not\nalone in the cabin. For as my eyes grew accustomed to such light as\nreached it, I discovered the shape of a man, an old, white-bearded\nman, kneeling at its far end as though in prayer, and wondered whether\nI dreamed, for what could such a one be doing there? Soon indeed I was\nsure that I dreamed, since this shape was that of the high-priest\nNoot, my Master, whom I supposed to be far away in Egypt. Or perchance\nNoot was dead and this was his spirit that visited me in my sleep.\nSpirit or dream or man, words came from the lips of that vision spoken\nin the very voice of Noot; such words as these,\n\n\"O Mother Isis, and Thou without a name whom Isis and all the gods\nserve and obey, I thank ye that ye have been pleased to bring this\nmaiden in safety through her appointed tasks, throwing over her the\nshield of a strength divine. I thank ye that ye have led her back to\nme, her father in the spirit, that defilement has not touched her,\nthat fire has not burned her, that water has not drowned her, and that\nthe foeman's spears have not pierced her heart. I pray ye, O Mother\nIsis and O Thou without a name in the hollow of whose hand lie the\nworld and all that live thereon, that as has been the beginning, so\nmay be the end, and that this chosen woman may return safe to whence\nshe came, there to accomplish those tasks that she was created to\nfulfil.\"\n\nThus that voice prayed on, the holy, well-remembered voice, till at\nlength I brought its supplications to an end, saying,\n\n\"Tell me, Noot my father, why do you still fear in this hour of\ndeliverance?\"\n\nHe rose, he came to me, and drawing aside a curtain on a little\nwindow-place, scanned me with kind and gentle eyes. Then he took my\noutstretched hand, kissed it, and answered,\n\n\"Alas! there is still much to fear, O my daughter, but of that you\nshall learn presently. First tell me the story of what has chanced to\nyou since we parted.\"\n\nBriefly, omitting much, I told him that tale.\n\n\"It is as my spirit showed me,\" he said when I had finished. \"Heaven\nhas not deceived its servant. Your messenger reached us, Daughter, but\nhad he died upon the road it would have mattered little, since long\nere he had set foot in Egypt my soul had heard your soul and made all\nthings ready. Yet last night, when Sidon burned, I confess that my\nfaith failed me and this soul of mine shook with fear. Indeed an hour\nafter sunset I thought that your ghost passed me, crying that all was\ndone.\"\n\n\"Perchance it was the ghost of Beltis that passed. But of these things\nwe will talk afterward. I see fear in your eyes. Of what are you\nafraid?\"\n\n\"Rise and look through that window-place, Daughter.\"\n\nI did so and behold! but a little distance away the great quinquereme\nnamed the _Holy Fire_ sped upon our track, so fast that her five banks\nof oars lashed the sea to foam.\n\n\"Father divine,\" said a voice without, a voice that I seemed to know,\n\"I have words to say.\"\n\n\"Enter and speak,\" answered Noot.\n\nThe door was opened and the curtain drawn, admitting a rush of\nsunlight. Lo! there before me stood a warrior clad in such armour as\nthe Greeks wear and, thus attired, the most beautiful and\nglorious-looking man that ever my eyes beheld.\n\nIt was _Kallikrates, Kallikrates himself_, only now in place of the\npriest's robe his great form was clad in bronze; in place of a chaplet\na helm was on his head and in place of the _sistrum_ his hand gripped\na sword hilt. Yes, it was Kallikrates, he whose lips in past days had\nmet mine in the holy shrine, but as he had been before he had vowed\nhimself to Isis because of a certain crime. For now again he was a man\nand a captain of men, not one who with bent brows and humble mien from\nhour to hour mutters prayers to an unseen divinity.\n\nOh! I will tell truth. When I saw him thus I liked him well. Yes,\nthough for long he had been nothing to me save a fellow servant of the\ngoddess, once more I was thrilled with a cup of that same wine which I\nhad seemed to drink when our lips met far away in Egypt; once again\nthat fire which I had stamped to ashes beneath my feet sprang to life\nand scorched my heart.\n\nMayhap it was his beauty, as great perhaps as that of any man who ever\nlived, or mayhap it was the light of battle that shone in his gray\neyes which thus stirred the woman in me. At least I who had sickened\nat the sight of Tenes and all other men, I who had given myself to\nhigher things and, rejecting the flesh, followed the spirit only, was\nstirred like any common maid who finds her lover at the moonrise.\nMoreover, Noot, who could read hearts and above all my heart, noted it\nfor I saw him smile and heard him sigh.\n\nPerchance Kallikrates also noted something, for the colour came to his\nbrow--I saw it redden beneath the plumed helm of bronze, and he\ndropped those bold and beautiful eyes. More, he sank upon his knee,\nsaluting me with the secret sign and saying,\n\n\"Pardon, Child of Wisdom, High-priestess of the Queen of Heaven, that\nonce again, if only for a little while, I have put on the harness\nwhich I used to wear. It is done to save you, Child of Wisdom. It is\ndone by command.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Noot, \"it is the command of Her we serve that this priest\nshould lift sword on behalf of Her and us, her slaves.\"\n\nI bowed my head, but answered--naught.\n\n\n CHAPTER XII\n The Sea Battle\n\nThe great Persian ship was on us. Strive as we would, we could not\nescape her. She raced upon our beam not a spear's cast away. I stood\nupon the high poop of the _Hapi_ and saw it all, for the old Arab\nblood was on fire in me, as it had been when I charged in the battle\nwhere my father fell, and I would play no woman's part. Moreover, my\nspirit told me that I had not escaped from the hands of Tenes and out\nof the burning hell of Sidon, to die there upon the sea.\n\nStanding thus upon the poop by the side of Philo the cunning captain,\nI noted this strange thing, that no arrow was shot and no spear thrown\nfrom the Persian's decks. She raced alongside of us, that was all. I\nlooked at Philo, a question in my eyes, and he answered the question\nbriefly between his set lips.\n\n\"They think the King and Queen are aboard and would take us living.\nHark! They shout to us to surrender.\"\n\nAgain I looked at him, wondering what he would do.\n\nHe issued an order and presently our speed slackened so that we fell a\nlittle behind the Persian. He issued another order and we leapt\nforward again under a changed helm. Now I saw that he was minded to\nram the _Holy Fire_. The Persian saw it also and sheered off. We ran\nalongside of her, shipping our oars as we came on that side which was\nnearest to her. But the Persian had no time to ship hers. Our sharp\nprow caught her fivefold line of sweeps, smashing the most of them as\nthough they were but twigs, and casting the rowers in a broken,\ntumbled heap within her deep hold.\n\n\"That was worthy of Philo,\" I said, but he, ever a humble man, as are\nall masters of their trade, shook his head and answered,\n\n\"Nay, Lady, I missed my mark and now we must pay for it. Ah! I thought\nso.\"\n\nAs he spoke, from sundry places on the _Holy Fire_ grapnels flew out\nwhich caught in the rails, ropes and rowing benches of the _Hapi_,\nbinding the two ships together.\n\n\"They are about to board us,\" said Philo. \"Now, Lady, pray to Mother\nIsis to give us aid.\"\n\nThen he blew two blasts upon his whistle. Instantly rose up upon our\ndeck a band of men, nigh a hundred of them, perhaps, clad in armour\nand captained by the Greek, Kallikrates. Also behind these I saw the\ncrew of the royal barge, armed with such weapons as they could find,\nand the sailors of the _Hapi_.\n\nThe Persians thrust out boards or ladders from one ship to the other,\nacross which their boarders, most of them Greeks, came on in swarms.\nThe fighting began and it was very fierce. Our men cut down many of\nthe foe and drowned others by casting off the boards and ladders, so\nthat those on them fell into the sea. Still a great number of them won\non board of us, and oh! fierce was that fray. Always in the thickest\nof it I saw Kallikrates towering a head above the others, and who now\nwould have dreamed that he was a priest of Isis? For he smote and\nsmote and man after man went down before him, while as his sword rose\nand fell he shouted out some old Greek battle cry, such as once his\nfathers used.\n\nOn a space of deck ringed round with dead and dying, he came face to\nface with the captain of the boarders, a great and burly man, also, as\nI think, a Greek. They fought terribly, whilst others paused to watch\nthat fray which Homer might have sung. Kallikrates was down and my\nheart stood still. Nay, he was up again but his bronze sword had\nbroken on the foemen's mail.\n\nThat foeman had an axe; he swung it up to make an end. Kallikrates,\nrushing beneath it, seized him in his arms and they wrestled there\nupon the slippery deck. The ship lurched; together they staggered to\nthe bulwarks. The foeman loosed one arm and drew a dagger; with it he\nsmote Kallikrates again and again. Kallikrates bent, and with his\nfreed hand seized the man beneath the knee. By a mighty effort he\nlifted him to the bulwark's edge and there they clung awhile. Then\nKallikrates with that same freed hand smote the other on the brow.\nThrice he smote and his blows were as those of a hammer falling on an\nanvil.\n\nThe grip of the captain of the boarders loosened and his head hung\nback. Once more Kallikrates smote and behold! his foe rolled down and\nwas crushed to powder between the swelling sides of the two great\nships as they ground one against the other, while the servants of Isis\ncheered and the sullen Persian hordes gave back.\n\nI caught sight of Philo thrusting his way along the bulwarks. He held\nan axe in his hand but he was not fighting. Nay, he avoided those who\nfought. Once indeed he stood still and gave an order, noting, as I had\ndone, that of a sudden the wind had begun to blow. Certain sailors who\nheard this order ran to the mast and I saw the great sail rising\nslowly.\n\nMeanwhile Philo slipped along those bulwarks, taking cover beneath\nthem like a jackal beneath a wall. But whenever he came to one of the\ngrapnels he stopped and smote with his axe, severing the rope that\nheld it. Three of them did he sever thus, so that the prows of the\nvessels swung apart.\n\nNow the great sail was up and filled. The _Hapi_ forged ahead,\ndragging round the stern of the _Holy Fire_ by those grapnels that\nremained. The Persians understood and grew frightened. Those who were\nstill alive upon our decks rushed to the planks and ladders, but few\ngained them, for Kallikrates and the men of Isis were on their heels.\nThey were cut down; they fell from the sliding planks and ladders, or\nthey leapt into the sea and for the most part drowned there. Very soon\nnot one of them was left upon our deck.\n\nThe grapnels were torn away, or the ropes broke. We were free. Yet the\nPersian was not beaten, for she was full of men of whom those who had\nbeen killed were but a tithe.\n\nShe, too, hoisted her sail and thrust out fresh sweeps to continue the\npursuit. Her captain, standing on her prow, roared out,\n\n\"Dogs of Egyptians, I'll hang you yet.\"\n\nPhilo heard and took up his bow. Now we were sweeping across the bow\nof the _Holy Fire_; mayhap it was a hundred paces away. Philo aimed\nand shot. So truly did he shoot that his arrow struck the Persian\ncaptain beneath his helm and down he went.\n\nHis fall seemed to bewilder the crew of the _Holy Fire_. They hung\nupon their oars shouting at each other, as though they knew not what\nto do. Then their sail began to rise and I saw that they were putting\nabout.\n\nPhilo at my side laughed, a hard little laugh.\n\n\"Mother Isis is good to us,\" he said. \"See, the hunter has become the\nhunted!\"\n\nThen he gave orders and we came round so that our great sail taken\naback flapped against the mast.\n\n\"Down with the sail and row,\" he shouted, \"row as never ye rowed\nbefore!\"\n\nThose at the sweeps obeyed. Oh! it was splendid to see them bending\ntheir broad backs and tugging at the oars till these also bent like\nbows in the water. Here was no slave work, for they were servants of\nIsis and free men, every one of them. Philo rushed to the steering\ngear and with the aid of another man took charge of it himself. We\nleapt forward like a panther on its prey. The _Holy Fire_ saw and\nstrove to escape. Too late, too late! For presently the sharp prow of\nthe _Hapi_ crashed into her side with such a shock that all who stood\nupon the deck were thrown down, I among them. I struggled to my feet\nagain and heard Philo screaming,\n\n\"Back water! Back! lest she take us with her.\"\n\nWe backed. Slowly the prow appeared again from where it was buried\nthree paces deep in the foeman's flank.\n\nThe _Holy Fire_ reeled over; the water rushed in through the gap.\nCrippled and helpless she wallowed; aye, she began to sink. From her\nswarming decks went up a yell of terror and dismay. Still the water\nrushed in with an ever-gathering flood and still she sank and sank.\nMen threw up their arms, praying for mercy; men sprang into the sea.\nThen suddenly the _Holy Fire_ reared her glittering prow into the air\nand stern foremost vanished into the deep. It was finished!\n\nThe Persians swam about us, or clung to wreckage, praying to be taken\naboard. But we rowed on coming to the wind again. I know not how it is\nin the world to-day, but then in time of war there was little mercy.\nEgypt alone was merciful because age had mellowed her and because of\nher gentle worship of her gentle gods. But now Egypt was fighting for\nher life against the Persian. So we rowed on, and those barbarians\nwere abandoned to drown and in the world below seek the warmth of the\nFire they worshipped.\n\nPhilo left the helm and came to where I stood. I noted that he was\nwhite and shaken and called to one to bring him wine. He drank of it\nthankfully, not forgetting first to pour a libation at my feet, or\nrather at those of the goddess to whom I was so near.\n\n\"Bravely done!\" I said. \"You understand your trade, Philo.\"\n\n\"Not so ill, Lady, though it might have been better. Had I been at the\nhelm we should have rammed that swarming hulk before the boarding and\nsaved some lives. Well, Set has her now and Ochus lacks his finest\nship.\"\n\n\"It might have been far otherwise,\" I said.\n\n\"Aye, Lady. Had I commanded the _Holy Fire_ it would have been\notherwise, for she had two oars and three men to our one, but her\ncaptain was wanting in sea-craft, and when my arrow found him, there\nwas none to take his place. They should have swept us with their\nboarders, but that tall Greek captain called Kallikrates, who they\ntell me was once a priest, handled his soldiers well. He is a gallant\nman and I grieve that we are like to lose him.\"\n\n\"Why?\" I asked.\n\n\"Oh! because in his fight with a fellow whom he flung over the\nbulwarks, he took a knife-thrust in the vitals, which they think will\nbe mortal. See, they are bearing him to my cabin,\" and he pointed to\nKallikrates being carried forward by four men--a sight that stirred my\nheart.\n\nThen Philo was summoned away, for it seemed that when the _Hapi_\nrammed, she sprang a leak and the carpenters called Philo to consult\nwith them as to how it might be stopped.\n\nWhen they had gone I followed after Kallikrates and found him laid in\nPhilo's cabin. They had taken off his armour and the leech, an\nEgyptian, was cleaning a cut in his thigh whence the blood ran down\nhis ivory skin.\n\n\"Is it mortal?\" I asked.\n\n\"I know not, Lady,\" answered the leech, \"I cannot tell the depth of\nthe thrust. Pray Isis for him, for he has lost much blood.\"\n\nNow I who was skilled in medicine and in the treatment of wounds which\nI had learned from a great master in my youth among the Arabs, helped\nthat physician as best I might, staunching the blood flow and\nstitching up the cut with silk before we bandaged it.\n\nMoreover, taking from my hand a charmed and ancient amulet that gave\nhealth and had the power, so it was said, to cause the sick or wounded\nto recover, I set it on the finger of Kallikrates that it might cure\nhim. This amulet was a ring of brown stone on which were graven\ncertain hieroglyphics that meant _Royal Son of the Sun_. He who gave\nit to me told me that it had been worn by that greatest of all healers\nand magicians, Kh\u00e6muas, the eldest son of the mighty Rameses. Once\nonly did I see this ring again as shall be told. Then of it I lost\nsight and knowledge till, after more than two thousand years, I beheld\nit on the hand of Holly in the caves of K\u00f4r.\n\nAs I worked thus the pain of the needle awoke Kallikrates from his\nswoon. He opened his eyes, looked up and saw me, then muttered in\nGreek so low that only I who was bending over him heard his words.\nThey were:\n\n\"I thank thee, Beloved. I thank thee and the gods who have granted\nthat like my forefathers I should die no priest, but a soldier and a\nman. Yea, I thank thee, _O royal and beautiful Amenartas_.\"\n\nThen he swooned again and I left him quickly, having learned that it\nwas of the Egyptian he dreamed, and doubtless that it was for the sake\nof this same Egyptian that he had changed his sacred robe for mail,\nyes, the Egyptian Amenartas for whom he had mistaken me, Ayesha, in\nthe wanderings of his weakness.\n\nWell, why not? What had I to do with him or any man? Yet of a sudden I\ngrew weary of the world and almost wished that the _Holy Fire_ had\nrammed the _Hapi_ and not the _Hapi_ the _Holy Fire_.\n\nYonder behind us a thousand men were now at peace beneath the sea.\nBeing overwrought with all that I had endured and seen, almost I could\nhave wished that I, too, was at peace beneath the sea, sleeping for\never, or perchance to wake again nursed in the holy arms of Isis.\n\n\nIn the cabin sat my master, the prophet Noot, staring through the open\ndoorway at the infinite blue of heaven above, as I knew that he had\ndone during all that fearsome fight.\n\nHe smiled when he saw me and asked,\n\n\"Whence come you, Daughter, and why do your eyes shine like stars?\"\n\n\"I come from the sight of the death of men, my Father, and my eyes\nshine with the light of battle.\"\n\n\"With other lights also, I think, Daughter. O Ayesha, beauty is yours,\nwisdom is yours, and you are filled with spirit like a cup with wine.\nBut what of the cup? What of the cup? I fear me that those fair feet\nof yours have far to travel before they reach their home.\"\n\n\"What is their home, Father?\"\n\n\"Do you not know it after these many years of learning? Hearken. I\nwill tell you. Your home is God, not this god or that god called by a\nhundred names, but the God beyond the gods. Doubtless you will love\nand you will hate, as you have loved and hated. And doubtless you are\ndestined to draw up what you love and to come to peace with what you\nhate. Yet know that above all mortal loves there is another love in\nwhich they must be both lost and found. God is the end of man, O\nAyesha, God or--death. All sin, all stumble on the path, but only\nthose who continue on that path or who, having lost it, with tears and\nbroken hearts seek it again and, like the Sisyphus of fable, thrust\nbefore them their frozen load of fleshly error, till at length it\nmelts in the light that shines above; only those, I say, attain to the\neternal peace.\"\n\nSo solemnly did he speak, uttering the slow words one by one, and so\ndeep and holy was the lesson that they hid, that I, Ayesha, grew\nafraid.\n\n\"What have you seen and what do you know, my Father?\" I asked humbly.\n\n\"Daughter, I have seen you yonder in Sidon rejoicing in vengeance for\nvengeance's sake; aye, glad when the vile hound who would have gripped\nyou, gasped out his life before your eyes. You did not slay him,\nAyesha, but it was your counsel that gave cunning to the thought that\nplanned and strength to the arm that dealt the blow.\"\n\n\"It was so fated, O my father, and otherwise----\"\n\n\"Yes, it was so fated; yet you should not have rejoiced in the hour of\nyour triumph. Nay, you should have sorrowed as the gods sorrow when\nthey fulfil the decrees of Destiny. Again I have seen you burning with\nthe flame of battle, your heart filled with songs of victory when\nPhilo's skill and the Grecian courage of Kallikrates sent those mad\nbrutes of Persians to their account. And lastly unless I dream----\nWhat did you but now in Philo's cabin, Daughter?\"\n\n\"I tended a wounded man, my Father, as I have the skill to do. Also I\ngave him an amulet which it is said has virtue to heal the sick.\"\n\n\"Aye, that was right and kind and the just reward of courage. Did he\nthank you, Daughter? I thought that in the quiet I heard thanks come\nfrom his lips.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" I answered sullenly, \"his mind wandered and he thanked--another\nwoman who was not there.\"\n\nAgain Noot smiled a little, and answered,\n\n\"Was it so? Then let her name be. Yet remember that from such\nwanderings of a mind distraught ofttimes springs the truth, like water\nfrom a shattered rock. Oh! Daughter, Daughter, if this man forgets his\nvows, must you do the same? For him there is excuse who is a\nsoldier--can we doubt it who have looked upon his deeds to-day? He\nbecame a priest for love's sake and the shed blood which it brought.\nBut for you there is none--at least none upon the earth,\" he added\nhastily. \"I pray you, therefore, let this man be, for if you do not,\nmy gift of wisdom tells me that you will bring much trouble on your\nhead and his. Why will you seek after vanity? Is it because in the\npride of your beauty you cannot bear that another should be preferred\nbefore you and that a fruit which it is not lawful for you to pluck,\nshould fall into some other woman's lap? I say to you, Daughter, that\nthis beauty is your curse, because to it you demand obedience night\nand day, although of it you should think nothing, remembering its end.\nYou are too proud, you are too puffed up. Look upon the stars and\nlearn to be humble, lest you should be humbled by that which is\nstronger.\"\n\n\"I am still a woman, Father, a woman whose mission it is to love and\nto bear babes.\"\n\n\"Then learn to love that which is above and let the babes you bear be\nthose of wisdom and good works. Is it your part to suckle sinners like\nany hedge-side troll, you to whom the heavens stretch out their hands?\nIs it for you in whose breast springs the tree of life to root it up\nand in its place to sow the seed of a woman's common arts, that by\ntheir aid you may snatch her lover from a rival? Because he sins, if\nsin he does, should you cease from being holy? Where is your\ngreatness? Where are your purity and pride? I pray to you, beloved\ndaughter of my spirit, swear to me by Heaven which we serve, that with\nthis man you will have no more to do. Twice have you sinned--once in\nthe sanctuary yonder at Phil\u00e6 when his kiss met yours, and now again\nnot an hour gone upon this ship, when your heart was torn with jealous\nrage because the name of another woman escaped from lips that you\nthought were about to shape your own. Twice have you sinned and twice\nhas the goddess turned her head and shut her eyes. But if for a third\ntime you should walk into this pit dug of your own hands, then know\nthat escape will be hard indeed. I tell you\"--here his face and his\nlow voice hardened--\"I tell you that from age to age shall you strive\nunceasingly to wash the stain of blood from off those hands and that\nall your breath shall become a sigh and your every heart-beat shall be\nan agony. Swear then, swear!\"\n\nI looked at his eyes and saw that they were alight and unearthly, yes,\nthat some spirit shining from within caused them to glow like\nalabaster lamps. I looked at the thin hand which he stretched out\ntoward me and saw that it trembled in his passion.\n\nI looked and was moved to obey. Yet ere I did so I asked,\n\n\"Were _you_ ever young, my Father? Did _you_ ever suffer from this\neternal curse which Nature lays on men and women because she would not\ndie? Did _you_ ever take the bribe of sweet madness with which she\nbaits her hook? Or, as once I think you told me in bygone years, were\nyou always holy and apart?\"\n\nHe covered his eyes with those thin hands, then answered,\n\n\"I was young. I suffered from that curse. Whatever I may have said to\nyou in the past when you were but a child, I gorged that bait, not\nonce but many times, and I have paid the price. Because I have paid it\nto my ruin, I pray you whom I love not to empty your heart of its\npurest virgin gold and fill the void with pain and penitence. Easy is\nit to fall, Daughter, but hard, very hard to rise again. Will you not\nswear?\"\n\n\"Aye,\" I answered, \"I swear by Isis and by your spirit, O Purified.\"\n\n\"You swear,\" he said, whispering, \"but will you keep the oath? I\nwonder, aye, I wonder greatly, will you keep that oath, O high-hearted\nwoman whose blood runs with so red and strong a stream?\"\n\nThen bending forward he kissed me on the brow, and rising left me.\n\n\nKallikrates did not die. Under the care of that cunning leech or of\nsomething above the leech, Death was cheated of him, since it seemed\nthat the knife-thrust had not reached his vitals, or at least had not\npierced them beyond repair. Still he was sick for a long while, for\nhis whole body was drained of blood, so that had he been older, or\nless vigorous, Osiris would have taken him. Or perchance not in vain\nhad I set upon his finger that scarab-talisman once charmed by\nKh\u00e6muas. I visited him no more, and thus it was not until we were\npassing up the Nile and drew near to Memphis that I saw him again.\nThen, very pale and wasted, yet to my fancy more pleasing than he had\nbeen, since now his face had grown spiritual and his eyes were those\nof one that had looked close into those of Death, he was carried in a\nbed on to the deck. There I spoke with him, thanking him in the name\nof our goddess for the great deeds that he had done. He smiled and his\nwhite face took a little tinge of red as he answered,\n\n\"I fear me, O Mouth-of-Isis, that it was not of the goddess that I\nthought in that fray, but rather of the joy of battle which I, a\npriest, had never hoped to feel again. Nay, nor was it for the goddess\nthat I smote as best I could, since in the extremities of war the\ngates of heaven, which are then in truth so near, seem very far away,\nbut rather that after all which you had passed, you, with the rest of\nus, might not fall into the hands of the heathen fire-worshippers.\"\n\nNow I smiled back, for the words, if false, were courteous, and\nreplied that doubtless also he, who was still young, desired to go on\nliving.\n\n\"Nay,\" he answered earnestly, \"I think that I desire to die rather\nthan to live, and to pass hence as often my forefathers have done,\nsword in hand and helm on head. Life is no boon to a shaven priest,\nLady, one who by his vows is cut off from all its joys.\"\n\n\"What is a man's joy in life?\" I asked.\n\n\"Look at yourself in a mirror, Lady, and you will learn,\" he answered,\nand there was that in his voice which caused me to wonder whether it\nwas possible after all that the wrong name came from his lips in the\nwanderings of his mind.\n\nFor then I did not know that a man may love two women and at the same\ntime; one with his spirit and the other with his flesh, since through\nall things runs this war between the spirit and the flesh. The spirit\nof Kallikrates was always mine, having been given to me from the\nbeginning, but with his flesh it was otherwise, and perchance while he\nis in the flesh it will so remain.\n\nBefore we reached Memphis a signal was made for us to anchor. Then a\nbarge, flying the standard of Pharaoh, came off to us from the shore.\nOn board of it was Nectanebes himself and with him his daughter, the\nPrincess of Egypt, the lady Amenartas; also certain councillors and\nGrecian captains in his service.\n\nThe Pharaoh and the others came aboard to learn tidings of what had\nchanced at Sidon, and were received by Philo and by Noot. Presently\nthey demanded to be led to me and I met them on the deck outside my\ncabin, noting that the eyes of Nectanebes were troubled and that his\nfat cheeks had fallen in.\n\n\"So you are returned to us, Oracle-of-Isis,\" he said in a hesitating\nvoice, scanning my form, for my face he could not see because it was\nveiled.\n\n\"I am returned, O Pharaoh,\" I answered, bowing before his Majesty. \"It\nhas pleased Her whom I serve to deliver me out of the hands of King\nTenes of Sidon, to whom Pharaoh offered me as a gift.\"\n\n\"Aye, I remember. It was at that feast when the water in the cup you\nheld turned to blood. Well, if all I hear is true, there has been\nblood enough out yonder.\"\n\n\"Yes, Pharaoh, the Sidonian seas run red with it. Tenes, Egypt's ally,\nsurrendered the city to Ochus the Persian, thinking to find great\nadvancement, which he won by death, whereon the Sidonians burned\nthemselves in their houses with their wives and children. So it comes\nabout that all Ph\u0153nicia is in the hands of Ochus who advances upon\nEgypt with a mighty host.\"\n\n\"The gods have deserted me!\" moaned Nectanebes, waving his arms.\n\n\"Aye, Pharaoh,\" I answered in a cold voice, \"for the gods are very\njealous and seldom forgive those who forsake them and betray their\nservants into the hands of enemies that hate them.\"\n\nHe understood and answered in a low, babbling voice,\n\n\"Be not angry with me, Oracle-of-Isis, for what else could I do? That\nSidonian dog, whom may Set devour eternally, was mad for you. Always I\nmistrusted him and I was sure that if I refused you to him, he would\nmake his peace with Ochus and bite me in the back, as indeed he\nthreatened at the feast. Also I knew well that Mother Isis would\nprotect you from all harm at his hands, which it seems that she has\ndone.\"\n\nNow when I heard these words rage filled me and I answered,\n\n\"Aye, Pharaoh, Mother Isis has done this and more. Have you heard how\nyour poison worked? Nay? Then I will tell you. Having sacrificed her\nonly son to Dagon, Tenes would have put away Beltis, his queen, to\ngive her place to me. Mad with hate, Beltis led him into the arms of\nthe Persian and afterward when his treachery was accomplished, slew\nhim with her own hand, for I saw the deed. And now, Pharaoh, Sidon has\nfallen and with it all Ph\u0153nicia, and soon, Pharaoh, Egypt will follow\nSidon. Aye, I, the Oracle, tell you that because you were pleased to\nthrow the high-priestess of Isis into the arms of Tenes as though she\nwere some singing woman of whom you had wearied, these things have\ncome about. Therefore too soon there will no longer be a Pharaoh in\nEgypt and the Persian will take the Land of Nile and defile the altars\nof its gods.\"\n\nHe heard. He trembled. He had naught to say. But there was another who\nheard also. As I had noted, the Princess Amenartas, when she came on\nto the ship, went straight to where Kallikrates lay upon a couch\nbeneath an awning on the deck, and there talked with him earnestly.\nWhat they said I could not hear for they spoke together beneath their\nbreath. But their faces I could see, and watching them I grew sure\nthat the Greek had made no error of a mind distraught when he spoke\nthis royal lady's name as I tended his wounds. For those faces were\nthe faces of lovers who met after long separation and the passing of\ngreat dangers.\n\nLeaving Kallikrates this Amenartas had returned to her father and\nstood at his side listening to our talk. Now she broke in fiercely,\n\n\"Surely, Priestess, you were ever a bird of evil omen croaking of\ndisaster. You fly to Sidon and lo! Sidon burns, yet you escape with\nwings unscorched. Now you flit back to Egypt and again wail of woe\nlike a night owl of the desert. How is it, O Isis-come-to-Earth, as it\npleases you to call yourself, that you alone escape from Sidon and\nreturn here to curdle the blood of men with prophecies such as those\nyou uttered at the feast when by a trick you turned the water into\nblood? Have you perchance made friends with Ochus?\"\n\n\"Ask it of Philo the captain of this ship, Lady,\" I answered in a\nquiet voice. \"Or stay. Ask it of yonder priest which perchance will\nplease you better, the Grecian who in the world was named Kallikrates.\nAsk them how I showed friendship to Ochus by so working through the\nstrength of Isis and their skill and valour that the Persian's finest\nship of war with a multitude of his sailors and fighting men lies\nto-day at the bottom of the deep.\"\n\n\"Perchance because a captain was skilled and a certain priest, or\nsoldier, was brave, that ship is sunk with all she bore, but not, I\nthink, through you or your prayers, O Oracle. I say to you, Pharaoh,\nmy father, that if I held your sceptre I would send this\n_Isis-come-to-Earth_ to seek Isis in Heaven ere she bring more sorrows\non us and Egypt.\"\n\n\"Nay, nay,\" muttered Nectanebes, rolling his big eyes, \"speak not so\nmadly, Daughter, lest the Mother should hear and once more smite me.\nHearken. Last night I, who have skill, consulted my spirit, the D\u00e6mon\nwho obeys me. He came, he spoke. I heard him with my ears. Yes, he\nspoke of this prophetess. He said that she drew near to Memphis on a\nship. He said that she was great, almost a goddess, that she must be\ncherished, that to you and me she would be a shelter from the storm,\nthat in her is the power of One who sits above. O Oracle, O\nIsis-come-to-Earth, O Wisdom's Daughter, forgive the wild words of\nthis royal child of mine who is distraught with fear, and know that,\nto the last, Pharaoh is your friend and your protector.\"\n\n\"As mayhap, if this D\u00e6mon of yours speaks truth, before all is done I\nshall be the protector of Pharaoh and of the Princess of Egypt whom it\npleases to revile me,\" I replied.\n\nThen bowing to him I turned and sought my cabin.\n\n\n CHAPTER XIII\n The Shame of Pharaoh\n\nWhen Pharaoh and his daughter had gone, though I did not see them\ngo, I bade farewell to Philo, thanking him much and, in reward for all\nhe had done, calling down on him the blessing of the goddess which he\nreceived upon his bended knees. Moreover, when he had risen from them\nhe swore himself to my service, saying that while he lived he would\ncome even from the ends of the earth to do my will. Also he showed me\nhow I might call him by certain secret ways.\n\nSo we bade farewell for a while, nor did I let him go empty-handed,\nsince from those jewels that Tenes had heaped upon me, which almost by\naccident I had preserved in my flight, I took certain of great value\nand gave them to him as a gift from the goddess. Thus we parted\nthough, as both of us were sure, not for the last time.\n\nSo soon as our coming was known the priests and priestesses of Isis\nflocked to the quay in solemn procession to receive Noot, their\nhigh-priest, and me their high-priestess, which they did with sacred\nceremony and holy chants. By them we were escorted through the streets\nof Memphis to the temple of Isis accompanied by many of the crew of\nthe _Hapi_ that were of our brotherhood. Among them I missed one.\n\n\"Where is the priest Kallikrates?\" I asked of Noot.\n\nHe smiled and answered,\n\n\"I think that he has been taken to the palace of Pharaoh to be nursed\nuntil he recovers from his wounds. Perchance for a while he is minded,\nor it is decreed that he should continue to play a warrior's part. Yet\nfear not, Daughter; those upon whose brow Isis has laid her hands, in\nlife or death must return to her at last. They are hawks upon a string\nwhich, though it stretches, cannot be broken.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" I answered, \"in life or death,\" and asked no more of this\nKallikrates.\n\nIn the midst of the rejoicings of the city at our safe return, we came\nto the temple and made sacrifice. There it was that I set the jewels\nof Tenes, all save those that I had given to Philo, upon the alabaster\nstatue of the goddess in her inmost shrine that only I and Noot might\nenter, and there too by signs and wonders she signified to me her\nacceptance of the offering. For here while we stood alone before the\neffigy of the goddess in that holy place, a trance fell upon Noot and\nin his trance he spoke to me with the voice of Isis and out of her\ninfinite heart. This was the divine message that came to me through\nthe lips of Noot:\n\n\"Daughter, I, thy mother, know of all that thou hast passed and of all\nthat thou must pass. Though the barbarian come and the gods of Egypt\nare thrown down and ruin smites the land and thou seemest to be left\nalone, abide thou here till my word bids thee to depart. By myself and\nThat of which under the name of Isis I am a minister, I swear that no\nharm shall befall thee or that place where thou art, or those of my\nservants who remain with thee. Therefore await my commands with\npatience, doing such things as I inspire thee to do, that thou mayest\nbring the vengeance of the gods upon those dogs who desecrate their\nshrines.\"\n\nThus spoke Noot in his trance, not knowing what he had said until I\ntold him afterward. He listened earnestly and bade me obey.\n\n\"Even if I be taken from you for a while, as it comes to me will\nhappen--perchance I learned it in my swoon, Daughter--and you are left\nunfriended and alone, still I pray you to obey. If so, think not that\nI am dead, who do but return to my own place and land, but wait until\nmy message comes. Then obey that also though I know not what it will\nbe.\"\n\nThus he spoke solemnly and I bowed my head and hid his words within my\nheart----\n\n\nThe war began, Egypt's last war for life. Nectanebes the Pharaoh,\ninspired by his evil D\u00e6mon, thrust aside his captains and declared\nhimself General in Chief of his armies, he who had scarce the wit or\nthe courage to command the guard of a harem. At first that D\u00e6mon\nserved him well, since at Barathra, as the gulfs are named which make\nthe Sirbonian bog, the Persians were trapped and lost many thousands\nof their men who sank through the sand into the marshes and there were\ndrowned or speared. But their numbers were uncountable and the rest\ncame on. Pelusium was besieged and for a while held its own against\nthe giant Nicostratus of Argos, a man as strong as Hercules who, like\nHercules, clothed himself in a lion's skin and for a weapon bore a\ngreat club. The Grecian captain, Kleinios of Cos, he who had been\npresent at the feast when I was given over to Tenes and whom in my\nvision at that feast I had seen dead, lying upon a heap of slain,\nattacked Nicostratus and after a mighty fight was defeated, Kleinios\nand five thousand men of those who were with him being slain. Thus was\nmy vision fulfilled.\n\nThen his D\u00e6mon departed from Nectanebes taking his heart with him,\nfor of a sudden Pharaoh ceased to be a man and, becoming a coward,\nfled back to Memphis, leaving his fleet, his cities, and their\ngarrisons to their fate.\n\nRumour ran fast; it told of the fall of city after city, some stormed,\nsome bribed to surrender; it told that Ochus had sworn to burn Memphis\nand after it Thebes; also to seize Nectanebes and roast him living\nupon the altar in the great temple of Ptah here at Memphis, or\notherwise to make him fight with the bull Apis after the beast had\nbeen driven mad by fiery darts. It told that the Egyptians, enraged at\nthe desertion of their armies by Pharaoh, would themselves seize him\nand give him up to Ochus as a peace-offering. Crowds gathered and\nrushed through the streets of Memphis calling imprecations on his\nname, or clustered like bees round the altars of the gods, praying for\nhelp in their despair, yes, round the neglected altars of the gods of\nEgypt.\n\nThen of a sudden came Amenartas, flying to the temple of Isis for\nsanctuary, since it was reported that Ochus had said that the shrines\nof Isis he would spare alone, because she was the Mother of all things\nand her throne was in the moon and her husband was Osiris-Ra who was\nthe Father of fire which he worshipped; also because a certain\npriestess of the goddess had done him great service in the war, words\nthat caused me to wonder.\n\nSo this royal princess came and put on the veil of a novice that it\nmight protect her should Ochus take the city. But though this veil\nchanged her face and form to the eyes of men, her heart it did not\nchange.\n\nA little later came Kallikrates from the war in the Delta where I\nlearned he had done great things, fighting bravely. Indeed he told me\nhimself that he had fought the giant Nicostratus in single combat and\nwounded him, though the matter was not pressed to an end, since others\nrushed up and separated them. He said that he was a very terrible man\nand that when that huge club of his wavered above him, for the first\ntime in his life he felt afraid. Notwithstanding he ran in beneath the\nclub and stabbed Nicostratus in the shoulder.\n\nThus it happened that all being lost in war and his service at an end,\nKallikrates the captain once more became Kallikrates the priest and\nagain put on the robes of Isis. Therefore in that temple, serving\ntogether before its altars were Amenartas, Princess of Egypt, and\nKallikrates, priest of Isis.\n\nOften I, Ayesha, seated in my chair of state as first of that holy\ncompany, save the aged Noot alone, watched them from beneath my veil\nwhile they anointed the statue of the goddess or joined in the sacred\nchants and hymns of praise. As I watched I noted this--that always\nthey drew near together as though some strength compelled them; that\nalways their glances thrown from the corners of their eyes, met and\nturned away and met again, and that always, if occasion served, the\nrobe of the one brushed the robe of the other, or the hand of the one\ntouched the hand of the other. These things I noted in silence,\nwondering what judgment the goddess would call down upon this\nbeauteous pair who dared thus to violate her sanctuary with their\nearthly passion. Oh! much I wondered, though little did I guess what\nit would be and by whose hand it was destined to fall upon them.\n\nLastly came Nectanebes himself, his great eyes full of terror and his\nfat frame wasted with woe and sleeplessness. He sought audience of me.\n\n\"O Prophetess,\" he said, \"all is lost! Ochus Artaxerxes has his foot\nupon my neck. I fly, seeking shelter beneath the wings of Isis,\nseeking shelter from you, O Isis-come-to-earth. Help me, Daughter\ndivine, for my D\u00e6mon has deserted me, or if he comes at all it is but\nto jibber and to mock.\"\n\n\"Strange words from Pharaoh,\" I answered in a voice of scorn, \"very\nstrange words from Pharaoh who gave this same prophetess to be the\nwoman of a vile, Baal-serving king; from Pharaoh who has deserted his\narmy, his country, and his gods, and now seeks only to save his\ntreasure and his life.\"\n\n\"Reproach me not,\" he moaned, \"Fate has been too strong for me, as\nperchance one day it may be too strong for you also. At first all went\nwell. In the bygone years I conquered the Persian; I built temples to\nthe gods. Then of a sudden Fortune hid her face and now--and now!\"\n\n\"Aye, O fallen Pharaoh,\" I answered, \"and why did Fortune hide her\nface? I will tell it, to whom it has been revealed. It was because\nalthough you built temples to the gods, you were false to the gods. In\nsecret, following the counsel of that D\u00e6mon of yours, you made bloody\nsacrifice to devils, to Baal, to Ashtoreth, and to Aphrodite of the\nGreeks. Nay, do not start and deny, for I know all. Lastly, to crown\nyour crimes, you gave me, the high-prophetess of Isis, to the base,\nred-handed Tenes, one who offered his own son to idols. What has\nchanced to Tenes who took me, and say, what shall chance to him who\nsold me, O Nectanebes no more a Pharaoh?\"\n\nNow I thought that surely he would kill me and cared not if he did.\nFor my heart was sore--oh! because of many things my heart was sore.\nBut like a beaten cur he only cowered at my feet, praying me to pardon\nhim, praying me to cease from beating him with my tongue, praying me\nto counsel him. I listened and pity took hold of me, who was ever\ntender-minded though a lover of justice and a hater of traitors.\n\n\"Hearken,\" I said at last. \"If Ochus finds you here, O fallen Pharaoh,\nfirst he will make a mock of you and then he will torture you to\ndeath. I have heard what he will do. He will bring you to his judgment\nseat and lay you bound upon your back and grind his sandals upon your\nface. Then he will force you to sacrifice to the fire that he worships\nand one by one to spit upon the effigies of the gods of Egypt. Lastly,\neither he will cause the holy bull Apis to gore you to death, or he\nwill bind you upon the altar in the temple of Ptah and there slowly\nwith torments bring you to your end.\"\n\nNow when Nectanebes heard these things, he wept and I thought that he\nwould swoon away.\n\n\"Hearken,\" I said again, \"I will show you a road whereby although\ndefeated and disgraced you may yet win glory that shall be told of\nfrom age to age. Summon the people while there is yet time. Go to the\ntemple of Ammon, King of the gods of Egypt. Stand before the shrine of\nAmmon and make confession of your sins in the ears of all. Then, there\nin the sight of all, slay yourself, praying Ammon and all the gods to\naccept your life as an offering and to spare Egypt and the people upon\nwhose head you, the hated of the gods, have brought all these woes. So\ncan you cause the Persian and the world to marvel and say that though\naccursed, still you were great, and so perchance you shall turn away\nthe wrath of heaven from apostate Egypt.\"\n\nA flash of pride shone in his eyes that had been empty of light and\nfilled with tears. He lifted his head stiffly as though still it felt\nthe weight of the great earrings of state, the golden ur\u00e6us, and the\ndouble crown. For a moment he looked as once he had done at Sais\nreviewing his triumphant army after his first victory over the\nPersians and drinking in the incense of its shouts, yes, he looked as\ngreat Thotmes and the proud Rameses might have done in their day, a\nPharaoh, the king of all the world he knew.\n\n\"It would be well to die thus,\" he murmured, \"it would be very well,\nand then, perhaps, the gods I have betrayed would forgive me, the old,\nold gods to whom thirty dynasties of recorded kings have bowed the\nknee, and those who went before them for unnumbered generations. Yes,\nthen perhaps that great company of Pharaohs would not turn their backs\non me or spit at me when I join them at the table of Osiris. But,\nProphetess\"--here his face fell in again and his crab-like eyes\nprojected and rolled, while his voice sank to a whisper, \"Prophetess,\n_I dare not_.\"\n\n\"Why, Nectanebes?\"\n\n\"Because--oh! because years ago I struck a bargain with a certain\nPower of the Under-world, a d\u00e6mon if you will, at least some spirit\nof evil that comes I know not whence and dwells I know not where,\nwhich became manifest to me. It promised me glory and success if I\nwould sacrifice to it--nay, I will not tell what I sacrificed, but\nonce I had a son, yes, like Tenes I had a son----\"\n\nHere I, Ayesha, shivered, then motioned to him to speak on.\n\n\"This was the bargain, that though to please the people I might build\ntemples to the gods, by certain means I must defile them in their\nshrines. Aye, and I did defile them, and when the priest dressed me,\nthe Pharaoh, in the trappings of those gods according to custom, by\nthought and word and deed I blasphemed them. Yet one divinity remained\noutside the pact because my D\u00e6mon warned me that she was too strong\nfor him and must not be offended,\" and he paused.\n\n\"Was she perchance named Isis?\" I asked.\n\n\"Aye, Prophetess, she was named Isis and therefore I never polluted\nher shrine and therefore to her alone in my heart I offered prayer. So\nall went well and I gathered great armies and vast wealth, I hired\nGreeks by thousands to fight for me, I made alliances with many kings\nand was sure that again I should defeat the Persians and be the master\nof the world. Then came the evil hour of that accursed feast at which\nyou, the Mouth of Isis, were summoned to prophesy and, moved by some\nmadness, you unveiled your beauty before Tenes, and I, forgetting\nwhose minister you were, gave you to Tenes, thereby outraging Isis in\nyour person.\"\n\n\"Did I not warn you, Nectanebes, and did not the holy Noot warn you?\"\n\n\"Aye, you warned me, but in my need I took the risk, or I forgot. From\nthat moment all went ill and ruin, like a giant before whom none may\nstand, has hunted me by night and day.\"\n\n\"Yes, Nectanebes, and Isis is the name of that giant.\"\n\n\"I made error upon error,\" he went on. \"I trusted to Tenes and Tenes\nbetrayed me. My D\u00e6mon counselled me to thrust aside the Grecian\ngenerals and take command of the armies, and at first there was\nvictory, then came defeat. It might have been retrieved, but of a\nsudden my courage failed me. It fell like a temple of which the\nfoundations have been washed out by hidden waters. It crashed down; in\na moment its proud pylons, its tall columns, its massive, honourable\nwalls blazoned with the records of glorious deeds, fell to a shapeless\nheap hidden in the dust of shame. I am undone. I am what you see, a\nloathsome worm, a wounded worm wriggling in the black slime of\ndespair, I who was Pharaoh.\"\n\nAgain pity touched me, Ayesha, and I answered,\n\n\"There still remains the road that I have pointed out. While we live,\nhowever black our record, repentance is always possible, since\notherwise there would be no hope for man the sinner. Moreover,\nrepentance, if it be true, brings amendment in its train, and this\ngod-born pair struggling upward, hand in hand, over cruel rocks,\nthrough swamps and streams, through brakes and briars, blinded with\ntears and the gross darkness of despair, at length see the sweet shape\nof Forgiveness shining before them like a holy dawn such as never\ngleams upon this world. Hearken, therefore, to one who speaks not with\nher own voice, or out of the foolishness of her own weak flesh, but as\nshe is commanded of a spirit that is within her. Go to the temple of\nAmmon and there in the presence of the people make confession of your\nsins and fall, a sacrifice, upon your sword. Self-murder is a sin, but\noccasions come when to live on is a greater sin, since it is better to\ndie for others than to cherish breath that poisons them.\"\n\n\"To die! There you speak it, Prophetess. I say again that I dare not\ndie. When I die I pass to the D\u00e6mon. This was the pact: that for my\nlife he should give me success and glory and that in return after\ndeath, I should surrender him my soul.\"\n\n\"Is it so?\" I answered. \"Well, the bargain is ancient, as old as the\nworld, I think; one also that every human being in his degree seals or\nrefuses to seal in this way or in that. Still my counsel holds. This\nD\u00e6mon of yours has broken his oath, for where now are the success and\nglory, Nectanebes? Therefore he cannot claim the fulfilment of your\nown.\"\n\n\"Nay, Prophetess,\" he answered in a wailing voice, \"he has _not_\nbroken it. From the first he told me that I must work no harm to Isis\nthe Mother, since the Queen of Heaven was more powerful than all the\ndenizens of hell, and that if once it were spoken, her Word of\nStrength would pierce and shrivel him like a red-hot sword and cutting\nhis web of spells, would bring his oaths to nothingness and me with\nthem. And now the web is cut, and I the painted insect that it meshed,\nfall from it to where the hell-born spider sits in his hole.\nProphetess, I have seen him with these eyes, I have seen his orbs of\nfire, I have seen his snout and fangs like to those of a crocodile, I\nhave seen his great hairy arms and the searching talons stretched out\nto grip me, and I tell you that I dare not die to be cast into the\njaws of the Devourer and burn eternally in his belly of flames. Show\nme how to save my life, so that I may continue to look upon the sun.\nOh! because you are a tender woman and charitable, though I have\nsinned against you, show me how to save my life.\"\n\nNow hearing this creature plead with me thus, this coward who at the\nlast did not dare go face the indignant gods like a man, saying, as a\ngreat soul should, \"I have deeply erred, O ye Gods; I repent, pardon\nme of your nobility, or slay my soul and make an end,\" my pity left me\nand its place was filled with scorn and loathing.\n\n\"Those who would live when the Persian dogs are on their heels, must\nfly fast and far, Nectanebes; they must fly like the deer of the\ndesert on whom the hunters close. The road up Nile is empty,\nNectanebes; as yet there are no Persians there. As you would not die,\ntake it and live.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" he said as the thought went home, \"why not? I have still a vast\ntreasure; for many years I have hoarded against misfortune, for who\ncan put all his trust in any D\u00e6mon? With it I can buy friends in the\nsouth; with it I may found another empire among the Ethiopians or\nthose of Punt. Why should I not fly, Prophetess?\"\n\n\"I know not,\" I answered, \"save that Death is always fast and untiring\nand in the end wears down the swiftest runner.\"\n\nThis I said darkly for at that moment there came into my mind a vision\nthat once I had seen of a certain servile slave, aforetime a Pharaoh,\nthat same royal slave who grovelled before me; yea, a vision of him\nthrottling in a rope while black men mocked him. Yet of that I said\nnothing, only added,\n\n\"If it should please you to go south, Nectanebes, would it please you\nalso to take with you that royal and beautiful lady, Amenartas your\ndaughter, aforetime Princess of Egypt?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" he answered sharply, \"since hour by hour she scourges me with\nher tongue because I am fallen. Let her abide here under the veil of\nIsis. Yet why do you ask this, Prophetess?\"\n\n\"Because of Isis. Because, as I think, this lady of the royal blood\nmakes play with a certain priest who is sworn to Isis, and the goddess\ndoes not love that her vowed servitors should desert her for the sake\nof mortal woman.\"\n\n\"What priest?\" he asked dully.\n\n\"A Greek who is named Kallikrates.\"\n\n\"I know him, Prophetess. A very beauteous man, like to their own\nApollo; a brave one too who did good service yonder in the marshes,\nfighting the giant general whom he wounded. Also I remember that in\nthe past he was a captain of my guard before he became a priest and\nthat there was trouble concerning him, though what trouble I forget,\nsave that Amenartas pleaded for him. Well, if he has offended you,\nthere are still those who do my will. Send for him, and if it pleases\nyou, he shall be killed. I give you his life. Yes, his blood shall\nflow at your feet. Indeed I will command it at once, since you tell me\nhe has shamed the goddess or angered you, her priestess,\" and he\nopened his hands to clap them, summoning the messengers of death.\n\nI saw, I thrust my arm between so that they struck not upon each\nother, but upon my soft flesh, making no sound.\n\n\"Nay,\" I said, \"this warrior-priest is a good servant of the Queen\nIsis, one, moreover, who fought for me, her prophetess, upon the seas.\nHe shall not die for so small a matter. Yet I pray you, Nectanebes,\ntake with you the royal princess Amenartas, when you fly south with\nyour treasure.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" he answered wearily, \"as it is your desire I'll take her if she\nwill come, though if so there will be small rest for me.\"\n\nThen he went, bowing to me humbly, and this was my farewell to\nNectanebes, the last Pharaoh of Egypt. I watched him go and wondered\nwhether I had done well in forbidding him to kill Kallikrates. It came\ninto my mind that the death of this man would save me much trouble.\nWhy should he not die as others did who had sinned against the\ngoddess? An answer rose within me. It was that he had sinned, not only\nagainst the goddess, but also against me--and this by preferring\nanother woman before me.\n\nWas I then so feeble that I could not hold my own against another\nwoman should I choose to do so? Nay. Yet my trouble was that I did not\nchoose.\n\nNow I saw the truth. My rebellious flesh desired that which my spirit\nrejected. My spirit was far from this man, yet my flesh would have him\nnear. Aye, my flesh said: \"Let him be slain rather than another should\ntake him,\" while my spirit answered, \"What has he to do with one whose\nsoul is set upon things above? Let him go his way, and go you yours.\nAbove all, be not stained with his blood.\"\n\nSo I let him go, not knowing that it was written in the books of Fate\nthat I _must_ be stained with his blood, steeped in it to the eyes.\nAye, I saved him from the sword of Nectanebes and let him go,\ndetermining to think of him no more.\n\nYet as it chanced Fate played me an evil trick in this matter. On the\nmorrow, or the next day, I sat in the gloom of the outer sanctuary\npraying to the goddess to ease me of my sore heart, for alas! strive\nas I would to hide it, that heart was sore. There came a white-robed\npriest, Kallikrates himself, but changed indeed from that glorious\nGrecian warrior who had beat back the boarders on the _Hapi_, or who\nhad fought in single combat with the giant Nicostratus. For now the\nlittle golden curls were shaven from his head and he was pale with the\nthin diet of the fruits of the earth and pure water which alone might\npass the lips of those who were sworn to Isis, enough indeed for me\nwho touched no other food, or such a one as the aged Noot, but not for\na great-framed man bred to the trade of arms. Moreover, his face was\ntroubled as though with some struggle of the soul.\n\nHe passed me unseen and going to the statue of the goddess, knelt down\nbefore it and prayed earnestly, perhaps for help and blessing. Rising\nat length, once more he passed me and I saw that his gray eyes were\nfull of tears and longed to comfort him. Also I saw that still he\ncarried on his hand that ring talisman which I had set there upon the\nship _Hapi_, that it might perchance defend him from the evil\ninfluences which desire and compass the death of men.\n\nHe went out across the pillared court toward the cloister at its end.\nFrom this cloister appeared a woman, the dark and beauteous Amenartas\nherself. This was easy to see since, I know not why, she had put off\nthe veil of Isis and was gloriously attired in the robes of a\nprincess--scanty enough I thought them, for they left bare much of her\nloveliness--while on her dark and abundant hair shone a golden circlet\nfrom which rose the royal ur\u00e6us, and on her arms and bosom sparkled\njewels and necklaces.\n\nThey meet by plan, thought I to myself. But it was not so, for seeing\nher, Kallikrates started and turned to fly; also he covered his eyes\nwith his hand as though to hide her beauty from him. She lifted her\nface like one who pleads, yes, and when he would not hearken, caught\nhim by the hand and drew him into the shadow of the cloister.\n\nThere they remained a long while, for at this hour the place was\ndeserted by all. At length they appeared again on the edge of the\nshadow and I saw that her arms were about him and that her head rested\non his breast. They separated. She vanished into the shadows and went\nher way, while he walked to and fro across the court, muttering to\nhimself like a man who knows not what he does.\n\nI came from my place and met him, saying,\n\n\"Surely you are troubled, Priest. Can it be that the goddess refuses\nyour prayers? Or is it perchance that you weary of them and would\nstill play the part of a warrior of warriors as you did on the galley\n_Hapi_, or but the other day yonder in the northern marshes? If so, it\nis too late, Priest, for Egypt is fallen and all is lost. That is,\nunless, like Mentor and many of your race, you would sell your sword\nto Ochus Artaxerxes.\"\n\n\"Aye, Prophetess,\" he answered, \"Egypt is lost which, being a Greek,\nshould not trouble me over much, and I too am lost, I, the driven of\nan evil fate.\"\n\n\"Speak on if it pleases you. Or be silent if it pleases you, O Priest.\nWhat the prophetess hears, she tells only to the Mother.\"\n\nThen I turned and went back into the shadow of the shrine where I\nleaned against a pillar--I remember that on it was sculptured the\nscene of Thoth weighing hearts before Osiris. Here I waited, wondering\nwhether he would follow me or go his ways.\n\nFor a while he stood hesitating, but at length he followed me.\n\n\"Prophetess,\" he said hoarsely, \"I speak under the veil of Isis,\nknowing that such confessions cannot be revealed. Yet it is hard to\nspeak, since the matter has to do with woman, aye, and with yourself,\nmost holy Prophetess.\"\n\n\"In Isis I have no self,\" I answered.\n\n\"Prophetess, in bygone years, as I think you know, I learned to love a\nroyal maiden, one set far above me, and it seems that she loved me.\nThat passion brought a brother's blood upon my hands, as you also\nknow. I fled to the goddess, seeking peace and forgiveness. For in me\nI think there are two selves, the self of my body and the self of my\nsoul.\"\n\n\"As in most that breathe beneath the sun,\" I answered, sighing.\n\n\"I was bred a soldier, one who came from a race of soldiers, men of\nhigh blood and good to look upon, as once I was, though in this garb\nfew would guess it.\"\n\n\"I have seen you wearing war-harness and can guess,\" I answered,\nsmiling a little.\n\n\"That soldier-self, Prophetess, was as are others of the breed. I\ndrank and I revelled, I bowed the knee to Aphrodite, loving women and\nfor an hour being loved. I fought, not without honour. Then seeking\nadvancement, with my brother I entered the service of Pharaoh, and of\nthat story doubtless you know the rest.\"\n\nI bowed my head and he went on,\n\n\"I came to Phil\u00e6, I made confession, I took the first vows. At night\nand alone I was led to the sanctuary, there to see the vision of the\ngoddess. I saw that vision glowing in the darkened shrine, and oh! it\nwas glorious.\"\n\nHere I started and watched him narrowly, wondering how much he knew or\nguessed.\n\n\"Something took hold of me, Prophetess, for now I beheld her whom all\nmy soul adored, her with whom it would be united. It was as though a\nmemory came to me from afar, a memory and a promise. That Power which\ntook hold of me caused me to bend my head as though to kiss the vision\nand thereby pledge my soul to the divine. The vision also bent its\nhead and our lips met, and lo! hers were like to those of mortal\nwoman, yet sweeter far.\"\n\n\"The Mother is mistress of all shapes, Priest. Yet think not that she\nforgets the pledge that thus it pleased her to accept. From that\nmoment you were sworn to her, and doubtless in a day to come, in this\nform or in that, she will claim you--should you remain true to her, O\nPriest.\"\n\n\"The years passed,\" he went on, \"and true I remained. Fate brought me\nhere to Memphis and in this temple I saw you, holy Prophetess, and\nlearned to worship you from afar, not with the body, but with the\nspirit; since to me you were and are what the vulgar call you,\n_Isis-come-to-Earth_, and the sight of you ever put me in mind, as it\ndoes to-day, of that divine vision whose lips met mine in the shrine\nat Phil\u00e6. Perchance you never knew it, but thus with my spirit I\nworshipped you.\"\n\nNow I, Ayesha, remained silent, leaning against the pillar, for\nweakness took hold of me who felt as though I were about to fall.\nYet--and let the vengeful gods write this to my honour--yet I made him\nno sign that I was she who had played the part of Isis in the\nsanctuary.\n\n\"It is well,\" I said presently, \"and doubtless at the appointed hour\nthe goddess will thank you. But what then is your trouble, Priest? To\nlove a goddess with the spirit is no crime.\"\n\n\"Aye, Prophetess. But what if he who loves the goddess with his spirit\nand is sworn to her alone for ever in a vow of perpetual chastity,\nshould love a woman with his flesh and thus betray both heaven and his\nown soul?\"\n\n\"Then, Priest,\" I answered, speaking very low, \"I fear that he is one\nwhose hope of forgiveness is but small. Yet for those who repent and\ndeny, there is pardon. Only they must deny, they must deny while there\nis still time.\"\n\n\"Easy to say and hard to do,\" he answered, \"at least for him who has\nto deal with one that will not be denied; with one who holds his heart\nin the hollow of her hand and crushes it; with one whose eyes are like\nstar-beacons to which the wanderer must fly; with one whose breath is\nas roses and whose lips are as honey; with one who can drive the\ndesires of man as a racer drives his chariot; with one to whom oaths\nalso have been sworn, such oaths as the youth swears to the maid in\nthe first madness of the flesh, decreed by those who made it.\nGoddesses are far away, but woman is near; moreover, among men there\nis a law which even a prophetess may understand, which says that oaths\nvowed with the lips may not be broken to benefit the vower's soul.\"\n\n\"These are ancient arguments,\" I answered; \"from age to age they echo\nfrom the roofs of the temples of Aphrodite and of Ashtoreth, but Isis\nknows them not. The flesh is given to mankind that its wearers may\nlearn to scorn and trample it; the spirit is given to mankind that its\nholders may learn to rise upon its wings. Woe to those who choose the\nflesh and reject the spirit. Repentance is still possible, and after\nit comes amendment and after amendment, forgiveness.\"\n\nHe brooded awhile, then said,\n\n\"Prophetess, I repent who above all things desire at the end--that end\nwhich again and again I have sought in battle wherever it has passed\nme by--to be united with the goddess, shaped like the divine one whom\nI saw in the shrine at Phil\u00e6. Yes, with her and with no other. But\nhow can I amend who am a lion in a net, a net woven of woman's hair?\"\n\nNow I searched him with my eyes and learned that although so sore\nbeset, this man spoke nothing but the truth. Then I answered,\n\n\"The wise bird flies the snare which it sees spread in its sight.\nTo-morrow at the dawn Noot the Holy sails north to meet certain\nambassadors of the Persians and if he can make terms, to ransom the\ntemples of Isis from the rage of Ochus. Will you go with him,\nbreathing no word of his purpose or of yours? If so, perchance thus at\nlast you shall find that goddess whose lips met yours at Phil\u00e6,\nhere--or otherwhere.\"\n\nHe thought awhile, then muttered,\n\n\"It is hard, very hard, yet I will go; I who would satisfy my soul and\nnot my flesh.\"\n\n\nAs he spoke a tall priestess flitted past us, passing from shadow into\nshadow, but thinking that she was one of those whose duty it was to\nwatch the inner shrine at this hour, I took no note of her. Nor did\nKallikrates, lost in his own thoughts, so much as see her.\n\n\n CHAPTER XIV\n The Beguiling of Bagoas\n\nThat night Noot my master came to bid farewell to me.\n\n\"I go north as I have been commanded--as to how the command came, let\nthat be--hoping thereby to preserve the temples of our worship and\nthose who serve in them. I know not if I shall return, or when, and\ntherefore, Daughter of my spirit, it grieves me to part from you in\nthese troublous times. Yet the command said that you must not\naccompany me but bide here. For your comfort, learn two things: first,\nthat no harm shall come to you, as I have told you before; and\nsecondly, though that hour be far away, even in the flesh we shall\nmeet again. Wait then till my word comes to you.\"\n\nI bowed my head in obedience and asked whether he was unattended.\n\n\"Nay, Daughter,\" he answered. \"I take with me certain of our\nfellowship, and among them that Greek Kallikrates who has asked leave\nto accompany me. Being a man of war, as you have seen, he may\nperchance prove of service upon such a mission. How he learned that I\nwas going I cannot say,\" he added, looking at me curiously.\n\n\"I told him. Ask no more, Master.\"\n\n\"There is little need, I think,\" he answered, smiling. \"It may please\nyou to learn,\" he added bitterly, \"that the traitor who was Pharaoh,\nflies up Nile to-morrow ere the dawn. Already they lade his ship with\nthe chests of Egypt's treasure, many of them, that should have gone to\npay his soldiers and strengthen his allies.\"\n\n\"May the counting of them comfort him in his honourable exile among\nthe Ethiopians! Yet, my Master, I think that he will need to count\nquickly, unless it pleased the gods to send a false vision to me when\nI prophesied in the palace yonder, ere this shameless Nectanebes gave\nthe Daughter of Isis to Tenes the Sidonian.\"\n\n\"If so, Ayesha, the gods sent a false vision to me also. How will he\nface them, I wonder, with the blood of Egypt on his hands, and with\nwhat voice will he tell them of their desecrated shrines?\"\n\n\"I know not, Master, yet it was written that because of her apostasies\nand sins Egypt must fall. Can the gods, then, be wroth with their own\ninstrument?\"\n\nNoot pondered awhile, shaking his head, then answered,\n\n\"Go ask that question of the Sphinx who sits yonder in the sand by the\npyramids of the ancient kings brooding, as the legend says, over the\nsecrets of earth and heaven. Or,\" he added slowly, \"when your own days\nare done, Ayesha, ask it of your soul. Perchance then some god will\nmake clear the riddle of the world below, but here on earth it cannot\nbe answered, since he who could read it would know all things and be\nhimself a god. Sin must come, and to sin, sinners are necessary. But\nto what sin is necessary, I do not know, unless it be that from it\ngood is born at last. At least the sinner can plead that he is but an\narrow on the bow of Destiny and that the arrow must fly where the\nshooter aims, even though it drinks innocent blood, widows women, and\nmakes children fatherless.\"\n\n\"Mayhap, my Master, it will be answered to this arrow that it\nfashioned itself to deal out death; that it grew the wood and forged\nthe barb and bound upon its shaft the feathers of desire; which wood,\nhad it chosen otherwise, here or elsewhere might have flourished--a\ntree bearing fruits--or as seasoned wood, shaped itself to be a staff\nto lean upon or a rod of justice in the hands of kings.\"\n\n\"You are wise, Ayesha, nor have I instructed you in vain,\" he replied\nwith a gentle smile. \"Yet I repeat, when for the last time you watch\nthe sun sink and your soul prepares to follow it over the edge of the\nworld, then again propound to it this riddle and hear the answer of\nthat invisible Sphinx which broods in the heaven above, on the earth\nbelow, and in the breast of every child it bears.\"\n\nThus he spoke and waved his hand, making an end of that debate. Nor\nhave I ever forgotten it, or his words, and now when sometimes I feel\nor hope soon I, even I, the half-immortal, may see the sun sink for\nthe last time, once more, as Noot commanded, I ask this riddle of the\nSphinx that broods within my instructed spirit, and wait its answer.\nFor alas and alas! how am I better than Nectanebes? He betrayed the\ngods. Have I not betrayed the gods who were nearer to me than ever\nthey came to his coarse and gluttonous soul? He shed blood to satisfy\nhis rage and lust. Have I not shed blood and shall I not perchance\nshed more of it before all is done, when my unconquerable appetites\nare on me and there is a dear prize that I would win? He fled with the\ntreasures of Egypt to waste them in the desert sand. Have I not fled\nwith the treasures that were given me--with the jewelled crowns of my\nwisdom, with the golden talents of my heaped-up learning, with the\nalabaster vessel of my beauty, with the perfumes of my power and my\neloquence--that drilled, ordered, and massed together, and added to\nthe greatest gift of all, my length of undying days, might have\nreformed the world and led it into peace?\n\nHave I, Ayesha, not fled with all these countless splendours clasped\nupon my breast, and buried them in the wilderness, as did Nectanebes\nwith Egypt's wealth, before the barbarians slew him? Have I not done\nthese things because of a great desire and because, robbed of that\ndesire, the world I should have guided was gall to my tongue and\ngravel to my teeth? Yet was I to blame? Was not that blind man I loved\nto blame who could not see with his darkened, fleshly eyes the glory\nthat lay within his grasp and thus stirred my soul to madness? Was not\nthe woman to blame also who darkened those eyes of his by arts the\nevil gods had given her?\n\nOh! I know not. Perchance they too can put up a tale before the\nJudgment Seat which I shall find it hard to answer, for they too are\nas they were made, or as they made themselves, shaping their own\narrows from the wood of circumstance that grew I know not where. And\nnow my desire has drawn near to me again; it gleams, a glittering\nfruit, upon the Tree of Life, and I stretch out my hand to pluck it.\nYes, I stand on tiptoe and almost reach it with my finger-tips. Yet\nwhat if it prove a corruption? What if it crumble into dust, rotted by\nthe great sun of my spirit, withered at the fingering of my undying\nhand?\n\nOh! my lord hunts upon the mountain after the fashion of men, and\nAtene, once named Amenartas, sits in her dark beauty in the City of\nthe Plains and, as aforetime, plots my ruin and her fleshly theft. Who\nknows the end? But there within my soul broods the Sphinx smiling its\nimmortal smile and to it soon or late I must put that question to\nwhich Noot, the holy and half divine, could give no answer--or would\nnot if he could.\n\n\n\"What of the royal Princess, Amenartas?\" I asked. \"Know, Master, that\nI grow weary of this woman.\"\n\n\"Aye, Daughter, these temple courts are wide, but not wide enough for\nboth of you. Take comfort, she sails to-morrow.\"\n\n\"North?\" I asked.\n\n\"Nay, south with her father, Nectanebes. Or so she tells me, saying\nthat his fortune shall be her own and that together they will reign or\nfall.\"\n\n\"It is well,\" I answered.\n\nThen we talked of humble matters that had to do with the shrine of the\ngoddess and of the hiding away of her treasures lest the Persians\nshould take them. When all was finished, Noot rose, blessed me,\ncalling on the Powers above to protect me, and went his ways in the\nship _Hapi_ which he had purchased to bring it to my aid at Sidon, nor\ndid I guess that for years I should see him no more. Yet I think he\nknew it well.\n\n\nLike a mighty river in its flood the Persian hosts poured down on\nMemphis. As such a torrent sweeps away the village and the humble\nhomestead, drowns the cattle, twists out the palm trees by their\nroots, covers the corn with slime, floods cities, palaces, and\ntemples, chokes the breath from their inhabitants and strews the kind\nearth with the corpses of those that tilled it, so did Ochus and his\nbarbarians to Egypt. Rapine and massacre, flames of fire and misery\nmarked their path. Men were butchered by the thousand, the aged and\nwomen who were no longer fair were driven into the desert to starve.\nYes, it was the sport of those Persians to drive them like game to\nwhere there was no water, and then watch them die of thirst beneath\nthe burning sun. Only the young women were spared to be concubines or\nslaves, and the flower of the children to be put to vile purposes. The\ncities and the temples were pillaged, their citizens tortured to drag\nfrom them the secret of the hiding-places of treasure, the priests\nwere forced to sacrifice to the god of fire and to spit upon their own\nor die, the priestesses were burned or defiled, or both.\n\nSo pitiful was the case of Egypt that although I knew that by her sins\nand faithlessness she had brought these woes upon herself, I who by my\nwork at Sidon had become one of the appointed ministers of her\ndestruction, my heart wept for her and I prayed the avenging gods to\nhold their hands. Also I prayed them to give Ochus to drink of his own\ncup and to make of me the butler who mixed his wine. Nor did I pray in\nvain.\n\nThus the red Ochus came at length to Memphis, the white-walled city,\nthe ancient, the holy, and filled its streets with horror, till they\nwere spread thick with dead and one wail of woe went up to heaven. Yet\nhe did not burn the place, perchance because our prayers availed and\nthe gods relented, perchance because he wished to keep it to be the\nseat of his majesty. Only here as elsewhere he sacked the temples and\nwrought sacrilege.\n\nFrom the pylon top of the temple of Isis that overlooked the courts of\nthat of Ptah and the gilded stable of the bull Apis, with my own eyes\nI saw the Persians, for in this business the Greeks would have no\nhand, drag out the sacred beast whom they held to be a god of the\nEgyptians, though in truth he was but the emblem of the god, or rather\nof the generating power that is in Nature, and butcher it with jeers\nand mockery. More, their scullions came and cooked the sacred flesh\nafter which, at tables spread in the inner court, Ochus and his\ncaptains ate it, forcing the priests of Ptah to \"taste of their own\ngod\" and to drink of the liquor in which it had been seethed. They\nwere cowards, those priests, or surely they would have found means to\nmix the broth with poison.\n\nAfter the feast, when all the revellers were drunk with wine, a great\njackass was brought and, the statue of the god having been thrown out\nof it, was stabled in the sanctuary.\n\nSuch were some of the things that were done in Memphis and indeed\nthroughout Egypt, for as Apis was served, so was the holy ram of\nMendes. Moreover, other things were done too shameful to record.\n\nNow all this while I sat in the temple of Isis awaiting what might\nbefall. I will not say that I was unafraid, because I was afraid. Yet\nwithin me was that proud spirit which forbade me to show my fear.\nMoreover, within me also burned a certain fire of faith whereof the\nlight was my guide in the darkness of despair. The holy Noot, my\nMaster, had told me that I and those with me should take no harm, and\nI would not doubt my Master. Moreover, when I prayed at night, a voice\nfrom heaven speaking in my heart seemed to command me to be brave,\nsince there fought for me and mine those whom I could not see.\n\nSo there I sat quite alone with none to counsel me and none to help\nme, giving courage as best I could to those poor priests and\npriestesses, my fellow servants of the goddess. The worship of the\ntemple went on as before, each morn the statue of the Mother was\ndecked and dressed, the perfumes were poured, the offerings were made,\nthe processions wound round the courts preceded by the singers and the\nshakers of the _sistrum_, while at night the holy hymns were chanted\nto the stars.\n\nThe Persians came to know of these things and gathered at the gates,\namazed.\n\n\"Who are these,\" they asked, \"who have no fear?\"\n\nBut we answered nothing though death stared us in the face.\n\nThe matter reached the ears of Ochus and stirred his wonder, so that\nin the end he came in person to visit the temple. I received him in\nthe great hall, veiled and seated in a chair of state that was set at\nthe foot of a statue of the goddess. With him were sundry of his great\nlords dressed in silks and perfumed, also the general Mentor whom I\nhad known at Sidon where he played traitor, deserting with his Greeks\nto the Persians. Further there was present Bagoas the eunuch and first\ncouncillor of the King of kings, who commanded his army also; like all\nthese unfortunates, a fat, shrill-voiced man with a smooth and furtive\nmanner, who waved his long hands to and fro when he spoke.\n\nNow this Bagoas was by birth Egyptian; so I had heard, and my first\nsight of him confirmed the tale. Yes, without doubt by birth he was an\nEgyptian of the small-boned, large-eyed, round-headed type that had\ndescended from the ancient blood, as I knew by the statues of many\nthat I have seen taken from the earliest tombs before it became the\ncustom to embalm the dead. I noted this, and at once a thought came to\nme.\n\nWould an Egyptian desire to see the sanctuary of Isis and her priests\ndesecrated and destroyed? Perchance he did not worship Ptah or Apis,\nor other of the gods, but all born upon the Nile venerated Mother\nIsis, the Queen of Heaven, and bowed to her sovereignty. That was a\nfaith which where'er they wandered and upon whatever altars they\nburned incense, they never could forget, because through a hundred\ngenerations it came down to them with their blood. Yet who knew? This\nBagoas, it was said, was a cunning fellow steeped in murder, who from\nhis crimes had reaped a rich reward, and such an one, looking only to\nhis day of glory, might forget even Isis and the wrath to come.\n\nOchus, loose-lipped, cruel-faced, and weary-eyed, wearing a look of\npride that yet was full of haunting terrors, such as are ever the\ncompanions of murderers who know that in a day unborn surely\nthemselves they will be murdered, stood before me. I, rising from my\nchair, made obeisance to the King of kings--and had he but known it,\ncast the curse of Isis at him from beneath my veil.\n\n\"What is this?\" he asked, speaking in Greek, in the thick voice of one\nwho has drunk well at the feast, and pointing at me with his sceptre.\n\"Is it one of those wrapped bodies that we drag from the tombs, such\nas we used for the cooking of the god Apis, broiling him with his own\nworshippers? Nay, for it moves and talks and seems to have the shape\nof woman. Bagoas, strip that veiled thing naked, that we may see\nwhether it be a woman, and if so, of what favour.\"\n\nNow when I, Ayesha, heard this, at once all my courage came back to\nme, as ever it does when peril gets me by the throat. At once I laid\nmy plan, which was short and simple.\n\nIf that eunuch so much as advanced to lay a finger on me, I would draw\nthe knife that hung to my girdle, the curved, razor-edged Arab knife\nthat had been my father's, and thrusting him aside, I would spring\npast him and strike it through the heart of yonder King of kings,\nsending him to sum up his account with Isis. Then if there were time,\nI would serve Bagoas in the same way, and afterward, if must be, use\nthe knife upon myself. Better thus than that I should be shamed before\nthese barbarians.\n\nI spoke no word and my face was hid, yet I think that out of my soul\nsprang something which warned these two of their danger. Or perchance\nit was my guardian spirit that warned them. At the least Bagoas went\ndown upon his knees and bowed till his forehead touched the ground.\n\n\"O King of kings,\" he said, \"I pray thee command not thy slave to do\nthis deed. Yonder lady is the prophetess of Isis, Queen of all gods,\nQueen of Heaven and Earth, and to touch her with an unhallowed hand is\na sacrilege that brings death in this world and in that to come\neverlasting torment.\"\n\nNow Ochus laughed brutally, then turned and asked,\n\n\"What do you say, Mentor, who are a Greek and know no more of the gods\nof Egypt than I do? Is there any reason why we should not strip this\nveiled priestess and discover what she is like beneath those\nwrappings?\"\n\nNow Mentor rubbed his brow and answered,\n\n\"Since I am asked, O King of kings, one does come into my mind. Do you\nremember Tenes, King of the Sidonians? He took this same prophetess as\na gift from Nectanebes, and also wished to strip her in his fashion.\nWell, Tenes came to a very bad end, and so did Nectanebes who gave her\nto him, or is in the way of it. Therefore, O King of kings, were I in\nyour place, I should advise that she remain veiled, who perhaps after\nall is but an ugly old woman. I have known little of Isis, still she\nis a goddess with a great name and perchance it is scarcely worth\nwhile to risk her wrath to look at the wrinkled flesh of an ugly old\nwoman. One never knows, O King of kings, and I have seen so much of it\nof late that I come to learn that death, with the curse of Heaven\nthrown in, is a bad business.\"\n\nThus spoke Mentor in his bluff, rambling, soldier talk, that yet was\nso full of Grecian cunning, and Ochus, appearing suddenly to grow\nsober, listened to him.\n\n\"I seem to remember,\" Ochus said, \"that this same priestess served me\nwell yonder at Sidon, giving the Ph\u0153nician dog, Tenes, counsel that\nled him down to ruin. So at least the tale runs. Therefore, not\nbecause of the Egyptian goddess whom I despise,\" and he spat on the\nstatue of Isis, an act at which I saw Bagoas shiver, \"or for the\nreasons that you fools give, but because by design or chance, I know\nnot which, she served me well at Sidon, let her continue to wear her\nveil. I command also that this temple, which is beautiful in its\nfashion, shall not be burned or harmed, and that those who serve it\nmay continue to dwell there and carry on their mad worship as it\npleases them, provided that they stay within its walls and do not\nattempt to stir up the people by pageantry in the streets. In token\nthereof I stretch out my sceptre,\" and he held the ivory-headed wand\nhe carried toward me.\n\nBagoas whispered to me that I must touch it, so I thrust my arm\nbetween the folds of my veil and did so, though next instant I\nremembered that it would have been wiser to grasp the wand from\nbeneath the veil.\n\nAt once Ochus noted the beauty of that arm and exclaimed with a laugh,\n\n\"By the holy fire! yonder hand and wrist are not those of an ugly old\nwoman, such as was spoken of by you slaves, but rather those of one\nwho is still young and fair. Had I seen them but a moment gone, surely\nshe should have been stripped. Indeed----\"\n\n\"I have touched the sceptre of the Great King,\" I broke in coldly.\n\"Once the sceptre has been touched the decree of the Great King may\nnot be altered.\"\n\n\"Wise also,\" said Ochus, \"for she knows our Persian laws. Well, she is\nright. The sceptre has been touched and what has been said cannot be\nchanged. See now, all of you who are ignorant, how good a shield is\nwisdom. Come, Mentor, let us be going to make sport with those young\npriestesses of Ammon who, not being wise, but only pretty, await us in\nthe palace. It will be a merry night. Bagoas, bide you here, lest you\nshould be shocked,\" and he laughed brutally, \"also to inquire whether\nthis heavenly harlot called Isis decks herself with jewels, for if so,\nas to them I swore no oath. Farewell, Priestess. Continue to be wise\nand to wear a veil, because if the rest of you is as shapely as your\nhand, who knows but that some night when wine has drowned all\npromises, I, or others, might cause you to be stripped at last.\"\n\nThen he turned and went, followed by his foul company. Only Bagoas\nremained behind as he had been bidden.\n\nWhen the doors had closed and by the shouts from without the walls I\nknew that the Persians were gone, I said to Bagoas, who was alone with\nme in the place,\n\n\"Tell me, Egyptian, cradled beneath the wings of Isis, are you not\nafraid?\" and I turned my head, glancing at the vile stain upon the\nalabaster statue.\n\n\"Aye, Prophetess,\" he answered, \"I am afraid, as much afraid as you\nwere but now.\"\n\n\"Fool!\" I mocked back at him, \"I was not afraid. Ere ever a hand had\nbeen laid upon me by you, you would have been dead, and that king whom\nyou serve would have been dead also--ask me not how--and by now your\nsouls would be writhing beneath the hooks of the Tormentors of the\nUnder-world. Have you not heard of the curse of Isis, Eunuch, and do\nyou think that your pomp and power can protect you from her swift\nsword? Now, _now_, should I but breathe one prayer to her, she can\nslay you if she wills.\"\n\nHe quaked, he fell upon his knees; yes, this murderer of kings fell\nupon his knees before me, one veiled woman in a shrine, imploring me\nto spare him and to protect him from the wrath of Heaven. For in his\nsoul Bagoas was still Egyptian, and the blood of his forefathers who\nhad worshipped Isis for a thousand years still ran strong in him.\nMoreover, he feared me, the priestess whose fame he knew, as he knew\nthe fate of those who had offended me.\n\n\"Forgiveness! Protection! Methinks these must be most dearly bought,\nBagoas. Are you one of those who have eaten the flesh of Apis and\ndragged the virgins of Ammon from their sanctuary? Are you one of\nthose who have stabled an ass in the temple of Ptah, have burned the\nancient fanes and have butchered the priests upon their altars?\"\n\n\"Alas! I am,\" he said, beating his breast, \"but not of my own will.\nWhat I did I must do, or die.\"\n\n\"It may be so. Make your own peace with those gods if you can. I have\nlittle to do with them who serve the Supreme Mother. But for her what\natonement?\" and again I glanced at the foul stain upon the alabaster\nof the image.\n\n\"That is what I need to be told. What atonement, Prophetess? I will\nswear that there are no jewels here; that the Mother is decked only\nwith flowers and with perfumes. I will guard this shrine so that never\nagain a Persian sets foot within its walls. I will cause any who\noffend you, Prophetess, to die secretly and at once. Is it enough?\"\n\n\"Nay, nor by a hundredth part. You would spare the ceremonial\ntrappings of the Mother, but where is vengeance upon him who defiled\nher with his spittle? You would protect the priestess, but where is\nvengeance upon him who would have stripped her stark to be his sport\nand that of his barbarians? If that is all you have to offer, Bagoas,\ntake the Mother's curse and that of her Oracle, and get you down to\nhell.\" Here Bagoas lifted his hand as though to protect his head and\nbegan to protest, but without heeding him I went on,\n\n\"Hurry not, linger as long as you will upon the road. Deck yourself\nlike a woman with broidered robes, perfume yourself with scents; set\nchains about your neck and jewels upon your fingers. Pander to the\nlusts you cannot share and take your pay in gold and provinces. Poison\nthose you hate and from pure children wring out their lives, because\nthese stand between you and the fruit of some new phantasy. Glut\nyourself with the swine's food of earth, swell yourself out with the\nmarsh-gas of power, and then, Bagoas, die! die! one year, ten years,\nfifty years hence, and get you down to hell and look upon the awful\neyes of the goddess you have shamed, of her whom your forefathers\nworshipped from the beginning, and wait the coming of her priestess,\nthat with every merciless particular she may lay the count against you\nfrom the pavement of the Judgment Hall.\"\n\n\"What, then, shall I do? What shall I do to save my soul? Know,\nPriestess, that I who am maimed in my body would save my soul, and\nthat all these gauds you count are but gall and ashes to me; for\nhaving nought else to gain--being robbed of wives and children I needs\nmust seek them and thus drug the spirit that is within me. Oh! it is\nsomething--being what I am, that I should feel the necks of all these\ngreat ones writhing beneath my foot. Yes,\" here his voice dropped to a\nwhisper, \"even that of the King of kings himself, who forgets that\nthere were other Kings of kings before him. Tell me--what must I do?\"\n\nSecretly I drew the curved knife at my girdle; secretly and unwincing,\nunseen of him, I gashed my arm--oh! I cut deep, for I can see the mark\nto-day, though this fair flesh of mine once seemed to perish in the\nimmortal fire, but to re-arise elsewhere. The blood from a severed\nvein leaped forth and stained my veil, a little mark at first which\ngrew and grew, till it cried of murder. The man's eyes fastened\nthemselves upon the prodigy, for so he thought it; then he asked,\n\n\"Blood! _Whose_ blood?\"\n\n\"Perchance that of the wounded goddess. Perchance that of a shamed\npriestess. What does it matter, Bagoas?\"\n\n\"Blood,\" he went on, \"for what does the blood ask?\"\n\n\"Perchance it cries to Heaven for vengeance; perchance it demands to\nbe washed away with other blood, Bagoas. Who am I that I should\ninterpret parables?\"\n\nNow he understood, and struggling from his knees, bent forward\nwhispering in my ear. Yes, the priceless jewels that hung from his\npointed golden cap jingled against my ear.\n\n\"I understand,\" he said, \"and be sure it shall be done. But not yet.\nIt cannot be yet. Still I swear that it shall be done when the hour is\nripe. I hate him! I say that I hate him who while he showers gifts\nupon me with his hands, mocks me with his tongue, and who, when by my\nwit I win victories for him, jeers at the soldiers who are led by one\nwho is neither man nor woman. Yes, I hate him who, knowing that I am\nof Egypt and in my heart a worshipper of the gods of Egypt, forces me\nto desecrate their shrines and to butcher those who serve them. Oh! I\nswear that it shall be done in its season.\"\n\n\"By what, O Bagoas?\"\n\n\"By this, Prophetess,\" and seizing the dripping veil he rubbed that\nwhich stained it upon his lips and brow, \"I swear by the blood of\nIsis, or of her Priestess and Oracle in whom Isis is, that I will\nneither rest nor stay till I bring Ochus Artaxerxes to his doom. Years\nmay go by, but still I will bring him to his doom--at a price.\"\n\n\"What price?\" I asked.\n\n\"That of absolution, Priestess, which is yours to give.\"\n\n\"Aye, it is mine to give or to withhold. Yet I give it not until Ochus\nlies dead, and by your hand. Then I call it down from Heaven--not\nbefore.\"\n\n\"At least protect me till that hour, O Daughter of the Queen of\nHeaven.\"\n\nFrom the necklace I wore beneath my veil I loosed a certain charm of\npower, the secret symbol of the Queen herself, worked cunningly in\njasper, and known only to the initiate. This I breathed upon and\nblessed.\n\n\"Take it,\" I said, \"and wear it on your heart. It shall protect you\nfrom all ills while your heart is true. But if once that heart turns\nfrom its purpose; aye! even if it fail to accomplish its purpose, then\nthis holy token shall bring all ills upon you, here and hereafter,\nBagoas. For then upon your doomed head shall fall the curse of the\ngoddess that even now hangs suspended over it, as in the Grecian fable\nthe sword of Damocles hangs by its single hair. Take it and be gone,\nto return no more till you come to tell me that Ochus Artaxerxes\ntreads that same road upon which he has set so many feet.\"\n\nBagoas took the talisman and pressed it on his brow, as though it had\nbeen the very signet of the King of kings, and hid it away about him.\nThen he prostrated himself before me, who sat upon a greater throne,\nthat of the Queen of queens, prostrated himself till his forehead\ntouched the ground beneath my feet. Then rising, without another word,\nBagoas withdrew himself with humble obeisances till he reached the\ndoors where he vanished from my sight.\n\n\nWhen the man had gone I, Ayesha, laughed aloud, I who had played a\ngreat game and won it.\n\nYes, I laughed aloud; then, having purified the statue of the goddess\nand burnt incense before it, I went upon my knees and returned my\nhumble thanks to that just Heaven of which I was the minister.\n\n\n CHAPTER XV\n The Plot and the Voice\n\nThe weary years went by. Ochus returned to Persia, bearing his\nspoils with him and leaving one Sabaco, a brutal fellow, to rule Egypt\nand wring tribute from her.\n\nAll this while I, Ayesha, sat alone, quite alone, in the temple of\nIsis at Memphis whose walls I never left, for the command of Ochus was\nobeyed and whatever happened to those of other gods, the shrine of\nIsis was left inviolate. Here, then, surrounded by a dwindling company\nof priests and priestesses, I remained, as Noot, my Master, had\ncommanded me to do, awaiting a word that never came, and carrying on\nthe ceremonies of the temple in such humble fashion as our poverty\nallowed.\n\nWhat did I through all that slow and heavy time? I dreamed, I communed\nwith Heaven above, I studied the ancient lore of Egypt and of other\nlands, growing ever wiser and as full of knowledge as a new-filled jar\nwith perfume or with wine. Yet of what use was this knowledge to me?\nAs it seemed, of none. Yet it was not so, since my heart fed on it\nlike a bee upon its winter store of honey, and without it I should\nhave died, as the bee must die. Moreover, now I understand that this\nspace of waiting was a preparation for those long centuries which\nafterward I was doomed to pass in the tombs of K\u00f4r. It was a training\nand a discipline of the soul.\n\nThus forgotten of the world I brooded and endured, I who had thought\nto rule the world.\n\nSo moon added itself to moon, and, still filled with a divine\npatience, I abode within those temple walls till the appointed hour,\nwhich I knew would dawn at last. Of Nectanebes I heard nothing; he had\nvanished away--I doubted not to the doom which I had foreseen. Of\nAmenartas, his daughter, I heard nothing, she also had vanished away,\nas I supposed with him. Of Kallikrates, the soldier priest, I heard\nnothing. Doubtless he was dead and that beauty of his had turned to\nevil-odoured dust as my own must do, a thought from which I shrank.\n\nMuch I wondered why this man alone upon the earth should have stirred\nmy soul and awakened the longings of my woman's flesh. I knew not,\nunless it was agreed that when the gates were passed I should meet him\nin a world that lies beyond, if such there were. For from the\nbeginning I was sure that it had been laid upon me to lift up his\nspirit to the level of my own, perchance because in some far-off star\nor state I had sinned against it and him and dragged them down.\n\nIndeed is not this the common lot of the great, that with toil and\ntears and bitter disappointment they must strive to draw the spirits\nof others to that high peak upon which themselves they stand? And\namongst all the sins of our vile condition, is there one blacker than\nto cast back some soul that struggles toward the pure and good into\nthe seething depths of ill?\n\nThus in those days I thought of that lost Kallikrates whose lips alone\nhad touched my own. I thought, too, with a sad wonderment, how strange\nit was that I to whose feet men had crept by scores, I the most\nbeautiful of women and the most learned, had been rejected, or at the\nleast turned from by this man, the favourer of another, who although\nshe was fair and bold of heart, still shone with a smaller light, as\ndoes the pale moon when compared with the glory of the sun.\n\nIndeed, now that all was over and done, as I believed, and that nought\nremained of these fires of folly save a pinch of burnt-out ash, I\nsmiled to myself as I remembered them. Yet to tell truth, I smiled\nsadly, who here alone at the dear feast of love which, to a woman,\nmeans more than all other feasts, had been served with the cups of\ndefeat and shame by the grinning varlet, Destiny. Yet I was well\nserved, for what had I, Wisdom's Daughter, the vowed to eternal glory,\nto do with such matters of our common flesh?\n\nOh! I was glad to have done with the gray-eyed Kallikrates, who could\nwield a sword so manly-well in battle, and yet, when remorse took hold\nof him, could pray with the best of priests. Now at least once more I\nwas the mistress of my own soul with leisure to shape it to the\nlikeness of the gods and, in those days of holy contemplation, truly\nits wings beat against their bars, struggling to be free. Would that\nthey had burst them, but Fate had built that cage too strong.\n\n\nAt length news came to me, for Isis still had eyes and ears in Egypt\nand all that these saw or heard I learned, news that Ochus, grown\ntimid or weary in his Persian palace, had determined once more to\ndrink the waters of the Nile, or perchance to check the accounts of\nhis satrap Sabaco whose sum of tribute had fallen off of late.\n\nSo he came with all his Eastern pomp and at last took up his abode in\nthe palace of Memphis within two bowshots of the temple where I dwelt.\nThe people received him with rejoicings; it was pitiful to see them\ndecking themselves and the streets with flowers, spreading branches of\npalm for him to tread on, and flying banners from the lofty tops of\nthe fire-scorched pylons--slaves welcoming their torturer and tyrant\nand grinning to hide the terror in their hearts. He came, and there\nwas festival throughout the great town as though Osiris had returned\nto earth, companied by all the lesser gods.\n\nOnly in the temple of Isis there was none. No palm leaves decked its\nstark and ancient walls, no bonfires burned within its courts, and no\nlanterns hung in its window-places. Not thus would I, Ayesha, bow the\nknee to Baal or sacrifice to Moloch, though it is true that some of my\nservants looked askance when I forbade it and asked who would protect\nus from the wrath of the King of kings because of this neglect of his\ncommand.\n\n\"The goddess will protect us,\" I answered, \"or if she does not, I\nwill,\" and sent them to their tasks.\n\nOn the second night after the coming of Ochus, Bagoas waited on me and\nI commanded that he should enter, but alone. So his Eastern rabble of\ngorgeous servitors was turned back from the gates and he came in\nunattended, splendid in gold-embroidered silk and jewels. Where he had\nleft me, there I received him, seated veiled in the chair of state\nbefore the alabaster statue of the goddess, at the entrance to the\nouter sanctuary that overlooked the great hall.\n\n\"Hail! Bagoas,\" I said, \"how goes it with you? Has that amulet of\npower which I gave to you protected you from harm?\"\n\n\"Prophetess,\" he answered, bowing, \"it has protected me. It has lifted\nme up so that now, save for the King of kings, my master most august,\"\nhe added with a sneer in every word, \"I am now the greatest one in the\nwhole world. I give life, I decree death. I lift up, I cast down;\nsatraps and councillors crawl about my feet; generals beg my favour;\ngold is showered upon me. Yea, I might build my house of gold. There\nis nought left for me to desire beneath the sun.\"\n\n\"Except certain things to which, thanks to the cruelty of the King of\nkings, or those who went before him, you cannot attain? For example,\nchildren to inherit all this glory and all this gold, Bagoas, although\nyou live among so many of those who might be mothers.\"\n\nHe heard, and his face, that I noted had grown thinner and more fierce\nsince last I saw him, became like to that of the devil.\n\n\"Prophetess,\" he hissed, \"surely you are one who knows how to pour\nacid into an open wound.\"\n\n\"That thereby it may be cleansed, Bagoas.\"\n\n\"Yet your words are true,\" he went on, unheeding. \"All this splendour,\nall this wealth and power I would give, and gladly, to be as my\nfathers were before me, gently bred but humbly owners of a patch of\nland between Thebes and Phil\u00e6. There they sat for a score of\ngenerations with their women and their children. But where, thanks to\nthe Persians, are _my_ women and _my_ children? In the western cliff\nyonder there is a sepulchre. In the chapel of that sepulchre above the\ncoffins of those who lie beneath is an image of him who dug it. He\nlived some fourteen hundred years ago in the days of Aahmes, he who\nwon back Egypt from the Hyksos kings, the invaders who held it as the\nPersians do to-day. For he was one of the captains of the troops of\nAahmes who, when he conquered, gave him that patch of land in guerdon\nfor his service.\"\n\nHere Bagoas paused like to one overwhelmed by unhappy memories, then\ncontinued,\n\n\"From age to age, Prophetess, it has been the custom for the children\nof the children of this soldier upon a certain day to make offerings\nto that statue, wherein, as we hold, dwells the _Ka_ of him whose face\nand form it pictures; to set a golden crown, that of Osiris, upon its\nhead, to wind a golden chain about its neck; to give it food, to give\nit flowers. Such is the sacred duty, from generation to generation, of\nthe descendants of that captain who served Aahmes and helped to free\nEgypt from the barbarian foe. Myself I have fulfilled that duty, aye,\nwhen Ochus the Destroyer first came to Memphis, I travelled up Nile\nand placed the crown upon the head and wound the chain about the neck,\nand offered the flowers and the food. But, Prophetess, of this blood I\nam the last, for because of my beauty as a child the Persian seized me\nand made of me a dry tree, so that never again will there be one to\nmake offering in the tomb of my forefather, the captain of Aahmes, or\nto read the story of his deeds that fourteen hundred years ago, while\nyet living, he caused to be recorded upon his funeral tablet.\"\n\nI heard and laughed.\n\n\"A common tale,\" I said, \"a very common tale in Egypt to-day, the\nEgypt of the Persians, as doubtless it was long ago in the Egypt of\nthe Hyksos. But this ancestor of yours was a man who smote, or helped\nto smite, the Hyksos and lived to write his glorious deeds on stone to\nbe an example to those who came after him. Well, the story is\nfinished, is it not? Indeed I wonder that the glorious Bagoas, slave\nof the Persian, Bagoas with his pomp and pleasures, thinks fit to\nwaste time upon the tale of a forgotten warrior who in his hour struck\nfor freedom. What are the flowers and the humble scents which for more\nthan a thousand years have been offered to the spirit of that warrior,\nbut now can never be offered again since there are none of his blood\nleft to bring them, compared to the priceless balms, the jewels and\nthe gold, that daily are poured upon the feet of Bagoas, the Chief\nEunuch and Counsellor of the King of kings, who, did he know of those\nholy ones that sleep in the tomb of the race of Bagoas, doubtless\nwould drag them out and cause Bagoas, the last of its blood, to fire\nthem, that he might see a merry blaze? That would be a good sport for\nthe King of kings, to force the great Bagoas to burn his ancestors and\non their bones to cook a royal meal, as he forced the priests of Ptah\nto broil Apis for his feast.\"\n\nThe mighty Bagoas heard and understood me, as I could see well, for at\nevery word he winced like a high-bred steed beneath the whip.\n\n\"Cease,\" he said hoarsely, \"cease! I can bear no more. Why do you rub\nsand into my eyes, Prophetess?\"\n\n\"To clear away their rheum that they may see the better, Bagoas. But\nlet us be done with the tale of that honourable, long-lost ancestor of\nyours to whose spirit no more offerings will be made, and tell me of\nthe wonders of the great estate of you in whom runs his blood, the\nlast drops of it, that soon will be sucked up in the sands of Death.\nSeal that sepulchre, Bagoas, but first set it in another writing,\ngraven on a tablet of emerald or gold, telling how he who hallowed it\nwas by the gods given the glory of being the far forefather of Bagoas,\nChief Eunuch of the King of kings, Ochus, who burned the shrines of\nthat forefather's gods.\"\n\n\"Cease, cease!\" he moaned. \"The hour is at hand.\"\n\n\"What hour, Bagoas?\"\n\n\"The hour of vengeance which I swore to Isis.\"\n\n\"Does the Egyptian worshipper of the Persian holy Fire remember his\nvows to Isis? Be plain, Bagoas.\"\n\n\"Hearken, Prophetess. During all these years I have been seeking\nopportunity. Now of a sudden I see it to my hand. A thought came to me\nwhilst you talked of the captain of Aahmes to whom no more of his\nblood can make offerings.\"\n\n\"Speak it, then, Bagoas.\"\n\n\"Prophetess, the King of kings is wrath with you, because alone of all\nthe great places in Memphis, on the temple of Isis no welcoming\nbanners hang to greet him at his royal coming and because no priest or\npriestess of Isis spread flowers before his conquering feet. So wrath\nis he that, were it not for his oath, which he fears to break, he\nwould pull this sanctuary stone from stone, slaughter its priests, and\ngive its priestesses to the soldiers.\"\n\n\"Is it so?\" I asked indifferently.\n\n\"Aye, Prophetess. But by that oath you are saved, for ever I keep it\nbefore his mind and warn him of the fate of those who do violence to\nthe Queen of Heaven. Only this morning I did this while he stood\nstaring at these unbannered walls and muttered vengeance.\"\n\n\"And what said he then, Bagoas?\"\n\n\"He laughed and answered that he would do the goddess not violence,\nbut honour, thus. On the third night from this, the night of full\nmoon, he will make a great feast in the inner court of this temple. At\nthat feast the King of kings and his women will sit upon a platform\nlaid over the coffins of the royalties of Egypt dragged from their\nsepulchres, so that its kings and queens may be beneath his feet. This\nplatform will be supported by the statues of the gods of Egypt which\nonce they worshipped. In front of it will burn the holy Fire of Persia\nand that fire will be fed with the mortal remnants of priests and\npriestesses of those Egyptian gods. Ochus the king will be clad in the\nrobes of Osiris, and at the end of the feast from behind her\nconsecrated statue, that before which we sit, the goddess herself,\ndressed in the robes of Isis and wearing the holy emblems upon her\nhead, will appear veiled, led by priestesses or by royal Persian\nwomen. _You_ will be that goddess, Prophetess.\"\n\n\"And then?\" I asked.\n\n\"Then you will be brought up on to the platform and there this new\nOsiris will unveil you, embracing you as his wife in welcome before\nall that company. This he will do to make a mock of you because he\nbelieves you to be an ancient woman who goes veiled to hide her\nbaldness and her wrinkles, for so the rumour runs among the Persians.\"\n\nNow when I, Ayesha, heard these horrible words and my heart understood\nthe height and depth of the sacrilege which this mad king would dare\nand all that it might mean to me, I trembled; yes, the bones seemed to\nmelt within me so that almost I fell from the throne whereon I sat.\nYet gathering up my strength I asked,\n\n\"Is this all, Bagoas?\"\n\n\"Nay. At that feast, Prophetess, I myself as Vizier and the head of\nthe world under him, must serve Ochus as his cup-bearer. While the\npriests of Osiris and the priestesses of Isis sing the ancient chants\nof the awakening of Osiris from the tomb and of his reunion with Isis\nthe Wife Divine, it will be my part to hand the jewelled goblet filled\nwith the holy wine to Osiris-Ochus, King of Heaven and Earth. From it\nhe will drink the marriage draught, and having drunk, will pour the\ndregs of the goblet upon your feet, or for aught I know will cast them\nin your face. Nay, I forgot. First the Persian women of the royal\nhousehold will strip the coverings from you that Osiris may see his\nlong-lost bride and the company may have sport, jeering at her\nwithered age.\"\n\n\"And if she should prove to remain unwithered, if even she should\nchance to be passing fair, what then, Bagoas?\"\n\n\"Then perchance, Prophetess, it is in the mind of Ochus to add Isis to\nthe number of his queens, thinking thus to gain the favour of the\nEgyptians, if not of their gods. Oh! Prophetess, you are very wise, as\nall know, yet once your foot slipped--or rather your hand slipped,\nwhen in bygone days you stretched it out to touch the sceptre of the\nKing of kings. Ochus has often spoken of the beauty of that hand and\narm, and of how, more than all things, he desired to see the face\nabove them and the form of which they are a part. Perchance,\nProphetess, that is why he plans all this mummery.\"\n\n\"And if I refuse to act this play, what then, Bagoas?\"\n\n\"Then since the command is lawful and designed to honour the goddess,\nthe Great King's oath is at an end. Then the temple of Isis will be\nsacked and burned like others, then her priests will be murdered\nunless they make offerings to the holy Fire, and her priestesses be\nenslaved or find a home in the soldiers' tents or Persian households.\"\n\n\"Bagoas,\" I said, rising and standing over him, \"know that the Curse\nof Isis hovers about your head. Show me a path out of this trouble or\nyou die--not to-morrow or next year, but at once. How, it matters not,\nstill you die; and for the rest, are the Sidonians the only ones who\ncan fire their temples and perish in them?\"\n\nHe cringed before me after the fashion of his unhappy kind, then\nanswered,\n\n\"I waited for such words, Prophetess, and had I not been prepared\nagainst them, never would I have entered these gates alone. Did I not\ntell you that at this feast I shall be the King's cup-bearer? Now,\" he\nwent on in a whisper, \"I add that his own physician, who is in my pay,\nwill mix the marriage wine, that his life is in the hollow of my hand;\nthat the guards and captains are my servants; that the great lords are\nsworn to me, and that the hour for which I have waited through long\nyears has come at last. Lady, you are not the only one who desires\nvengeance upon Ochus.\"\n\n\"Fine words,\" I said. \"But how know I that they will be fulfilled? In\nEgypt Bagoas is called the King's Liar.\"\n\n\"I swear it by Isis, and if I fail you, may the Devourer take my\nsoul.\"\n\n\"And I, who am her Mouth and Oracle, swear by Isis that if you fail me\nI will take your blood. Aye, though I die, a thousand will live on to\navenge me, and the dagger or the shaft of one of them shall reach your\nheart at last. Or if they miss their aim then the goddess herself will\nsmite.\"\n\n\"I know it, Prophetess, and I will not fail. After drinking of that\ncup sleep will fall upon the King of kings; yes, the new Osiris will\nreturn to his tomb and sleep sound, but _not in the arms of Isis_.\"\n\nThen for a while there was silence between us, till at length I\nmotioned to him to begone.\n\n\nThe night of the feast came and all was prepared. I did not trust\nBagoas and therefore I made a plan, a splendid and terrible plan. I\ndetermined to offer all those feasters, yes, the King of kings with\nhis women, his generals, his chamberlains, his councillors, and his\ncompany, as one vast sacrifice to the outraged gods of Egypt, and with\nthem if need were, myself and my servants, to guide them upon the road\nto hell.\n\nBeneath that hall of the temple which Ochus had appointed for the\nfeast was a vast vault for the storage of oil and fuel against times\nof want or tumult. This vault, as it chanced, was full to the roof,\nsince in those troublous days I never knew from moon to moon when the\nplace might be besieged. Also in it was much prepared papyrus with\nmany written rolls that for centuries had been hidden there, great\nweight of bitumen such as the embalmers use, a stack of coffins\nprepared by the living to receive their bodies at the end; and lastly\nhundreds of bundles of dried reeds that served to strew the courts.\nWhat more was needed, save to open the air shafts to the hall above\nthat the flames might find full play, and to set in the vault one who\ncould be trusted with a lamp of which the light was hidden, commanded\nat a certain signal to cast it among the oil-soaked reeds and fly?\n\nAs it chanced such an instrument was to my hand, an old,\nfierce-hearted woman in whom ran royal blood, that for hard on seventy\nyears had served as priestess of this temple.\n\nThat very night I summoned the priests and priestesses who remained\nand in the sanctuary under the wings of Isis, I told them all: told\nthem how I purposed to sweep this human dirt of Persians with the red\nbesom of destruction out of the company of the living over the edge of\nthe world into the Avenger's everlasting jaws.\n\nThis band of the faithful hearkened and bowed their cowled heads. Then\nthe first of them, an old priest, asked,\n\n\"Is it decreed that we must eat fire with these swine? If so, we are\nready.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" I answered, \"the secret passage that runs from the back of the\nsanctuary of the ruined temple of Osiris will be unbarred, that\npassage by which in the old days the holy effigy of Osiris was brought\nat the great festival of the Resurrection to be laid upon the breast\nof Isis. By this passage at the first sign of fire, you must flee, as\nI will if I may. But if I come not you will know that the goddess has\ncalled me. At the water-steps of the temple of Osiris boats will be\nwaiting manned by brothers of our faith. In the darkness and the\ntumult, those boats will pass down Nile to the secret shrine that is\ncalled _Isis-among-the-Reeds_, where once, the legend tells, the\ngoddess found the heart of Osiris hidden there by Typhon, the shrine\nupon the isle that none dare visit, no, not even the Persians, because\nit is guarded by the ghosts of the dead, or by spirits sent from the\nUnder-world fashioned like flames of fire. Thither fly and there lie\nhid until the word of Isis comes to you, as come it will.\"\n\nAgain they bowed their cowled heads in the gloomy sanctuary lit by a\nsingle lamp. Then the old priest said,\n\n\"Great is the deed that we shall do, and worthy. Surely the song of it\nshall echo through all the courts of Heaven and the gods themselves\nshall crown our brows with splendour. Yet ere it is decreed, O\nProphetess inspired, let us seek a sign from the Queen immortal that\nsuch is her command.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" I answered, \"let us seek a sign.\"\n\nSo there in the half darkness we chanted the mystic ritual, hand in\nhand before the goddess we chanted it, bowing and swaying, weeping and\npraying, demanding that a sign be given to us who were prepared to die\nthat her splendour might shine forth as a star.\n\nYet no sign came.\n\n\"O Oracle inspired,\" said the old priest, \"it is not enough. Yet in\nyour heart are locked the unutterable Words, the Words of Power, the\nWords of the Opening of the Mouth Divine, that may not be spoken save\nat the last extreme. Are not these words known to you, the Oracle\ninspired?\"\n\n\"They are known to me,\" I answered. \"From Noot I had them under the\nSeven Oaths when I was ordained prophetess; yea, under the Seven\nCurses if those words should be used unworthily, the seven dreadful\ncurses, deer-footed, snake-headed, lion-maned with red fire, that\nshall hunt the betrayer's soul from star to star, till the black vault\nof space falls in and buries Time. Kneel now and bow your heads and\nstop your ears till they be spoken. Then open your ears and hearken.\"\n\nThey knelt in a double row and I, I the Oracle, clothed in the might\nof my Queen, I dared to draw near to her holy effigy gleaming white\nabove us in the darkness of the shrine. Yes, this I dared, not knowing\nwhat would chance. I took the jewelled _sistrum_ of my office; I laid\nit upon the lips of the goddess, I shook it till it chimed before her\nface, I clasped her feet and kissed them.\n\nThen I rose and into her ear I whispered the dreadful Words of Power,\nwhich even now, after so many ages, I dare not so much as shape in the\nhalls of memory. I whispered them and returning to my company of\nkneeling worshippers, I motioned to them to unstop their ears and\nfolding my arms upon my breast, I waited with downcast eyes.\n\nPresently there was a stir in that sanctuary as of beating wings; a\ncold air blew upon us; then a voice spoke, the very voice of Noot my\nMaster, Noot, the holy priest of priests. Said the voice:\n\n\"_Fulfil! It is decreed. Fulfil and fear not!_\"\n\n\"Ye have heard,\" I said.\n\n\"We have heard,\" they answered.\n\n\"Whose voice did ye hear?\" I asked.\n\n\"The voice of Noot, the holy priest of priests who has gone from us,\"\nthey answered.\n\n\"Is it enough?\" I asked.\n\n\"It is enough,\" they answered.\n\n\nThen I departed rejoicing, who knew by this sign that Noot, who spoke\nwith his human voice, still lived upon the earth, and that through him\nit had pleased Heaven to utter its decree.\n\n\n CHAPTER XVI\n The Feast of the King of Kings\n\nIt was the night of the great feast. All day long artificers by\nscores had toiled in the court of the temple. Adown its length tables\nhad been set up and by them couches and benches upon which hundreds of\nthe feasters would lie or sit according to their degree. Near to the\nhead of the court a platform had been built, of which the foundation\nbeams were supported by the statues of gods dragged from a score of\ntemples where they had stood in solemn peace for ages. Yes, there were\nPtah, Ammon, Osiris, Mut, Khonsu, Hathor, Maat, Thoth, Ra, Horus, and\nthe rest, bearing on their sacred brows and headdresses the\neating-table of a heathen horde. But they bore more than this, since\naround and between them and the platform upon which stood this table\nwere laid the coffins of long-dead kings or queens, and other great\nones, torn, it was said, from the pyramids or their surrounding tombs.\nDark with the dust of ages there they lay, some of them uncovered, so\nas to reveal the grim shapes that slept within.\n\nAbove these again was placed the wide platform carpeted with purple\ncloth of Tyre, and on it stood the board and gilded furniture of the\nfeast. Here, too, was a golden throne at the back of which was a\npeacock fan of jewels, while to its front was set a table fashioned of\nblack wood inlaid with ivory, and around it other smaller thrones and\ntables. These were the seats of the King of kings and some of his\nfavoured women.\n\nNor was this all, for in an outer court but within the pylon gates,\ncooks and scullions had built fires whereon they dressed meats, and\nbutlers set out their store of wines. Never before within the memory\nof man had so strange and rich a feast been seen in Egypt as that\nwhich was now preparing in the courts of Isis, to defile which with\nthe smell of flesh was a sacrilege and the eating of it there an\nabomination.\n\nWhen the sun had turned toward the west came Bagoas with other eunuchs\nand chamberlains, and being admitted to the inner courts, summoned our\ncompany and issued his commands as to the ceremonial that we must\nkeep. We hearkened meekly, saying that we were the slaves of the King\nof kings, we and our goddess together, and in all things would obey\nhis words.\n\nThen they went away, but as he passed me, affecting to stumble, he\nwhispered in my ear,\n\n\"Be not afraid, Prophetess. All is well and the end shall be good.\"\n\n\"I am not afraid, Eunuch,\" I answered, \"who know that all is well and\nthat the end will be good.\"\n\n\nThe night fell; great flares of light set upon stands of bronze were\nlit adown the hall, and with them countless lamps placed at intervals\nalong the tables. The feasters gathered; they came by scores and\nhundreds; Persian lords in their rich robes, generals and captains in\ntheir armour, merchants of many lands, Egyptian apostates, and I know\nnot who besides, men, all of them, whom it pleased the King of kings\nto honour. They were marshalled in their appointed places by the\nstewards and butlers, and there waited in silence, or speaking only in\nlow voices.\n\nFrom behind the curtains of the outer sanctuary I and my company\nwatched it all. These were clad in their festal garments of white,\ngarlanded with flowers. But I, according to command, wore the glorious\nrobes of Isis beneath my veil, and on my head the vulture cap of Isis,\nthe golden Ur\u00e6us, the earrings and the crescent of the moon.\nMoreover, about my bosom were hung the sacred necklaces and the other\njewelled emblems of the goddess, while in my hands I held the\n_sistrum_ and the Cross of Life.\n\nTrumpets blew announcing the advent of the King of kings. Up the long\nhall he marched, clad in the mummy wrappings of Osiris, somewhat\nwidened at the feet so that he might walk in them, wearing on his head\nthe tall feathered crown and holding in his hands the Crook of\nDominion and the Scourge of Rule. His chamberlains and great officers\nled him by a stairway to the platform that was built above the bodies\nof ancient kings, where was set a tiny altar upon which burned the\nHoly Persian Fire. There for a while he stood in pride, waving the\nscourge with which he flogged the world, while all that company fell\nupon their faces and adored him as a god, after which they lay still\nas corpses in the grave.\n\nIt was strange to see them lying on their faces like dead men, who\nindeed soon were to be dead, every one of them, and adoring this human\nimage, this dressed-up doll, fashioned in their own likeness, to be\nthe plaything of the gods and about to be broken by them and cast upon\nthe rubbish heap of time.\n\nI, Ayesha, watching through the veil and alive with that spirit which\nin the hour of great events comes to such as I am, thought it very\nstrange; so strange that I could have laughed. For there in this mime,\nthis puppet king upon the platform, with the tame tiger, Bagoas, that\nwas about to tear out his throat, crouching at his feet, I saw the\nvery type of all grandeur that is built of clay and not of spirit,\nsince assuredly there is one grandeur of the earth and another of the\nspirit. Whether by the poison of Bagoas or by the fire of Isis, yonder\nman who stood triumphing over the mighty monarchs that lay coffined\nbeneath his feet, like a wind-filled toad upon a consecrated altar,\nwas about to die and then what of his triumph and what of his pomp?\n\nHis cup of blood was full, and when the blast of doom overturned it\ninto the sands of Death, what tongues would it take, I wondered, in\nwhich to urge a million accusations against his trembling soul?\nLastly, what mocking devil had persuaded him to don the robes of\nOsiris, that in them he might do insult to Isis who, whate'er she may\nnot be, at least under her royal name of Nature is the mighty vassal\nof the Most High, forgetting that Osiris is the god of Death and that\nIsis-Nature ever avenges herself upon those who violate her laws?\nLittle wonder then that I who laughed but seldom in those days did so\nin my heart, while my eyes took their fill of the tinselled panoply of\nthis lost madman.\n\nOchus-Osiris waved his sceptre, and the seeming dead who lay around\nhim, as they had been drilled to do by those who planned this play,\ncame to life in a grim mockery of ghosts called from the grave. They\nrose up and each, according to his degree, took his place at this\nTable of Osiris brought to earth.\n\nThe feast went on; they ate much; they drank more, till their brains\nwere bemused with wine and scarce could they stand upon their feet. At\nlength the climax came; the coping-stone was set upon this black\npyramid of mortal sin against the spirit of Divinity.\n\nOchus rose, waving the Crook of Dominion.\n\n\"Osiris is risen again in Egypt!\" he cried. \"Let his wife, the divine\nIsis, be brought forth that he may drink with her the cup of marriage\nand embrace her as her husband.\"\n\nThereon that ribald company shouted,\n\n\"Yea, the god Osiris is risen again in Egypt. Bring out Queen Isis.\nBring her out, that we may see her drink with him and be kissed!\"\n\nGuards summoned us. We came forth from the curtained sanctuary,\nwhite-robed in simple state. Singing the ancient hymn of Reunion to\nthe music of harps and of shaken _sistra_, our company came forth into\nthe great hall, I at the head of them. We walked into the hall, a\nsolemn troop at whom the drunken feasters forgot to mock; indeed some\nof them bowed their heads as though in awe. We came to the dais that\nwas supported by the statues of the gods of Egypt and platformed with\nher ancient royalties, and here we halted. Guards led me up a stairway\nso that I stood upon the platform, facing Ochus-Osiris. He spoke,\nsaying, mockingly,\n\n\"Hail! Queen of Heaven. Behold Osiris re-arisen on the Nile has found\nyou at last. Unveil, Queen of Heaven, that he may look upon your\nglory, for as goddesses do not grow old, doubtless you are glorious.\"\n\nAt these words of insult the company broke into coarse laughter. I\nwaited till it had died away, then answered,\n\n\"O King wrapped in the robes of a greater king, yea, in the robes of\nDeath, have you not heard that it is very dangerous to draw the veil\nof Isis, that none, indeed, has drawn it and lived? You think me but a\nwoman, but know that here in the shrine of Isis, aye, here in her holy\nHouse which you desecrate with revellings and with the flesh of\nbutchered beasts, I, her Prophetess and Oracle, am the very goddess\nand clothed with her divinity. I pray you, therefore, think again ere\nyou bid me to draw my veil.\"\n\nFor a moment he seemed to grow afraid, as did that company, for they\nwere silent. Then rage took hold of him who was full of wine and\npride.\n\n\"What?\" he shouted. \"Am I, the King of the world, to be defied and\nthreatened by an old hag who calls herself a priestess, or a goddess,\nor both? Woman, once before I listened to your prayer and left you\nwrapped in that rag, but now when I come both as your king and as your\ngod, why I claim the privilege of the god. Off with that veil or I\nwill bid my women strip you stark.\"\n\nAgain the silence fell, and for a little while I looked about me. I\nlooked at the feasters illumined by the strong flares of the essence\nof bitumen; I looked at the blue heaven above in which the great moon\nfloated royally; I turned and looked at the white statue of the\ngoddess showing faint and pure between the curtains in the darkness of\nthe distant shrine beyond. Then I lifted my head and prayed aloud,\nsaying,\n\n\"O Thou, that from thy moon-throne watchest all things passing on the\nearth, O Thou, great Spirit of the world whom men name Isis, Thou that\ncanst spare; Thou that canst avenge; Thou that knowest both life and\ndeath; Thou that rulest hearts and destinies; Thou to whose equal\nsight the king is as the slave, since both kings and slaves are but\ndust beneath thine immortal feet, hear me, thy priestess and thine\nOracle. Thou knowest my strait and that of these thy servants over\nwhom I rule beneath thee. Protect me and them, if thou wilt, or if\nthou wilt not, then take us to thyself. I ask nothing of thee; I seek\nnot to turn the chariot wheels of Fate; judge thou of my cause who\nwith thy judgment am content. In thine hands hang the scales of doom\nand the great worlds are thy weights. Who then am I that I should seek\nto press upon thy balances? Judge now between me, O Mother Isis, and\nthis death-attired king who mocks thee, the Queen of Heaven, in\nmocking me, thy servitor on earth.\"\n\n\"Have done, woman!\" mocked Ochus. \"Cease your whimperings to a goddess\nsitting in the moon, for she is far away from you--and unveil. Bagoas,\ngive me the Marriage Cup, that I may drink to this new wife of mine,\nwho thinks herself divine.\"\n\nBagoas beckoned and a dark-faced, black-bearded man whom I knew for\nthe king's physician came forward with a golden goblet on which were\nvile carvings of the loves of satyrs. This he tasted, or affected to\ntaste, with much ceremony, and as he did so, though save I none noted\nit, let fall the poison into the wine. Then with humble steps, lifting\nthe cup thrice, lowering it again thrice, doubtless to mix the venom\nwith the wine, he came to the Presence and kneeling, presented the\ngoblet to his master, the King of kings, the King of the world.\n\n\"Now,\" said the drink-besotted Ochus as he grasped the goblet, \"now,\nPriestess, will you unveil or must I call the women?\"\n\n\"It is not needful,\" I answered. \"Yet, O most glorious monarch, yet, O\nconqueror of all things, first I would add one word. Even a king so\ngreat that he dares to clothe himself in the raiment of the Lord of\nDeath perchance may err from time to time. Thus, Mighty One, do you\nerr when you say that Isis is far from me, for Isis is here and _I am\nIsis_.\"\n\nThen at a word two priestesses sprang to my side and loosed me of my\nveil. It fell to the ground and there I stood before them clad in all\nthe splendid pomp of Isis, beautiful as Isis, with the terrible eyes\nof Isis, and holding in my hands the emblems of Isis and the sceptre\nwith which Isis ruled the world.\n\nThey saw, and from that crowded hall there went up a sigh of\nwonder--or was it of fear? Ochus saw also; his eyes started, his mouth\nopened.\n\n\"By the holy Fire!\" he muttered, \"here is one worth wedding, be she\ngoddess or woman.\"\n\n\"Then drink the cup, O Ochus-Osiris, and take her, be she goddess or\nwoman,\" I answered, pointing at him with the Cross of Life.\n\nHe drank, he drank deep, and forgetting to offer the wine to me,\nloosed the goblet from his hand so that it fell upon the little altar\nwhere burned the holy Fire, extinguishing it, and thence rolled from\nthe platform to the ground. I glanced at Bagoas and read in his eyes\nsuch a look as I had never seen upon the face of man. Oh! it was\ncruel, that look--cruel yet triumphant, this cold stare of the victim\nwho had become a conqueror. All hell was in that look.\n\nThe feasters murmured at the omen of the death of the Fire, but that\ndraught seemed to sober Ochus, who took no heed of it. The wildness\nleft his eyes; they grew cunning as those of a merchant. Merchant-like\nhe appraised my loveliness seen through the gauzy wrappings such as\nare used to deck the painted effigy of the goddess.\n\n\"I look before I take,\" he said. \"'Twas good to win Egypt; it will be\nbetter to win you, O Divine in flesh if not in spirit. Now I\nunderstand why in the past you would not suffer me to draw your veil.\"\n\nThus he spoke slowly, savouring the words upon his tongue as his\ngreedy eyes savoured my beauty. Then he rose to pass the small altar\nand advance upon me.\n\nIn that fierce moment of time I considered all. It came into my mind\nthat Bagoas had tricked me; that his cup lacked poison, or at least\nthat the plan had failed, and that if I was to be saved it must be by\nmyself. Yet I paused ere I did that which would cause the death of\nhundreds.\n\n\"Stay!\" I said to him. \"Lay no finger on me lest you shall call the\ncurse of Isis upon your head.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" he answered, \"it is the blessing of Isis that I am about to\ncall upon my lips, O most Beautiful, O Loveliness incarnate!\"\n\nHe came on. He was past the marble altar. His fierce, bestial face\nglared into mine and he gripped me; his hot arm was about me, he\ndragged me to his embrace, while all the beasts of his company shouted\nin vile joy.\n\nI let fall the _sistrum_ that I held. The moment of mercy had gone by.\nThat shout had sealed the doom of all those dogs and satyrs. It was\nthe signal!\n\nBy the arts known to us instantly the command was passed on to her who\nwaited below. Instantly this fierce-souled destroyer was at her work\nwith lamp and torch. Never did lover run so swiftly to her lover's\nside as she did from pile to pile, firing the oil, firing the reeds.\n\nNow that brute-king had me! He pressed his hot kisses upon my breast,\nupon my lips. I stood still. I struggled not. I stood like the statue\nof the goddess. This cold calm of mine seemed to frighten him.\n\n\"Are you woman?\" he asked, hesitating.\n\n\"Nay,\" I hissed back, \"I am Isis. Woe to them who lay hands upon\nIsis!\"\n\nHe unloosed. He stood staring at me, and as he stared I saw his face\nchange.\n\n\"What is in your eyes?\" he asked. \"All the devils in Egypt are looking\nout of your eyes.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" I answered, \"all the devils of hell look out of my eyes. Isis\ncommands the devils of hell and unchains them, O death-clothed king.\"\n\n\"What do you mean? What do you mean?\" he asked.\n\n\"That you will learn presently--in hell. Therefore bid farewell to the\nworld, O Corpse of a king!\"\n\nHe glowered at me. He swayed to and fro. Then suddenly down he went\nlike one pierced through the heart with an arrow. There he lay upon\nhis back across the altar staring up at the moon.\n\n\"Isis is in the moon!\" he cried. \"She threatens me from the moon.\nPersians, be afraid of Isis the Moon-dweller. Bagoas! Physician!\nPhysician! Bagoas! protect me from Isis. She is wringing my heart with\nher hands. Witch! Witch! loose my heart from your hands.\"\n\nThus he wailed in a horrible voice and these were his last words, for\nhaving spoken them he lifted his head, glaring about him with a\ntwisted mouth, then let it fall heavily, rolled to the platform, and\nwas still.\n\nBagoas and the physician ran to him.\n\n\"The Curse of Isis has fallen upon the King of kings,\" cried Bagoas.\n\n\"He who bestrode the world is dead, smitten by Isis of the Egyptians!\"\ncried the physician.\n\nFrom the royal women and all that company there went up a wail of:\n\n\"Ochus is dead! Artaxerxes is dead! The King of kings is dead!\"\n\nBagoas and the physician, helped by the wailing women of Ochus, lifted\nthe body. They carried it from the platform, they bore it down the\nhall, they vanished with it into the darkness, and presently in the\nutter silence I heard the gates of the courts and the outer gates of\nthe pylon clang behind them and the clashing of the bolts as they were\nshot by the guards of the gates.\n\nStill for awhile the silence held, for all were like dead men with\nterror. Then a voice cried,\n\n\"The witch has killed the king with her kiss! Slay her. Tear her to\npieces. Slay her and her company!\"\n\nThe spell-bound mob began to stir; I heard swords rattling in their\nscabbards. They rose like waves on a quiet sea, and like a wave began\nto flow toward the platform on which I now stood alone. I stooped\ndown, lifted the _sistrum_ from the platform, and held it toward them.\n\n\"Be warned!\" I cried. \"Stay still lest the Curse of Isis fall on you\nalso.\"\n\n\"Witch! Witch! Witch!\" they screamed, hesitating awhile, and again\nswayed forward.\n\nI waved my arm, and as though in answer to it from the grating of\nstone beyond the platform suddenly arose dense smoke followed by\nbursts of flame. I waved it a second time, and from the gratings at\nthe end of the hall arose smoke followed by bursts of flame. They\nlooked, they saw, they understood.\n\n\"The Curse of Isis!\" they screamed. \"The Curse of Isis is upon us!\nFire rises from hell.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" I answered, \"fire falls from Heaven sent by the outraged gods!\"\n\nNow between me and them flared a fence of flame which the boldest\ndared not face. They paused, one hurled a sword at me which passed\nabove my head. Then they turned, flying for the gateways of the hall,\nand there were met by another fence of flame. Some of the boldest\nleapt through it only to find that the gates were shut and that the\nterror-stricken guards had fled. They rushed back, burning, yea, their\nsilken robes and their oil-anointed hair turned them, yet living, into\ntorches. Now they took another counsel. They dragged the tables\ntogether, piling them each on each and striving thus to climb the\nwalls of the hall. This, perhaps, they might have done, some of them,\nhad not every man pulled down his neighbour, so that they fell in\ntumbled heaps upon the stone flooring where the life was trampled out\nof them.\n\nI turned and behind the veil of smoke fled from the platform, none\nseeing me, back behind the hangings that hid the outer sanctuary,\nwhere all the company of Isis was gathered, save only that fierce old\npriestess who yet with lamp and torch lit fire upon fire in the vaults\nbeneath and, at last, doubtless, passed to Heaven on the chariot\nwheels of flame.\n\nHere my servants stripped off my sacred trappings, wrapping me in dark\ngarments and a hooded cloak. While they did so I looked back. The hall\nwas filled with spouts of fire. The platform upon which Ochus had\nfeasted was burning and the royal dead beneath blazed merrily. Only\nthe stone gods by whom it was upborne still stared silent and dreadful\nthrough the vesture of smoke and fire, emblems of vengeance and\neternal doom.\n\nI could see no more but above the roaring flames I heard the mad\nscreams of those trapped feasters who had come to see their king make\na mock of Isis and her priestess, and these were terrible to hear.\nThen the floor gave way and down they went into the furnace pit\nbeneath. Yes, they who worshipped fire were devoured of their own god.\n\n\nThus did I, Ayesha, Child-of-Wisdom, daughter of Yarab according to\nthe flesh, work the vengeance of Heaven upon the Persians and their\nKing of kings. By fire I wrought it, I whose path ever was and ever\nshall be marked by fire; I, Ayesha, who grew undying in the breath of\nfire and who, in the caverns of K\u00f4r, clasped it to my breast and was\nwedded to its secret Soul.\n\n\n CHAPTER XVII\n The Flight and the Summons\n\nWe gained the hidden passage, bearing with us the treasures and the\nholy books of the Sanctuary that to this day lie buried in the caves\nof K\u00f4r. We came safely to the ruined temple of Osiris that the\nPersians had destroyed, and through it to the water-gate where the\nboats waited. None noting us, we embarked upon the boats and glided\naway down Nile. If any saw us pass, they thought us countryfolk, or\nperchance Egyptians who fled from the Persians in Memphis. But I think\nthat none did see us, since all eyes were bent upon the flaming temple\nof Isis and all ears were filled with the rumours that flew from mouth\nto mouth, telling that the goddess had descended in fire and made an\nend of the tyrant Ochus, his generals, his councillors, and his court.\n\nThus did I bid farewell to white-walled Memphis which never again my\neyes should see, though often my spirit shows it to me in visions of\nthe night, and often I seem to hear the last wild agony of those upon\nwhom I executed the decree of Heaven.\n\nWhat happened afterward? Of that I know little, though rumours which\nPhilo brought in the later years told me that Bagoas and the physician\nlet fall or flung away the corpse of Ochus. These rumours said that it\nwas found devoured by cats and jackals, so that had it not been for\nthe rent Osiris wrappings, none would have known that here lay all\nthat was left of the King of kings who desolated Egypt and made her as\na widow. They told also that Bagoas set Arses, the son of Ochus, upon\nthe throne of Persia, and later poisoned him and all his children save\none. Then it seems that he made Darius king, and this Darius\nCodomannus, knowing that Bagoas would poison him also, smote the\nfirst, forcing him to drink of the drugged cup that he had given to so\nmany.\n\nSuch, it appears, was the end of Bagoas whom I used as the artist uses\na tool, harnessing him to the chariot of my wrath and, like the\n_Erinnyes_ of the Greeks, making of him a sword wherewith I, or Heaven\nworking through me, stabbed Persia to the heart, as through Tenes I\nhad stabbed Sidon and through Sidon, Egypt. For such were the dooms\nthat I was commanded to bring about. Thus Bagoas walked the road down\nwhich, aforetime, he drove his victims, and save for an evil name that\nechoes through the ages, this was the end of him and all his crimes.\n\nEre dawn our company came to the great reed-bed and through it by\nchannels known only to our pilots, reached the secret shrine named\n_Isis-among-the-Reeds_, where all had been made ready for our coming\nby the priests who watched there. Worn out, as well I might be, I laid\nme down and slept in a tiny cell, fearing no harm, since I knew surely\nthat none would come to me or to those with me. Why I knew it I cannot\nsay, but it was so. I knew further that I had done with Egypt; my work\nthere was finished; henceforth we were divorced.\n\nAll that day I slept and through most of the night which followed,\nlulled by the whispering of the tall, surrounding reeds. I suppose\nthat it must have been during those night hours that I dreamed a\nstrange dream. In it I stood upon the desert, a vast waste of sand\nbordered in the distance by the Nile. I was alone in this desert save\nfor the sun that sank in the west and the moon that rose in the east,\nand between them, shone upon by sun and moon, by Ra and by Isis,\ncrouched a mighty Sphinx of stone with a woman's breasts and head,\nwhich Sphinx I knew was Egypt. There she sat, immemorial, unchanging,\nstern, beautiful, and stared with brooding eyes toward the east whence\nmorn by morn arose the sun.\n\nAppeared before her, one by one, each adorned with its own sacred\nemblems, all the gods of Egypt, a grim, fantastic crowd such as a\nbrain distraught might fashion in its madness. Beast-headed and\nhuman-shaped, human-headed and beast-shaped; dogs and hawks,\ncrocodiles and owls; swamp-birds, bulls, rams, and swollen-bellied\ndwarfs, came this rout of gods and bowed before the stern and\nbeauteous Sphinx that wore a woman's head.\n\nThe Sphinx opened its mouth and spoke.\n\n\"What would ye of me who have sheltered you for long?\" it asked.\n\nOne shaped like a man but from whose shoulders rose the beaked head of\nan ibis crowned with a crescent moon on which stood a feather, and\nholding in his hand the palette of a scribe; he whom the Egyptians\nnamed Thoth the Measurer, the Recorder, stood forward and made answer.\n\n\"We would bid thee farewell, Mother Egypt, our shelterer for thousands\nupon thousands of years. Out of thy mud we were created, into thy mud\nwe return again.\"\n\n\"Is it so?\" answered the Sphinx. \"Well, what of it? Your short day is\ndone. Yet tell me, who gave you these monstrous shapes and who named\nyou gods?\"\n\n\"The priests gave them to us and the priests named us gods,\" answered\nthe ibis-headed man. \"Now the priests are slain and we perish with the\npriests, because we are but gods made of thy mud, O Egypt.\"\n\n\"Then get you gone back into the mud, ye gods of mud. But first tell\nme, where is my Spirit that in the beginning, when the world was\nyoung, I sent forth that it might be a Soul divine to rule Egypt and\nthe world?\"\n\n\"We know not,\" answered Thoth the Recorder. \"Ask it of the priests who\nmade us. Perchance they have hidden it away. Farewell, O Egypt,\nfarewell, O Sphinx, farewell, farewell!\"\n\n\"Farewell!\" echoed all that monstrous throng and then faded miserably\naway.\n\nThere was silence and with it solitude; the Sphinx stared at\nNothingness and Nothingness stared at the Sphinx, and I, the watcher,\nwatched. At length out of the nothingness arose something, and its\nshape was the shape of woman. It stood before the Sphinx and said,\n\n\"Behold me! I am thy lost spirit, but thou, O Egypt, didst not create\nme, for I created thee by a divine command. I am she whom men know as\nIsis here upon the Nile, but whom all the world, and all the worlds\nbeyond the world know as Nature, the visible garment of the Almighty\nGod. Gone are those phantasies, man-nurtured and priest-conceived. Yet\nI remain and thou remainest, aye, and though we be called by many\nnames in the infinite days to come as we have been called in the\ninfinite days that are gone, ever shall we remain until this little\nfloating globe of earth ceases from its journeyings and melts back\ninto that from which it came, the infinite arms of the infinite God.\"\n\nThen the human-headed Sphinx rose from the rock whereon it had lain\nfrom the beginning. It reared its giant bulk, it went upon its knees\nand bowed to the woman-shape, the tiny woman-shape that was Isis, that\nwas Nature, that was the Executrix of God. Thrice it bowed--and\nvanished.\n\nThe Spirit was left and I, Ayesha, was left. The Spirit turned and\nlooked on me and lo! to my sight it was shaped as I am shaped. Sadly\nit looked, with grieving eyes, but never a word it spoke.\n\n\"Mother. My mother,\" I called, \"speak to me, my mother!\"\n\nBut never a word it answered, only it pointed to the skies and\nsuddenly was gone. Then I, Ayesha, I stood alone in the immeasurable\ndesert looking at the setting sun, looking at the rising moon, looking\nat the evening star that shone between, and wept and wept and wept\nbecause of my loneliness. For what company is there for a human soul\nin sun and moon and evening star when the spirit that formed it and\nthem has departed, leaving them to gaze one upon the other, voiceless\nin the void?\n\n\nSuch was my dream upon which I have pondered from year to year, asking\nan answer to its riddle from sun and moon and evening star, and\nfinding none. Only the spirit can interpret its own problems, and to\nme, because of my sins, because, like the gods of Egypt I am fashioned\nof mud that veils my soul's dim lamp within, as yet that spirit is\nchoked and dumb. Still, one day the Nile of death that I have dammed\nfrom me for so long will burst its barriers and wash away the mud.\nThen the lamp will shine out again; then the spirit will come and\nrefresh it with its holy oil and breathe upon it with its breath, and\nin that breath perchance I shall understand my dream and learn the\nanswer to its riddle.\n\nIndeed already Time lays its foundations bare, for does not Holly tell\nme that for nigh upon two thousand years her gods have been dead in\nEgypt? For awhile they lingered on beneath the Greeks and Romans,\nchanged masks of what once they were; for awhile their effigies were\nstill painted upon the coffins of her people. Then the star of a new\nFaith rose, a bright and holy star, and in its beams they withered and\ncrumbled into dust. Only the old Sphinx remains staring at the Nile\nand mayhap in the silence of the night holds commune with Isis the\nMother, telling of dead kings and wars forgot, for being Nature's\nself, Isis alone can never die although from age to age her vestments\nchange.\n\nYea, when I, Ayesha, fired the hall and burned those foul Persian\nfeasters, with them I slew the gods of Egypt, and their sad and solemn\nstatues stared a farewell to me through that wavering wall of flame.\nNay, it was not I who did it, nor was it I who brought its doom on\nSidon and his death on Ochus, but Destiny that used me as its sword,\nas I used Bagoas, me, Fate's doom-driven daughter.\n\n\nWhen I awoke it was still dark save for the light of the sinking moon,\nand in the night-wind, with a faint continual voice, the tall reeds\nwhispered their prayer to Heaven. For though we know it not, all that\nhas life must pray or die. From the great star rushing through space\non its eternal journey to the humblest flower nestling beneath a\nstone, everything must pray, for prayer is the blood of the spirit\nthat is in them and if that blood freezes, then they are resolved to\nmatter that cannot grow and, knowing neither hope nor fear, is lost in\nthe blind gulf of darkness.\n\nI hearkened to those whispering reeds telling of the mysteries below\nto the mysteries above, and on the wings of their sweet petitions,\nsent up my own to Heaven.\n\nFor in truth I was troubled and knew not what to do. Here I could not\nbide for long, since surely, soon or late the Persians would seek me\nout and surely Bagoas, to cover his own crimes, would slay me as the\ndestroyer of his king. This did not affright me who was weary of the\nworld with all its horrors and in a mood to walk the gate of death,\nhoping that beyond it I might find a better. But there were those with\nme, my fellow servants to whom I had sworn safety and who put their\nfaith in me, as though in truth I were the goddess herself, and if I\ndied, certainly they would die also.\n\nTherefore I must save them if I could. Yet how? I had no ship in which\nto flee from Egypt, and if it were to hand, whither should I fly now\nthat all the earth was Persian? Oh! that Noot were here to counsel me.\nThat he lived somewhere I was sure, since had not his voice spoken in\nthe shrine and this by no priestly trick, for when I put up that\nprayer for guidance, I knew not how it would be answered or by whom,\nor if indeed it would but fall upon the deaf ears of the winds, and\nlike a dead leaf, in their breath be blown away and lost.\n\nYes, he still lived, yet how could I know that it was here he lived?\nMayhap he spoke from far beyond this stormy air of earth. Even so he\nwho had counselled me once might counsel me again.\n\n\"O whispering reeds,\" I cried in my heart, \"with all your million\ntongues, pray east and west and north and south, that Ayesha in her\nneed may be helped of the wisdom of the holy Noot.\"\n\nYes, thus I prayed like a little, bewildered child who sees God in a\ncloud and thinks that flowers open for her joy and that the great\nPleiades look down from the sky and love her. Yes, toil and grief and\nterror had made me like a little child.\n\nWell, it is to such, rather than to the proud and learned, the rulers\nof the earth and the challengers of Heaven, that answers oftenest come\nand with them knowledge of the truth. At least to me, emptied of\nstrength and wisdom and in that weak hour, forgetful even of my\nbeauty, my great deeds, and the lore that I had won, swiftly there\ncame an answer.\n\nOf a sudden, at the first blush of dawn upon night's pale cheek, a\npriestess stood by my pallet,\n\n\"Awake, O Isis-come-to-Earth,\" she said, bowing. \"A man stands without\nwho would have speech with you. He came here in a boat and when he was\nchallenged answered with all the signs, aye, and even spoke the secret\nwords known to few, those words that open the sanctuary's door. The\npriests questioned him of his business. He answered that he could tell\nit only to her who bore the jewelled _sistrum_, to her who veiled her\nhead with cloud like a mountain-top, to that Prophetess who in all\nshrines is known as Child-of-Wisdom, but who among men was named\nAyesha, Daughter of Yarab.\"\n\nDoubting me of this man and scenting treachery, I caused that\ninstructed priestess to repeat one by one the mystical words that he\nhad spoken. At last she uttered a certain syllable of which even she\ndid not know the meaning. But I knew it and knew also who had its\ncustody.\n\nFilled with a great hope I rose and wrapped myself in a dark garment.\n\n\"Lead me to this man,\" I said, \"but first make sure that three priests\nstand round him with drawn swords.\"\n\nShe went and presently returned again, saying that the man awaited me\nin the fore-court of the little temple, guarded as I had bidden. To\nthis court I followed her. It was but a small place, like to a large\nroom. I entered it from the sanctuary to the west. Through the eastern\ndoor poured the first rays of the rising sun, that struck upon a man\nwho stood waiting in the centre of the court, guarded by three priests\nwith lifted swords.\n\nI could not see his face, though perhaps even beneath my cowl he could\nsee mine upon which those rays also struck. At least I saw him start,\nthen fall to his knees, raising his hand in salute with a quick and\ncurious motion. It was enough. I knew him at once. This man was Philo\nand no other. With a word I bade the armed priests leave us and the\npriestess who had accompanied me bide in the shadow. Then I went\nforward, saying,\n\n\"Rise, Philo, for whom I have looked so long that I began to think you\nwere no more to be found beneath the sun. Whence come you, Philo, and\nfor what purpose?\"\n\n\"O Prophetess, O adored, O Lady divine,\" he answered in a voice of\njoy, \"I, your slave in the flesh and your fellow servant in the\ngoddess, greet you whom never I hoped to see again after all that has\npassed in Egypt. Suffer that I may kiss your hand and thereby learn\nthat you are still a woman and not a ghost.\"\n\nI stretched out my hand and reverently he touched it with his lips.\n\n\"Now tell your tale, friend Philo,\" I said. \"Whence come you, most\nwelcome Philo, and by what magic do you find me here?\"\n\n\"I come from far to the south, Prophetess, out of an ancient land of\nwhich you shall learn afterward. For three moons have I struggled over\ndifficult seas driven by contrary winds, to reach the mouths of Nile\nand to find you, if still you lived.\"\n\n\"And who sent you, friend Philo?\"\n\n\"A certain Master who is known to both of us, he sent me.\"\n\n\"Is he perchance named Noot?\" I asked in a low voice, \"and if so, did\nyou sail hither over mortal seas, or over those through which Ra\ntravels in the Under-world?\"\n\nThis I said wondering, for it came into my mind that he who knelt\nbefore me might perchance be not a man but a shadow sent to summon me\nto the halls of Osiris.\n\n\"Mortal seas I sailed; those of the Under-world still await my prow, O\nWisdom's Daughter. Here is the proof of it,\" and drawing a roll from\nhis bosom, with it he touched his brow in token of reverence, then\ngave it to me.\n\nI broke the seals, I opened that roll, and by the light of the rising\nsun I read. It ran thus:\n\n\"From Noot, the son of Noot, the high-priest, the guardian of Secrets,\nto Ayesha, Child of Isis, Wisdom's Daughter, the Instructed, the\nOracle: Thus saith Noot.\n\n\"I live, I do not sleep in my eternal house. My spirit shows me that\nwhich passes upon the Nile. I know that you have obeyed my commands\nwhich I gave to you before we parted in the bygone years, O my\nbegotten in the goddess. I know that you have waited patiently in\nfaith through many tribulations. I know also that this writing will\nfind you in an hour of great peril when for the second time you have\nescaped from fire, leaving behind you the ashes of your foes. Come to\nme now and at once, Philo the beloved brother and the consecrated\n_sistrum_ that is the sceptre of your office being your guides. Philo\nshall lead you; through all dangers the _sistrum_ shall be your\nshield. I write no more.\n\n\"Obey, Mouth of Isis, bringing with you those that are left to the\nservice of the goddess. Read the seal of Noot, high-priest and\nprophet, and tarry not.\"\n\nI read and hid away the roll. Then I asked,\n\n\"Upon what wings do we fly to Noot who is so far from us, friend\nPhilo?\"\n\n\"Upon those of a ship that is known to you, Prophetess, the ship named\n_Hapi_, upon which already you have passed many perils. She lies\nyonder fully manned in the outer fringe of this sea of reeds.\"\n\n\"How did you find those reeds, and how did you know that I was hidden\namong them?\" I asked curiously.\n\n\"Noot marked them on a chart he gave me and told me that in them,\nwhere, as the story runs, Isis discovered the heart of Osiris, there I\nshould find the child of Isis. Prophetess, inquire no more.\"\n\nI heard and returned thanks in my heart. Truly what I whispered to the\nwhispering reeds had been borne to the ears of Heaven.\n\nThe trireme _Hapi_, with her mast struck, lay hidden in shallow water\nmidst beds of tall bulrushes and papyrus plants, into which Philo had\nworked her by the moonlight. All that day we laboured lading her with\nthe treasures of the temple of Isis and those of the secret shrine,\nwhich were many, for during these times of trouble much gold and\npriceless furnishing of precious metals had been hidden here among the\nreeds. Also with them were some of the most ancient and hallowed\nstatues of the goddess fashioned in gold and ivory and alabaster\nstone.\n\nAll of these together with my own great wealth of jewels and other\ngear were borne in boats to the _Hapi_ and stored within her hold\nwhere they lay hid beneath much merchandise that Philo had purchased\nat the ports of Nile. Hither he had come disguised as a merchant from\nthe south, having his ship laden with the produce of Punt such as\nivory and rare woods. These he sold at the ports where he gathered\ntidings of all that passed in Egypt, and having purchased other goods\nin place of them, passed unsuspected up the Nile to the secret Isle of\nReeds where Noot had bidden him make inquiry for me at the time of\nfull moon in this very month. It was not difficult for him to find\nthis isle as it seemed that, being an initiate of Isis, once in bygone\ndays he had visited it on the business of the goddess.\n\nWhile we were at this work we saw boats full of Persian soldiers pass\ndown Nile, as though they searched for someone, and toward the evening\nsaw them return up Nile again, heading for Memphis. I knew for whom\nthey sought and noted that they did so very idly, since all believed\nthat I and my company had perished with the Persians in the burning\ntemple.\n\nAt nightfall I gathered the priests and priestesses, in all they were\nthirty and three in number, and spoke to them, saying,\n\n\"Here in Egypt we who are the servants of the goddess can stay no\nmore. The gods of Khem are fallen, their shrines are desolate, and\ndeath by sword and fire, or by the torturer's hooks, is the lot of\nthose that worship them. Noot, the high-priest, the Master, the\nProphet, summons us from afar, bidding us bear the worship of the\ngoddess to new lands that lie I know not where. Philo, our brother, is\nhis messenger and here is the message written in this roll; read it if\nyou will. I, the Oracle and Prophetess, obey the summons; this very\nnight I sail setting my course for seas unknown, and trusting to the\ngoddess to be my guide, mayhap into the gates of death. Noot the\nhigh-priest bids you to accompany me. Yet I give you choice. Bide on\nhere if you will and live out your lives disguised as scribes or\npeasants, for in the temples you can no longer find a home. Mayhap\nthus you shall escape the vengeance of the Persians. Or come with me\nif you will, knowing that I promise you nothing. Let each speak as the\nSpirit directs the heart within.\"\n\nThey consulted together; then one by one they said that it was their\nmind to be of my company since they held it better to die with me and\npass pure to the arms of the goddess rather than to live on defiled,\nor perchance to perish miserably beneath the stripes of the\nexecutioners, having first been forced to do sacrifice to the Persian\ngod of Fire. So man by man and woman by woman they swore the oath that\nmight not be broken by those who would escape the jaws of the\nDevourer, and in token kissed the holy _sistrum_ that I held to the\nlips of each. Then for the last time we celebrated the rites of Isis\nin a temple of Isis on the Nile and with weeping and with woe sang the\npsalm of farewell, such as is chanted over the dead of our fellowship.\n\nThis done we went to the boats and were rowed on board the _Hapi_.\n\nWhen the moon was bright the mariners, fierce, foreign men most of\nthem, such as I had never seen before, who wore great earrings of gold\nand had rings thrust through their noses, poled the vessel out from\namong the reeds into the deep waters of the Nile. Here they hoisted\nthe mast and set the sails which presently filled before the strong\nwind blowing from the upper land, and bore us forward swiftly.\n\nPassing out of the Nile by a little-used mouth, as we could do now\nthat the river was in flood, we entered the canal that joins the seas,\nwhich canal the old Pharaohs dug and the Persians had caused to be\ncleared of drifting sand. By it, though not easily, for in places it\nwas both narrow and shallow, at length we came safely into the Red Sea\nand bade farewell to Egypt. None hindered us on this journey, and,\nhaving crossed the lakes, only once did we stay at a little unravaged\ntown at the far mouth of the canal, to buy bread, fresh fish, and meat\nwherewith to stock our ship.\n\nThis town we found to be full of rumours, for the news of the death of\nOchus had reached it and many tales were told of the manner of his\nend. That which these coast-dwellers favoured was that Set the god had\nappeared in person at a feast, and seizing Ochus, had set him upon a\nwinged Apis, that very Apis bull which he had sacrificed and eaten,\nand borne him away to hell. At this fable I smiled, though indeed in\nit there was a seed of truth, since without doubt, if there be a hell,\nthe blood-soaked Ochus was its inhabitant that day.\n\n\nNow of all that journey I, who grow weary of writing, will omit the\nstory. Most marvellously it prospered, so much so that I think, unseen\nby us, spirits from the Under-world must have stood upon our prow.\nFrom day to day a strong and steady wind blowing from the north drove\nus forward swiftly. No storm smote us nor did we strike upon any rock,\nand when we made land for water, either it was uninhabited, or the\nfolk who dwelt there, strange barbarous folk, were friendly.\n\nSo the time went by creeping from moon to moon and ever we sailed on\nsouthward. Nor was the time unhappy, since there I sat in that same\ncabin which had been mine when Pharaoh gave me as a bribe to Tenes and\nthat therefore was familiar to me, having something of the aspect of a\nhome. Indeed with a certain taste of acid pleasure, from time to time\nI recalled all that had happened to me upon this ship and in that very\ncabin. For instance where I had wrung the writing from the\npassion-maddened Tenes; where he had stood and knelt; where his shadow\nhad struck upon the cedar walls. There, too, in the wood was an arrow\nhole, which arrow should have drunk my life.\n\nThen in the waist of the ship was the place where the boarders from\nthe _Holy Fire_ had won aboard, whence Kallikrates, the Grecian\ncaptain turned hierophant, had beat them back so gallantly. Aft, also,\nwas the shelter where I had visited him and dressed his wounds that\nwere almost to the death. Here I placed upon his finger the charmed\nscarab ring of Kh\u00e6muas, the Magician, whereon were cut symbols with a\nsecret meaning, though they seemed to read only as \"Son of Ra,\" that\nthis ring might raise him from the darkness of death, as Osiris rose\nand as Ra rises from the Under-world.\n\nHere, too, it was that I heard him mistake me for another woman and to\nthat woman give his thanks, thus opening my eyes to all the folly of\nmy heart. Years ago these things had chanced to me, and now when they\nwere dead things, I say that I could dream of them with that soft\ngrief which is like to the tenderness of eve after the promise of the\nmorning and the burning noonday heat have become but memories buried\nbeneath the dust of time. Yet it is true that now and again those\nmemories renewed their life, especially within the shrines of sleep.\n\nOh! it was all so long ago. Had not Philo's beard, that I remembered\nbrown and rich, since then grown gray, and were not his curling locks\nthinned upon his temples? And I who then was young, had I not grown to\nmiddle-age, though still I remained more lovely than any other woman\nin the world, and was not my soul burdened with much learning, and had\nnot the sorrows I had passed pierced it with a thousand spears? Now,\ntoo, doubtless Kallikrates was dead, and all the dreams to which he\nalone among men had given birth within me had gone wherever dreams may\ngo, perchance to be lost in the vast unknown, or perchance after the\nchange called death, there to be found again?\n\nYet I, I wandered forward on my path, Fate-driven as of old, to what\nend I knew not and did not greatly care to know. For now it seemed my\npart was played; the world and its stirrings were left behind me and\nthe last shreds of my web must be spun of poor stuff in petty, unknown\nplaces, where I should patter prayers beneath an alien sky till it\npleased death to enfold me in its wings and bear me to the depths of\nits enormous habitations.\n\nWell, so let it be, since, as I have said, I was weary of the world;\nits toils, its bloody issues, and its perpetual strivings to grasp\nthat which man or woman may not hold--except in dreams.\n\nWith Philo I talked much, but always of the past; of those things\nwhich we had experienced together, or of other events of his earlier,\nadventurous life, or of my own. A most pleasant companion was this\nPhilo, of a shrewd wit and some learning also, a brave citizen of the\nworld who had seen much, and yet one who revered the gods, whatever\nthe gods might be, and had thoughts of that which lies beyond the\nworld, whatever this may be. But of the present or of what had\nhappened to him since he sailed away with Noot, my Master, when Ochus\ninvaded Egypt, and least of all of the future and whither we went or\nwhy, I did not talk at all.\n\nFor when these matters came to my lips, as they did even before we\nwere clear of Nile, Philo made a certain sign to me which being\ninterpreted meant that he was under an oath, a very solemn oath, not\nto speak of any of them, which oath I respected, as indeed I was bound\nto do. Therefore I asked no more and sailed on careless as a child\nthat recks not of what is to come and from whom death is still very\nfar away.\n\n\n CHAPTER XVIII\n The Tale of Philo\n\nOnce more it was a night of full moon. As we had done for many days\nwe were sailing before that steady wind along the coast of Libya,\nhaving this upon our right hand, and upon our left, at a distance, a\nline of rocky reef upon which breakers fell continually.\n\nIt was a very splendid moon that turned the sea to silver and lit up\nthe palm-grown shore almost as brightly as does the sun. I sat upon\nthe deck near to my cabin and by me stood Philo watching that shore\nintently.\n\n\"For what do you seek, Philo? Are you in fear of sunken rocks?\"\n\n\"Nay, Child of Isis, yet it is true that I seek a certain rock which\nby my reckoning should now be in sight. Ah!\"\n\nThen suddenly he ran forward and shouted an order. Men leapt up and\nsprang to the ropes while the rowers began to get out the sweeps. As\nthey did this the _Hapi_ came round so that her bow pointed to the\nshore and the great sail sank to the deck. Then the long oars bit into\nthe water and drove us shoreward.\n\nPhilo returned.\n\n\"Look, Lady,\" he said. \"Now that the moon has risen higher you can see\nwell,\" and he pointed to a headland in front of us.\n\nFollowing his outstretched hand with my eyes I perceived a great rock\nmany cubits in height and carven on the crest of it a head far larger\nthan that of the huge Sphinx of Egypt. Or perchance it was not carved;\nperchance Nature had fashioned it thus. At least there it stood and\nwill stand, a terrible and hideous thing, having the likeness of an\nEthiopian's head gazing eternally across the sea.\n\n\"What is it?\" I asked.\n\n\"Lady, it is the Guardian of the Gate of the land whither we go.\nLegend tells that it is shaped to the likeness of the first king of\nthat land who lived thousands upon thousands of years before the\npyramids were built; also that his bones lie in it, or at least, that\nit is haunted by his spirit. For this reason none dare to touch and\nmuch less to climb yonder monstrous rock.\"\n\nThen he left me to see to the matters of the ship, because, as he said\nin going, the entrance to the place was strait and dangerous. But I\nsat on alone upon the deck watching this strange new sight.\n\nWithin an hour, rowing carefully, we entered the mouth of a river,\nhaving the rock shaped like to a negro's head upon our right. Then it\nwas that I saw something which put me in mind of Philo's tale about an\nancient king. For there, unless I dreamed, upon the very point of the\nskull of the effigy, of a sudden I perceived a tall form clad in\narmour which shone silvery bright in the moon's rays. It leaned upon a\ngreat spear, and when we were opposite to it, straightened itself and\nbent forward as though to stare at our ship beneath. Next, thrice it\nlifted the spear in salutation; thrice it bowed, as I thought in\nobeisance to me, and having done so, threw its arms wide and was gone.\n\nAfterward I asked Philo if he also had seen this thing.\n\n\"Nay,\" he answered in a doubtful voice as though the matter were one\nof which he did not wish to talk, adding,\n\n\"It is not the custom of mariners to study that head in the moonlight,\nbecause the story goes that if they do and chance to see some such\nghost as that you tell of, it casts a spear toward them, who then are\ndoomed to die within the year. Yet at you, Child of Isis, he cast no\nspear, only bowed and gave the salute of kings, or so you tell me.\nTherefore doubtless neither you nor any of us, your companions, are\nmarked for death.\"\n\nI smiled and said that I whose soul was in touch with Heaven feared\nnot the wraith of any ancient king, nor did we speak more of this\nmatter. Yet in the after ages it came into my mind that there was\ntruth in the story and that this long-dead king appeared thus to give\ngreeting to her who was destined to rule his land through many\ngenerations; also that perchance he was not dead at all, but, having\ndrunk of a certain Cup of Life of which I was to learn, lived\neternally there upon the rock.\n\nI laid me down and slept, and when I woke in the bright morning it was\nto find that we had passed from that river into a canal dug by man\nwhich, though deep, was too narrow for the sweeps to work. Therefore\nthe _Hapi_ must be pushed along with poles and towed by ropes dragged\nat by the mariners from a path that ran upon the bank.\n\nFor three days we travelled thus making but slow progress, since the\ntoil of dragging so large a ship was great, and at night we tied up to\nthe bank, as boats do upon the Nile. All this while we saw no\nhabitation though certain ruins we did see. Indeed that country was\nvery desolate and full of great swamps that were tenanted by wild\nbeasts, the haunt of owls and bitterns, where lions roared and\nserpents crept, great serpents such as I had never seen.\n\nAt length at noon on the fourth day we came to a lake where the canal\nended, which lake once had been a harbour, for we saw stone quays\nwhere still were tied some boats that seemed to be little used. Here\nPhilo said that we must disembark and travel on by land. So we left\nthe _Hapi_, sadly enough for my part, because those were happy, quiet\ndays that I had spent on board of her, veritable oases in the\nstorm-swept desert of my life.\n\nScarcely had we set foot upon the land when appeared, I knew not\nwhence, a company of men, handsome, hook-nosed, sombre men, such as I\nhad seen among the crew upon the _Hapi_. These men, though so fierce\nin appearance, were not barbarians, for they wore linen garments that\ngave to them the aspect of priests. Moreover, their leaders could\nspeak Arabic in its most ancient form, which, having studied it, as it\nchanced, I knew. With this army, who bore bows and spears, came a\nmultitude of folk of a baser sort that carried litters, or burdens,\nalso a guard of great fellows that Philo told me were my especial\nescort. Now my patience failed so that I turned upon Philo saying,\n\n\"Hitherto, Friend, I have trusted myself to you, because it seemed\ndecreed that I should do so. Now tell me, I pray you, what means this\njourney over countless leagues of sea into a land untrod, and whither\ngo I in the fellowship of these barbarians? Because you brought me a\ncertain writing in an acceptable hour, I gave myself into your\nkeeping, nor did I even ask any revelation from the goddess or seek to\nsolve the mystery by spells. Yet, now I ask and, as the Prophetess of\nIsis, demand the truth of you, her humbler servant.\"\n\n\"Lady divine,\" answered Philo, bowing himself before me, \"what I have\nwithheld is by command, the command of a very great one, of none less\nthan Noot the aged and holy. You go to an old land that is yet new to\nfind Noot, your master and mine.\"\n\n\"In the flesh or in the spirit?\" I asked.\n\n\"In the flesh, Prophetess, if still he lives, as these men say, and\nsee, I accompany you, I whom in the past you have found faithful. If I\nfail you, let my life pay forfeit, and for the rest, ask it of the\nholy Noot.\"\n\n\"It is enough,\" I said. \"Lead on.\"\n\nWe entered the litters; we laded the bearers with the treasures of\nIsis and with my own peculiar wealth, and having placed the ship\n_Hapi_ under guard, marched into the unknown like to some great\ncaravan of merchants. For days we marched, following a broad road that\nwas broken down in places, over plains and through vast swamps, and at\nnight sleeping in caves or covered by tents which we brought with us.\n\nThis was a strange journey that I made surrounded by that host of\nhook-nosed, silent, ghost-like men, who, as I noted, loved the night\nbetter than they did the day. Almost might I have thought that they\nhad been sent from Hades to conduct us to those gates from which for\nmortals there is no return. My fellowship of the priests and\npriestesses grew afraid and clustered round me at night, praying to be\nled back to familiar lands and faces.\n\nI answered them that what I dared they must dare also, and that the\ngoddess was as near to us here as she had been in Egypt, nor could\ndeath be closer to us than it was in Egypt. Yea, I bade them have\nfaith, since without faith we could not be at peace one hour who,\nlacking it, must be overwhelmed with terrors, even within the walls of\ncitadels.\n\nThey hearkened, bowing their heads and saying that whatever else they\nmight doubt, they trusted themselves to me.\n\nSo we went on, passing through a country where more of these\nhalf-savage men that I learned were called _Amahagger_ dwelt in\nvillages surrounded by their cattle, or by colonies in caves. At last\nthere arose before us a mighty mountain whose towering cliffs had the\nappearance of a wall so vast that the eye could not compass it. By a\ngorge we penetrated that mountain and found within it an enormous,\nfertile plain, and on the plain a city larger than Memphis or than\nThebes, but a city half in ruins.\n\nPassing over a great bridge spanning a wide moat once filled with\nwater that now here and there was dry, we entered the walls of that\ncity and by a street broader than any I had ever seen, bordered by\nmany noble, broken houses, though some of these seemed still to be\ninhabited, came to a glorious temple like to those of Egypt, only\ngreater, and with taller columns. Across its grass-grown courts, that\nwere set one within another, we were carried to some inner sanctuary.\nHere we descended from the litters and were led to sculptured chambers\nthat seemed to have been made ready to receive us, where we cleansed\nourselves of the dust of travel and ate. Then came Philo, who\nconducted me to a little lamp-lit hall, for now the night had fallen,\nwhere was a chair of state such as high-priests used, in which at his\nbidding I sat myself.\n\nI think that being weary with travel, I must have slept in that chair,\nsince I dreamed or seemed to dream that I received worship such as is\ngiven to a queen, or even to a goddess. Heralds hailed me, voices sang\nto me, even spirits appeared in troops to talk to me, the spirits of\nthose who thousands of years before had departed from the earth. They\ntold me strange stories of the past and of the future; tales of a\nfallen people, of a worship and a glory that had gone by and been\nswallowed in the gulfs of Time. Then gathering in a multitude they\nseemed to hail me, crying,\n\n\"Welcome, appointed Queen! Build thou up that which has fallen.\nDiscover thou that which is lost. Thine is the strength, thine the\nopportunity, yet beware of the temptations, beware of the flesh, lest\nthe flesh should overcome the spirit and by its fall add ruin unto\nruin, the ruin of the soul to the ruin of the body.\"\n\nI awoke from my vision and saw Philo standing before me.\n\n\"Hearken, Philo,\" I said. \"Of these mysteries I can bear no more. The\ntime has come when you must speak, or face my wrath. Why have I been\nbrought hither to this strange and distant land where it seems that I\nmust dwell in a place of ruins?\"\n\n\"Because the holy Noot so commanded, O Child of Wisdom,\" he answered.\n\"Was it not set down in the writing I gave you at the Isle of Reeds\nupon the Nile?\"\n\n\"Where then is the holy Noot?\" I asked. \"Here I see him not. Is he\ndead?\"\n\n\"I do not think that he is dead, Lady. Yet to the world he is dead. He\nhas become a hermit, one who dwells in a cave in a perilous place not\nvery far from this city. To-morrow I will bring you to him, if that be\nyour will. So only can you see him who now for years has never left\nthat cave, or so I think, save to fetch the food which is prepared for\nhim.\"\n\n\"A strange tale, Philo, though that Noot should become a hermit does\nnot amaze me, since such was ever his desire. Now tell me how he came\nhither, and you with him?\"\n\n\"Lady, you will remember that in the bygone years when Nectanebes, he\nwho was Pharaoh, fled up Nile, the holy Noot embarked upon my ship,\nthe _Hapi_, to sail to the northern cities, that there he might treat\nwith the Persians for the ransom of those temples of Egypt that\nremained unravished.\"\n\n\"I remember, Philo. What chanced to you upon that journey?\"\n\n\"This, Lady: that we were very nearly slain, every one of us, for whom\nthe Persians had set a trap, thinking to snare Noot and his company\nand torture him till he revealed where the treasures of the temples of\nIsis were hid away. Nevertheless, because I am a good sailor and\nbecause that warrior priest, Kallikrates, was brave, we escaped into\nthe canal which is called the _Road of Rameses_ and so at last out to\nsea, for to return up Nile was impossible. Then Noot commanded that I\nshould sail on southerly upon a course he seemed to know well enough;\nor perchance the goddess taught it to him; I cannot say. At least I\nobeyed, so that in the end we reached that harbour which is guarded by\na rock carved to the likeness of an Ethiopian's head, and thence\ntravelled to this place, still guided by the wisdom of Noot who knew\nthe road.\"\n\n\"And Kallikrates? What became of Kallikrates--who it seems was with\nyou?\" I asked in an indifferent voice, though my heart burned to hear\nhis answer.\n\n\"Lady, so far as it is known to me this is the story of Kallikrates\nand the Princess Amenartas.\"\n\n\"The Princess Amenartas! By all the gods, what is your meaning, Philo?\nShe went up Nile with Nectanebes her father, he who was Pharaoh.\"\n\n\"Nay, Lady, she went down Nile with Kallikrates, or perhaps with Noot,\nor perhaps with herself alone. I do not know with whom she hid since I\nnever saw her, nor learned that she was aboard my ship until we were\ntwo days' journey out to sea and the coasts of Egypt were far behind\nus.\"\n\n\"Is it so?\" I said coldly, though I was filled with bitter anger. \"And\nwhat did the holy Noot when he found that this woman was aboard his\nvessel?\"\n\n\"Lady, he did nothing except look on her somewhat doubtfully.\"\n\n\"And what did the priest Kallikrates? Did he strive to be rid of her?\"\n\n\"Nay, Lady, and indeed that would have been impossible, unless he had\nthrown her overboard. He did nothing except talk with her--that is, so\nfar as I saw.\"\n\n\"Well, then, Philo, where is she now, and where is Kallikrates? I do\nnot see him in this place.\"\n\n\"Lady, I cannot tell you, but I think it probable that they are dead\nand in the fellowship of Osiris. When we had been some weeks at sea we\nwere driven by storm to an island off the coast under the lee of which\nwe took shelter, a very fertile and beautiful island, peopled by a\nkindly folk. After we had sailed again from that island it was\ndiscovered that the priest Kallikrates and the Royal Princess\nAmenartas were missing from the ship, nor because of the strong wind\nthat blew us forward was it possible for us to return to seek for\nthem. I made inquiry of the matter and the sailors told me that they\nhad been fishing together and that a shark which took their bait\npulled them both into the sea; in which case doubtless they were\ndrowned.\"\n\n\"And did you believe that story, Philo?\"\n\n\"Nay, Lady. I understood at once that it was one which the sailors had\nbeen bribed to tell. Myself I think that they went to the island in\none of the boats of the people who dwell there; perhaps because they\ncould no longer bear the cold eyes of Noot fixed upon them, or perhaps\nto gather fruit, for which those who have been long upon water often\nconceive a great desire. But,\" he added simply, \"I do not know why\nthey should have done this seeing that the island-dwellers brought us\nplenty of fruits in their boats.\"\n\n\"Doubtless they preferred to pluck them fresh with their own hands,\nPhilo.\"\n\n\"Perhaps, Lady, or perhaps they wished to stay awhile upon that\nisland. At least I noted that the Princess took her garments and her\njewels with her, which she could scarcely have done if the shark had\ndragged her into the sea.\"\n\n\"Are you so sure, Philo, that she did not leave some of those jewels\nbehind--in _your_ keeping, Philo? It is very strange to me that the\nPrincess Amenartas could have come aboard your ship and have left your\nship, and you know nothing.\"\n\nNow Philo looked up innocently and said,\n\n\"Surely it is lawful for a captain to receive faring money from his\npassengers, and that I admit I did. But I do not understand why the\nChild of Wisdom is so wrath because a Greek and a great lady were by\nchance left together upon an island where, for aught I know, one or\nother of them may have had friends.\"\n\n\"Am I not the guardian of the honour of the goddess?\" I answered. \"And\ndo you not know that under our law Kallikrates was sworn to her\nalone?\"\n\n\"If so, Prophetess, doubtless that captain, or that priest, remembers\nhis oaths and deals with this princess as though she were his sister\nor his mother. At the least the goddess can guard her own honour, so\nwhy should you fret your soul concerning it, Prophetess? Lastly, it is\nprobable that by now both of them are dead and have made all things\nclear to Isis in the heavenly halls.\"\n\nThus he prattled on, adding lie to lie as only a Greek can do. I\nlistened until I could bear no more. Then I said but one word. It was\n\"Begone!\"\n\nHe went humbly, yet as I thought, smiling.\n\nOh! now I saw it all. Noot had made a plot to remove Kallikrates far\nfrom me, so that I might never look upon him again. Philo knew of this\nplot, and through him Amenartas knew it also. Unknown to Noot she\nbribed Philo to hide her upon his ship till they were far from land,\nthough whether the plan was known to Kallikrates I could not say, nor\ndid it greatly matter. Then the rest followed. Amenartas appeared upon\nthe ship and cast her net about Kallikrates who had sworn to have done\nwith her, and the end can be guessed. Noot was wrath with them, so\nwrath that when the chance came they fled away, purposing to stay upon\nthat island until they could find a ship to take them back to Egypt or\nelsewhere. Thus, I was sure, ran the story, and, as it proved\nafterward, I was right.\n\nWell, they were gone and as I hoped, dead, since only death could\ncover up such sin, and for my part I was glad that I had done with\nKallikrates and his light-of-love. And yet there, seated on the couch\nof state, I wept--because of the outrage done to Isis whom I served.\nOr was it for myself that I wept? I cannot say, I only know that my\ntears were bitter. Also I was very lonely in this strange and desolate\nplace. Why had I been brought here, I wondered. Because Noot had\ncommanded it, sending for me from afar, and what he commanded, that I\nmust obey. Where, then, was Noot, who, Philo swore, still lived? Why\nhad he not appeared to greet me? I covered my eyes with my hands and\nthrew out my soul to Noot, saying,\n\n\"Come to me, O Noot. Come to me, my beloved Master.\"\n\nLo! a voice, a well-remembered voice answered,\n\n\"Daughter, I am here.\"\n\nI let fall my hand. I gazed with my tear-stained eyes, and behold!\nbefore me, white-robed, gold-filleted, snowy-bearded, grown very\nancient and ethereal, stood the prophet and high-priest, my Master.\nFor a moment I thought that it was his spirit which I saw. Then he\nmoved, and I heard his white robes rustle, and knew that there stood\nNoot himself whom I had travelled so many thousand leagues to find.\n\nI rose; I ran to him; I seized his thin hand and kissed it, while he,\nmurmuring, \"My Daughter, at last, at last!\" leaned forward and with\nhis lips touched me on the brow.\n\n\"Far away your summons reached me in an hour of peril,\" I said.\n\"Behold! I obeyed, I came. In faith I came, asking no questions, and I\nam here in safety, for I think the goddess herself was with me on that\njourney. Tell me all, O Noot. What is this place? How were you brought\nto it and why have you called me to you?\"\n\n\"Hearken, Daughter,\" he said, seating himself beside me on the\nthrone-like couch. \"This city is named K\u00f4r. Once she was queen of the\nworld, as after her, Babylon, Thebes, Tyre, and Athens are, or have\nbeen queens. From K\u00f4r thousands of years ago in the black, lost ages\nEgypt was peopled, as were other lands. In those dim days by another\ntitle her citizens worshipped Isis, Queen of Heaven, only they named\nher _Truth_ whom in Egypt you know as Maat. Then apostasy arose and\nmany of this great people, abandoning the pure and gentle worship of\nIsis wrapped in the veil of Truth, under the name of Rezu, a fierce\nsun-d\u00e6mon, set up another god to whom they made human sacrifices, as\nthe Sidonians did to Moloch. Yea, they sacrificed men, women, and\nchildren by thousands, and even learned to eat their flesh, first as a\nsacred rite, and afterward to satisfy their appetites. Heaven saw and\ngrew wrath; Heaven smote the people with a mighty pestilence, so that\nthey perished and perished till few were left. Thus K\u00f4r fell by the\nsword of God as, for like cause, fell Sidon.\"\n\n\"Of all this afterward,\" I answered impatiently. \"Tell me first, how\ncame you here? Long years ago you sailed down Nile to treat with the\nPersians for the ransom of the temples of Egypt, a mission in which it\nseems you failed, my Father.\"\n\n\"Aye, Ayesha, I failed. It was but a trap, since those false-hearted\nFire-worshippers thought to take me captive and hold my life in gage\nagainst all the treasures of Isis. By the cunning and seamanship of\nPhilo and the courage of a priest named Kallikrates, whom you may\nstill remember after all these years,\" here he glanced at me sharply,\n\"I escaped when a gang of them disguised as envoys strove to snare me.\nBut the road up Nile being barred, we were forced to fly south, and\ndown Pharaoh's Great Ditch, till at length, after many wanderings and\nadventures, we came to this land, as it was fated that I should do.\nYou will remember, Daughter, that I told you I believed that we were\nparting for a long while, although I believed also that we should meet\nagain in the flesh.\"\n\n\"I remember well,\" I answered, \"also that I swore to come to you at\nthe appointed hour.\"\n\n\"I came to this land,\" went on Noot, \"but Kallikrates, the Greek\ncaptain who was a priest of Isis, never reached it. He was lost on the\nway.\"\n\n\"With another, my Father. But now I have heard that story from Philo.\"\n\n\"With another who caused him to break his vows. Be sure, Daughter,\nthat I knew nothing of her plot or that she was hidden aboard the\nship, though perchance Philo knew. The goddess hid it from me,\ndoubtless for her own purposes.\"\n\n\"Are this pair dead, or do they still live, my Father?\"\n\n\"I cannot say; that also is hidden from me. Better for them if they\nare dead, since soon or late for such sacrilege vengeance will fall\nupon the head of one, if not of both of them. Peace be to them. May\nthey be forgiven! At least as I think they loved each other much and,\nsince love is very strong, all who have ever loved where they ought\nnot should have pity on them,\" and again his questioning eyes played\nupon my face.\n\n\n CHAPTER XIX\n The Hermitage of Noot\n\n\"Tell me of what has passed in Egypt since Ochus conquered and\nNectanebes fled away. Does Ochus still live, Daughter?\" asked Noot\nafter a pause during which both of us had sat staring at the ground.\n\n\"Nay, Father, Ochus is dead and by my hand, or through it,\" and I told\nhim all that story of the burning of the temple of Isis at my command\nand of the Persians who defiled it.\n\n\"A great deed such as you alone could have planned,\" he muttered, \"but\nterrible, terrible!\"\n\n\"Then your soul must bear its burden, Prophet, since it was your voice\nthat we heard in the sanctuary, when in our extreme we prayed for\nguidance, and it told us to go forward. There are those with me who\ncan bear witness that they heard your very voice, as I do.\"\n\n\"Mayhap, Daughter. It is true that on a certain day not so many moons\nago, I seemed to hear you calling to heaven in great trouble and\ndanger, also that by direction which came I know not whence, I\nanswered in my spirit that you must 'fulfil and fear not.' What you\nwere to fulfil I did not know, though it came to my mind that the\nbusiness had something to do with the burning of a temple.\"\n\n\"As it had indeed. Well, I fulfilled, as Ochus Artaxerxes and some\nhundreds of his Persian ravagers can testify before all the gods until\nthe end of time, for those dogs at least have ceased to pollute the\nearth and to-day are enriching hell. There let them lie with Tenes and\nNectanebes also, if in truth he has joined them, and many another\nfalse priest and king. Afterward we will talk of them and all their\ndeeds of shame. But first tell me why I am here. For what end did you\nsummon me from Egypt? Was it to save me from death?\"\n\n\"Nay, Ayesha, from more than that. Why should I wish to hold you back\nfrom the great boon of death in which so soon I must have joined you?\nI summoned you because I was commanded so to do, that now when Isis\nhas passed from Egypt, you should cause her worship to re-arise at\nK\u00f4r which was her ancient home. It is willed that here you should\nabide and once more build up this people and make it great by the help\nof the Queen of Heaven who then will lead it on to triumph and to\nglory.\"\n\n\"That is a mighty task, Prophet. Still perchance with your aid it may\nbe done if the gods give me life and wisdom.\"\n\nHe shook his head and answered,\n\n\"Look not to my aid, for at length my day is finished. Has not Philo\ntold you that I mix no more with matters of the world, I who for years\npast have dwelt a hermit in a terrible place, sheltered only by a cave\nand lost in the contemplation of holy things?\"\n\n\"No, Father, he has told me little or nothing--by your will, or so he\nsaid,\" I replied, amazed.\n\n\"Yet it is so; moreover, presently I must return to that prison whence\nI came, there to await the change called death. I have played my part,\nbut your work still remains to do; Philo will aid you in it.\"\n\n\"Why do you live in that place, Father, leaving me without the\nguidance of your wisdom?\"\n\n\"Because there I guard a great secret, that was revealed to me long\nago, it matters not how, the greatest secret in the whole world--that\nof how men may escape from death and live on eternally upon the\nearth.\"\n\nNow I stared at him, thinking that age and abstinence had made him\nmad. Then, to test the matter, I asked,\n\n\"If it be so great a secret, why do you tell it to me, Master?\"\n\n\"Because I must. Because I know well that if I do not, you would\ndiscover it for yourself, and being unwarned, would fall into the\ntrap, and still living beneath the sun, dare to clothe yourself with\nthis garment of immortality. It was for this reason that until twice\nthe command had come to me, I would not summon you to K\u00f4r.\"\n\nNow a new thought thrilled my soul. If this strange tale were true; if\nindeed here on earth there could be found such a door leading to the\ndivine, why should I not pass it and become as are the gods? Only I\ndid not believe that it was true.\n\n\"Surely you have dreamed in your loneliness, my Father,\" I said. \"But\nknow that if you did not dream, if it were true, I, Ayesha, should be\nminded to wear that robe of life eternal. Why not, O Prophet?\"\n\n\"Because, Ayesha, the man or woman who dared to eat of this fruit\nforbidden to their race here on earth, where death is decreed for all,\nwould be a man or woman who dared to enter into hell.\"\n\n\"I think otherwise, Prophet Noot, I think that this man or woman would\nenter into glory and become the ruler of the world,\" I answered, and\nas I spoke the words my eyes flashed and my breast heaved.\n\n\"Not so, Ayesha, since from that fatal peak of pride Heaven will beat\nback all human feet. Oh, hearken to me and purge your soul of the\nmadness of this desire by which I see already it is possessed. It was\nlaid upon me to reveal this secret to you, which I think was given me\nfor that very purpose, so that you might show your greatness by\nrejecting it, the deadliest bribe that the god of Ill ever offered to\nmortal woman.\"\n\n\"Or perchance by accepting it, Master!\"\n\n\"Nay, nay! Bethink you. Is the world a fit place for the undying?\nMoreover, this secret that I guard is but the world's spirit, not that\nof immortality; the hidden force from which our earth draws its\nstrength, but which will perish with the earth, as it must do upon a\nday still hidden in the deeps of time. The drinker of that cup\ntherefore would become, not eternal, but long-lived only, destined to\nperish at last with this passing star. For him death would not be\ndestroyed, it would only be delayed, waiting ever to snare him in the\nend. Meanwhile he must endure desolate and alone, watching the\ngenerations pass one by one to their appointed rest; while, filled\nperchance with fearful appetites which he must know eternally and yet\nremain unsatisfied, he stands but as a frozen rock upon the plain,\nwearing a human shape, yet alien to mortality, though still torn by\nits ambitions, its loves, its hates, its hopes, its fears, and waiting\nterrified for that predestined moment when this globe shall crumble\nand death shall devour it and him.\n\n\"I am old, I am feeble, my hour is well nigh done, I pass to my repose\nin Heaven. Ayesha, I have no strength to stay your feet, if you elect\nto drink this cup my weak hand cannot dash it from your lips. Yet as\none who has taught and loved you, as one to whom the gods have given\nwisdom, I pray you to thrust aside this great temptation. As our faith\nteaches truly, already your spirit is immortal and has its home\nprepared above. Desire not, therefore, to perpetuate your flesh, since\nif you do, Ayesha, I tell you that you will become but as a painted\nmummy in a tomb, simulating life, yet dead and cold within. Swear to\nme, Daughter, that you will lock this knowledge in your heart and\nthrust the poison from your lips.\"\n\n\"You speak wisely,\" I answered, \"aye, as one inspired by the truth,\nand though I take no oaths, it is my purpose to do your will. Yet,\nFather, what is this secret? Having told me so much, tell all, lest I\nshould go to discover it for myself.\"\n\n\"Daughter, near to this ancient city, amid the mountain cliffs, deep\nin the bowels of the rocks burns a travelling fire which is the very\nsoul of the world, the flaming heart that gives it life. Yet this fire\nis no fire, but rather the essence of existence, and he who bathes in\nit will be filled with that essence and endure while it endures.\"\n\n\"Perchance such a one might be destroyed by that fire,\" I answered\ndoubtfully.\n\n\"Daughter, I would that I could leave you thinking thus, for then a\ngreat fear would pass from me. But we who are the chief servants of\nIsis dare not hide the truth one from another, since to do so is to\nbreak our oaths. Moreover, in this matter I do not speak with my own\nvoice, but with that of a Strength which is greater than I, to whom\nnow I stand so near that almost it and I are one. Therefore to your\neyes I must withdraw all veils, showing you what is, as it is, and not\nas I would have it be. Yonder fire will not destroy the mortal who\nfinds the courage to stand in its raging path; it will give him life,\nand with it such strength, such beauty, and such wisdom as have never\nbeen the lot of man born of woman. Also it will give him such\npassions, such despairs, such unending woes as hitherto no mortal\nheart has known.\n\n\"There is the truth. Ask me not how it comes into my keeping and what\nthat voice may be which is speaking it through my lips. A minute gone\nthis truth was mine alone, or perchance mine and one other's. Now it\nis yours also, and being yours, I pray to that Divine from which we\ncome and whither we return again, that it may give you strength and\nthe true wisdom, knowing all, to reject all, and turning aside from\nthis glittering guerdon of enduring life, patiently to walk your human\npath to the end appointed to our human feet.\"\n\n\"Will you show me this fire, Prophet?\"\n\n\"Aye, if you will, for so I am commanded,\" he answered faintly; \"yet\nwhy look upon that which must excite desire?\"\n\nThen weariness overcame him and he sank down swooning, so that had I\nnot caught him, he would have fallen.\n\n\nNoot abode three days at K\u00f4r and talked with me of many things, but\nat that time of the wonderful Secret of Life he spoke no more. As\nthough by consent both of us let that matter lie awhile. For the rest\nthere was much to say. I told him everything that had passed in Egypt\nand the outer world since long years before he had left me to sail\ndown Nile, never to return. I told him how I had obeyed his last\ncommands to the letter, and surrounded though I was by foes, had\npreserved the worship of Isis in her temple from season to season,\ncelebrating her festivals in their appointed course, though I never\ndared to leave its walls.\n\n\"So, Ayesha,\" he said when I had done, \"while I have been a hermit\nhere at K\u00f4r, you have been a hermit at Memphis. Well, each of us has\nserved the goddess as best might be, so may she reward us both\naccording to our deserts, which doubtless are but small. And now my\ntask is finished, but yours lies before you, seeing that you still\nhave strength, even if your youth has gone.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I answered somewhat bitterly, \"mid-age has overtaken me, my\nyouth has passed in the service of Heaven, and what has Heaven given\nto me after all my wars and strivings? Just this--that in a savage,\ndesolate land among ruins and barbarians I must begin anew. I must\nrestore a faith decayed, collect those barbarians into armies and\norder them, enact laws and cause them to be obeyed, fight battles,\ntill lands, build ships and carry on commerce, collect revenues and\nspend them wisely, labour without cease day by day, finding but little\nrest at night because of the troubles that await the morrow. I must be\nat once a high-priestess, an oracle, a general, a law-giver, a judge,\nan architect, a land-tiller and a queen beneath an alien sky; without\ncounsel, without friends, without love, without children to tend me in\nmy age or to pile the earth upon my bones. Such is the lot that the\ngoddess has given to her priestess Ayesha in payment of all her\nstrivings.\"\n\nThus I spoke bitterly enough, but Noot answered with a gentle smile,\n\n\"At least, Daughter, it might have been more evil. You have a planning\nand a thoughtful mind and here you can shape all things afresh to your\ndesire. You love power and here you will be absolute, a very queen,\nyou who cannot brook denial. Here there will be none to say you nay.\nYou hate rivals who would rule alone. Here they will be lacking. You\ndesire to remain celibate who are wed to the spirit. Here no more\nkings or others will come to trouble you, plotting to win your beauty.\nIt has ever been your wish to commune with Nature and that Divine from\nwhich it springs; here in this deserted place is Nature's very home\nand in solitude the Divine draws near to empty souls.\n\n\"Truly you should be thankful, therefore, whose prayers have been\nfulfilled, who have attained to all you sought, whose ambitions are\nsatisfied and who in the holy calm and the healthful weariness that\nfollows upon long-continued labours, at last when your task is done,\nwill sink gently to the grave to seek their reward elsewhere. Soon,\nvery soon, you will be as I am and when that day comes there will be\nan empty hermitage yonder where in darkness and in contemplation you\ncan patiently await the end and those new endeavours which, after it,\nmay be appointed to you elsewhere. For be sure of this, Ayesha--all\nexistence is a ladder up which painfully and with many slips we must\nclimb step by step.\"\n\n\"And when we reach the top, what then, Master?\"\n\n\"I do not know, Daughter, but I do know that if we fall to the bottom,\nall those steps must be climbed again, only this time the rungs of the\nladder will be wreathed with thorns.\"\n\n\"It seems that yonder hermitage of yours is no home of joy, my\nFather.\"\n\n\"Nay, Daughter. It is a home of grief and of repentance. The joy lies\nbeyond. Such are the philosophy of life and the teachings of all\nreligion. Be sorrowful and afterward you will rejoice. Rejoice and\nafterward you will be sorrowful.\"\n\n\"A sad philosophy, Prophet, and such lessons as slaves learn beneath\nthe whip.\"\n\n\"Aye, Ayesha, but one that must be endured, as, if they could speak,\nTenes and Ochus and Nectanebes would tell you to-day.\"\n\nSo he droned on who grew weak and senile, having become but the dry\nshell of a man, whence the sap had withered, like to a sterile nut\nindeed, from which, if it were sown, no shoot would spring. At length\nwearying of his melancholy talk, I fell to the thought of that Fire of\nLife raging in its eternal vigour beneath his hermitage, which, as he\nswore, would give unending beauty, youth, glory, and dominion to him\nwho could find faith and courage to dare its terrors.\n\n\nOn the following day I accompanied Noot back to his hermitage for the\nquiet of which he seemed to yearn, so much so indeed that even for my\nsake whom he loved more than anything on earth and in whose fellowship\nhe delighted, he would not be separated from it for another hour.\n\nIt was a rough journey that we made borne in litters to the foot of\nthe great precipice which surrounds the plain of K\u00f4r like to a\nmeasureless wall chiselled by Titans at the shaping of the world. We\nclimbed up a cleft in that wall and entered a hidden fold of rock,\ninvisible from below. Following this fold we came to the mouth of a\ncave. Here I noted that food was set in plenty by the dwellers in this\nland who revered Noot as a prophet and thus supplied him with his\nsustenance. Here also were torches which were lit by those who\naccompanied us to give us light upon our journey through the cave that\nwas long and rough. At length we came to its end to find before us a\nterrible chasm. Thousands of feet above us was a line of blue sky and\nbeneath lay a gulf of darkness. Out into this chasm down which winds\nraved and howled, ran a giant spur of rock of which the end was lost\nin darkness. I looked at it doubtfully and said,\n\n\"Where then is your habitation, Noot, and by what road is it reached?\"\n\n\"It lies yonder in the darkness, Daughter,\" he answered, smiling, \"and\nthis is the road that those who would visit me must travel,\" and he\npointed to the spur of rock that trembled in the roaring gale, adding,\n\"To my feet it is familiar; moreover, I know that on it as elsewhere I\nam protected from harm. But if you fear to walk such a path, turn back\nwhile there is still time. Perhaps it would be better that you should\nturn back.\"\n\nNow I looked at the trembling rock and then I looked at Noot, my\nMaster.\n\n\"What,\" thought I to myself, \"shall I, Ayesha, who dread neither man\nnor devil, be afraid to follow where this frail old priest can lead?\nNever will I blench from peril though in it lies my death.\"\n\nSo I stared him in the face and answered,\n\n\"To the task, Father, and swiftly, for here the wind blows chill. I go\nfirst; Philo, follow me close.\"\n\nNow Philo, who was my companion upon this adventure, glanced at me\nwith questioning eyes, but being a brave man and one who as a sailor\nwas accustomed to perilous heights, said nothing.\n\nFor a moment Noot paused, looking upward, perchance to pray or\nperchance for other reasons. Then having asked Philo how long it was\nto the time of sunset and been answered it lacked between the half and\nthe fourth part of an hour before Ra sank behind the western cliff, he\nstarted, walking boldly down the spur. I followed next, and last came\nPhilo.\n\nVery terrible was that journey in the uncertain light which as we\nprogressed into the gulf grew ever fainter, till at last we were\nwrapped about with gloom. Moreover, always the spur of rock narrowed,\nand the raving gusts of wind which blew about that hideous gorge\nbuffeted us more fiercely.\n\nStill we went on leaning our weight against them, and as we went a\nkind of exaltation seized me, as it does always in moments of great\ndanger, so that my heart grew bold and feared no more. I would match\nmyself against these elemental strengths as I had matched myself\nagainst those of hostile and desiring kings, and conquer them. Or\nperchance it was the breath from the divine fire that burned below\nthat already had entered into me. I cannot say, but this I remember,\nthat before I had reached the point of that fearful rock I was filled\nwith a wild joy and could laugh at Philo crawling after me with\nhesitating steps and breathing prayers now to Isis and now to the\nGrecian gods that he had worshipped as a child.\n\nAt length we came to the end of that long needle which thrust itself\nthus into the dark stuff of space, and as we did so all light went out\nof the sky above, leaving us plunged in blackness. I seated myself\nupon the throbbing point of rock, clinging to Philo who had done\nlikewise, and cried into the ear of Noot, kneeling at our side,\n\n\"What now? Show us and be swift, lest we should be thrown from this\nplace like stones from a sling.\"\n\n\"Hold fast and wait,\" answered Noot.\n\nWe did so, grasping the roughness of the rock with our hands. Then\nsuddenly a marvel happened, since from somewhere, I know not whence\nand have never learned, a fierce red ray of light, cast doubtless by\nthe setting sun, struck us through some hole in the opposing cliffs.\nAye, it struck like a blazing sword, showing all things that could be\nseen. They were these: ourselves crouched upon that point of rock;\ninfinite space beneath us, infinite space above reaching up to a\nsingle star that shone upon the sky, and we three hemmed in by two\nblack precipices. Moreover, they showed, not four paces from the\npoint, a huge trembling stone that was joined to that fearsome spar by\na little bridge of wood laid from the one to the other by the hand of\nman, which bridge rose and fell and rocked as the great stone trembled\non its farther side.\n\n\"Follow me swiftly before the light dies,\" cried Noot as he stepped\nacross this bridge and, reaching the crest of the trembling stone,\nstood there like a ghost illumined with fire; like also to that figure\nwhich I had seen watching from the brow of the Ethiopian's head when\nwe entered the harbour from the sea.\n\nI obeyed and joined him, and after me came Philo.\n\nBy the last rays of that fleeting light we descended a rough stairway\ncut on the farther side of the Trembling Stone and of a sudden found\nourselves in shelter. Light sprang up and I saw that it was held in\nthe hand of a dwarf, a curious, solemn dwarf. Whence this creature\ncame and who he was I do not know, but I think that he must have been\na spirit, some gnome from the Under-world appointed by the Powers\nwhich ruled in that dark place to attend to the wants of the holy\nNoot, their Master and mine.\n\nThis I noted at least, and so did Philo, that we could never see this\ncreature's face. Even when he moved about us, always it seemed to be\nhidden either by shadows or something that hung in front of it like a\nveil. Yet man, or gnome, or ghost, he was a good servant, since in\nthat hermit's cave, or rather caves, for there were several of them,\njoined one to the other, all things were made ready. Thus a fire\nburned, food was prepared upon a table, and in the inner caves beds\nwere spread, each in a little separate chamber.\n\nThe outer cave also was furnished in a fashion and I noted that in a\nniche stood the small statue of Isis which I remembered well, since\nwherever Noot my Master went in the past years when we journeyed\ntogether, that statue went with him and now still it was his\ncompanion. Indeed the tale was that it could speak and gave him\ncounsel in all hours of doubt and trouble, and that from this\nenchanted thing he gathered his great wisdom. Whether or no this tale\nwere true, I do not know, since I never heard it utter words, nor\nwould Noot tell me when I asked him. Yet it is true that it was his\ncustom to pray to it; also that it was very ancient and valued by him\nmore than all the gold and jewels on the earth. Now it stood here as\nit had done in my Father's house at Ozal, as it had done at Phil\u00e6 in\nhis chamber, at Memphis, on the ship _Hapi_ and elsewhere when we\njourneyed together throughout the world, and it was strange to me to\nbehold its familiar face again in this dreadful habitation.\n\n\"Eat,\" said Noot, \"then sleep, for you are weary.\"\n\nPhilo and I did as he commanded. We ate, we laid ourselves down upon\nthe beds in the inner caves, and slept. The last thing that my eyes\nsaw before slumber closed them was Noot my Master, now become more of\na spirit than a man, kneeling in solemn prayer before the hallowed\neffigy of Isis.\n\nI know not for how long we slept, but it must have been many hours,\nfor when we woke it was to see that dwarf whose face was always\nhidden, setting another meal upon the table in the outer cave. There,\ntoo, by the lamplight, I perceived Noot still praying to the statue of\nIsis as though he had never risen from his knees, which perchance he\nhad not done who no longer was as are other men. It was a strange\nsight in that dread place and one that affrighted Philo, as he told\nme, and left me not unmoved, who felt that here we stood upon the edge\nof mortal things.\n\nI went to him, and seeing me come, he rose from his knees to greet me,\nasking me whether I had rested well.\n\n\"Neither well nor ill,\" I answered. \"I slept, yet my sleep was full of\ndreams, very strange dreams that boded I know not what. They told me\nboth of the past and of the future, and the burden of them was that I\nseemed to see myself living alone from generation to generation in\ncaves as you do to-day.\"\n\n\"May the gods defend you from such a fate, Daughter,\" he answered as\nthough the thought disturbed him.\n\n\"They have not defended you, Father. Oh! how can you bear to dwell in\nthe darkness of this dreadful place round which the winds howl\neternally, companioned only by your thoughts and a dwarf who never\nspeaks? How did you find it, how came you here, and what put into your\nmind the thought of choosing this burrow for a hermitage? Tell me\ntruly, who as yet, I think, have hidden half the truth even from me,\nfor I am devoured with wonder and would understand.\"\n\n\"Hearken, Ayesha. When first we met in Arabia I was already very old,\nwas I not, I who now long have passed the tale of man's allotted days?\nBefore that time for many years I had been a head-priest and prophet\nof Isis in Egypt, also the chief Magician of that land. Yet I was not\nborn an Egyptian nor did my eyes so much as look upon the Nile until I\nhad counted over sixty summers.\"\n\n\"Where then were you born, Father?\"\n\n\"Here in K\u00f4r. I am the last descendant of the king-priests who ruled\nin K\u00f4r before the great apostasy and the falling of the Sword of God.\nTo the holy men who were my fathers had descended their knowledge of\nthat secret of secrets whereof I have spoken to you, and ever it was\ntheir custom when age took a hold of them to withdraw into this living\nsepulchre and there as guardians of the Fire, to await the end. Also\nunder many oaths each of them passed on to his descendants the\nknowledge of the secret.\n\n\"Thus, Daughter, it came into my keeping, for my grandsire told my\nfather, and my father whispered it to me. Then, while my grandsire\nstill lived, the goddess for her own ends of which now I think I see\nthe purpose, called me from this desolate land away to Egypt, there to\nserve her as I have done. Again she called me to Arabia that there you\nmight be given into my keeping, as you were for certain years. A third\ntime she called me back to K\u00f4r, whither I came with Philo. Here I\nfound my grandsire dead and his son, my father, dead after him,\nleaving the hermitage of the Watcher of the Fire untenanted. Therefore\nsetting Philo to command the savage tribes who dwell around the ruins\nof haunted K\u00f4r, hither I came, as for generations my forbears have\ndone, to fill the office that they filled, and--to die.\"\n\n\"Forgetting me upon whose head you left a heavy burden, my Father in\nIsis,\" I said bitterly.\n\n\"Nay, Ayesha, I forgot you not, who knew well that at the appointed\ntime we should meet once more, as met we have. Always in my prayers I\nhave watched over you and many of your troubles and dangers have been\nmade known to me in dreams. It was in a dream that I heard you calling\nfor guidance, and sent the answer that was commanded. Aye, and before\nthat already I had despatched Philo to Egypt to bring you to me, as\nalso I was commanded. And now you stand here before me in my hermitage\nand I tell you all these things because last night I learned, while I\nprayed and you were lost in sleep, that we shall speak no more\ntogether. My hour is at hand and since I have no child of my body, to\nyou, my child in the Spirit, I pass on the great secret as to you\nalready I have passed on my high office and my wisdom. When the breath\nhas left me, Ayesha, then to you will descend the guardianship of the\nFire, and here, doubtless, when age has overtaken you, you also will\nend your days.\"\n\n\"Is it so?\" I asked, dismayed, staring around me at the rocky walls\nand listening to the tempest that raged eternally without.\n\n\"Aye, Ayesha, it is so, since that is the high duty laid upon your\nsoul, whereby it shall find wings to fly to Heaven. Know that no\nGuardian of the Fire enters into the Fire. He watches it--no more--and\nif it is threatened he seals it for ever from the sight of man.\nListen, I will tell you how,\" and leaning forward he whispered certain\nwords into my ear and showed me certain hidden things.\n\nI heard, I saw, I bowed my head. Then I asked,\n\n\"And if the Guardian of the Fire entered into the Fire, what then,\nWatcher of the Fire?\"\n\n\"Daughter, I know not,\" he answered, horror-struck. \"But then I think\nthe Fire would become _his_ guardian, a terrible guardian that at the\nlast would also be the destroyer of its false servant. More I cannot\ntell, because though some have breathed its essence, none of them has\ndared this deed.\"\n\n\"Two nights ago you told me, O Noot, that this fire gives youth and\nbeauty and uncounted days to those who bathe therein. If none has ever\nentered it, how know you this?\"\n\n\"Because it is so, Ayesha. Moreover, I did not say that none had ever\nentered it. Perchance there are beings now known to the world as gods\nor d\u00e6mons, who, by accident rather than design, have tasted of this\ncup. Perchance that shape you saw standing on the Ethiopian's head, in\nsome bygone age stood for an instant in its path. At least I repeat\nthat it is so. Believe or disbelieve as you will, but ask me no more,\nand above all do not venture to solve the mystery in your mortal\nflesh.\"\n\n\"At least, Prophet, let me look upon that which I must guard,\" I said.\n\n\"Aye, you shall look,\" he answered. \"It is for that reason that I have\nbrought you here, Priestess and Daughter of Wisdom, for having looked,\nI do not think that you will desire to bathe in that red flame. Eat\nnow and make ready.\"\n\n\n CHAPTER XX\n The Coming of Kallikrates\n\nAwhile later we left the cave, Noot, Philo, and I, each of us\nbearing a lighted lamp. Clad in a dark cloak Noot led the way, his\nlamp in one hand and in the other a long staff such as herdsmen use\nupon the mountain side. Strange enough he seemed thus arrayed, with\nhis thin, transparent face, his eyes grown large and luminous from\nstaring at the darkness, and his long white beard showing like snow\nagainst the black texture of the cloak; more of a spirit than a man\nindeed, or like Charon leading shadows of the dead to that boat in\nwhich all--aye, even I, Ayesha--must embark at last. Never shall I\nforget his aspect as he searched for and found the stair that led to\nthe rock-strewn slope which stretched downward for a furlong or more\nto the narrow passage at its end, through which presently we travelled\ninto the infernal halls beyond.\n\nGreat were those halls or caverns; so great that we light-bearers were\nbut as ants creeping through their vastness, so great that we could\nsee neither their walls nor roof.\n\nWe passed through two of them, our footfalls echoing in their fearful\nsilence, and came to a passage.\n\n\"Bide here,\" said Noot to Philo, \"and await us, since it is not lawful\nfor you to look upon that which lies beyond. If perchance we should\nnot return within three hours so nearly as you can measure them, which\nmay happen since we go to where there is danger for mankind, win your\nway back to the world and say that the gods have taken Noot the\nProphet and Ayesha the High-Priestess to be of their company.\"\n\nSo Philo, out of whose eyes all the Grecian joyousness had fled, sat\nhimself down upon a rock to wait, as I could see unwillingly enough,\nfor he loved this adventure little and was troubled for the safety of\nme whom he loved much.\n\n\"Fear not,\" I whispered to him, \"the hour is still far in which Ayesha\nmust fall a ripe fruit from the Tree of Life.\"\n\n\"I pray so, Child of Isis,\" he answered, \"since surely we have entered\ninto Hades where I would not be left without so much as a fellow shade\nto comfort me. Yet beware! for I know not whither that old ghost is\nleading you,\" and he glanced at the tall shape of Noot striding into\nthe tunnel in which this cave ended, the lamp held above his head.\n\nI followed after him, also holding my lamp aloft, though presently it\nbecame needless since now the darkness of that hole grew alive with\nrosy light. On like a swift shadow glided Noot, and I followed him\ninto the heart of the light, into a place, too, where thunder was\nimprisoned, like winds in the bag of \u00c6olus, aye, a place filled with\nglories and with roarings, though whence these came I could not guess.\n\nWe entered yet another cavern, not so very large in size and carpeted\nwith fine white sand.\n\nIt was empty save for one thing. On the sand lay a withered shape, a\nhideous little shape that once had been man or woman. Whose it was and\nhow it came there I never learned, since in the marvel of all that\nfollowed and afterward I forgot to ask it of Noot, if indeed he could\nhave told me. Perchance some seeker of the Fire who lived a thousand\nor ten thousand years before had perished of terror at the sight of\nit, or perchance for his or her impiety that seeker had been\nsacrificed by gods or men. Yet even then I thought it dreadful and\nominous that the first sight my eyes beheld in this terrible place\nshould be this shrivelled, long-haired lump of death lying there in\neternal solitude, while in front of and around it played the fierce\nessences of Life eternal.\n\nThis cavern was filled with a light like to that of some tempestuous\nLibyan dawn. Also it was filled with a muttering, thunderous sound,\nsuch sound as is caused by the iron wheels of a thousand chariots\nrushing to battle adown a rocky way. The light multiplied and was\nstabbed through as though by many coloured levins flashing hither and\nthither; the thunders gathered to an awful roar; those unearthly\nchariots were rolling down upon us.\n\n\"To your knees,\" cried Noot in my ear. \"The Fire comes, the god is\npassing by!\"\n\nI knelt; my hand rested by chance upon that little shrivelled form,\nand lo! at my touch it crumbled into dust. It had been, it was not;\nthe grinning twisted face was gone; nothing of it remained save a lock\nor two of curling hair--surely it must have been a woman's hair. Then\nthe marvel happened. Before me appeared a turning column of glorious,\nmany-coloured brightness, that roared and bellowed like a million\nmaddened bulls. To my eyes it seemed to take the shape of a mighty\nman, and in its glowing crest I saw green eyes of emerald like to\nthose of tigers, which eyes fixed themselves upon me. Arms it had\nalso, blood-red, splendid arms that stretched themselves toward me as\nthough to clasp me to that burning breast. It was terrible and yet it\nwas most beauteous. Never until I saw it had I known beauty, no not\neven in the dawn or in the sunset, or in the sight of the wild shock\nof battle.\n\nThis mighty god of Life seemed to call to the life within me, like a\nking to his subject, like a master to his slave; I longed to lose\nmyself in that embrace of fire. Half I rose from my knees. Noot caught\nme by the arm.\n\n\"Enter not!\" he cried sternly, and again I sank down and hid my face\nupon the sand.\n\nHow long I lay there I do not know, for exaltation seized me and made\nmy senses drunk, so that I could take no count of time. It may have\nbeen for a minute or an hour; I say I do not know. When I looked up\nagain, the Fire had gone by, the god was hidden in his secret\nsanctuary, though still the cavern glowed with rosy light.\n\n\nNoot drew me from that place. Without we found Philo pale-lipped and\ntrembling, and together, slowly and with labour, we climbed our upward\ncourse back to the hermitage beneath the swaying stone. Here we rested\nin silence until at last Noot drew me aside and spoke.\n\n\"Ayesha,\" he said, \"you have seen as it was decreed that you must see.\nIn that burning presence temptation took hold of you, so sharp a hold\nthat had I not been there, perchance you would have yielded,\nforgetting my warnings and my prayers. Now I beseech you, guard the\nFire in the days to come, but look on it no more for ever, since\nalthough in other matters you are so strong, in this I feel you frail.\nWhile I live indeed never again shall you behold it with your eyes,\nsince first I will call upon the goddess to cut your thread of life\nand take you to herself.\"\n\nI bowed my head but made no answer, nor did he ask for any.\n\nWhat happened then? Oh! I remember that we ate of food that was made\nready doubtless by the gnome-like dwarf whom I saw no more. After this\nNoot looked from the door of his hermitage and called to us to come\nswiftly, since the moment of sunset that brought with it the falling\nray was at hand and the bridge must be crossed and the narrowest of\nthe stone spur travelled ere it departed. Holding lighted lanterns in\nour hands, he led us to the crest of the Trembling Stone whereon the\ntimbers of the bridge creaked and swayed. Here he clasped me in his\narms, blessing me and bidding me farewell, and though he said it not,\nI was certain that in his mind, as at the moment I did in mine, he\nbelieved that our spirits parted for ever upon this earth; yes,\nbelieved it so surely that tears coursed down his pale cheeks.\n\nThen suddenly the sword-like ray of fire stabbed the darkness and by\nit I and Philo crossed the bridge and while it endured clambered\nswiftly along the spur of which, I know not why, all fear had left me.\n\nAs that ray began to fade I turned my head to look my last on Noot.\nThere in the heart of it he stood, clothed as it were with fire, as\nour faith tells are the messengers of Isis, Queen of Heaven. Yes,\nthere he stood with clasped hands and uplifted eyes like to one lost\nin prayer. Then the ray went out like a blown lamp and the darkness\nfell and swallowed him.\n\nWe gained the plain in safety and through the night were borne back to\nK\u00f4r. The litter swayed; the slaves whose shoulders bent beneath the\npole sang their low, weird chant inviting to sleep, but its messengers\nwould not touch my eyelids with their rod of slumber. I could not\nsleep whose soul burned with a fierce wakefulness. Oh! what was this\nwonder that I had seen? The very fount of Life that, hidden from\nmankind, burns in the womb of the world! But if it were this, why did\nNoot speak of it as though it were a fount of Death? Why did he forbid\nme to taste its cup? Perhaps because not Life but Death inhabited that\nflame, as the little withered thing which had crumbled at my touch,\nthat once had been man or woman--woman, as I think--hinted to the\nmind.\n\nI knew not, but what I did know was that henceforth I was plighted to\nthis god of Fire and that in some day to come I must feel his burning\nmarriage kiss upon my brow.\n\n\nWhen we came to K\u00f4r at the sunrise I beckoned Philo to me and made to\nhim the sign of silence, which being initiated, he knew well, so that\nneither then nor at any other time should any word concerning these\nmysteries pass his lips. Nor indeed could it do so as he had not\nlooked upon the greatest of them and only from afar had listened to\nthe thunder of the wheeling flame.\n\nThen with a new energy, as though inspired by the breath of that fiery\ngod, I got me to my common daily task of rebuilding a perished faith\nand people. Let that business be. Why should I speak of it, since\nDestiny decreed that I must shape my work of water or of drifting\nsand, not of rock or fired clay. Oh! Fate, why didst thou fool me\nthus? Oh, Love the Destroyer, why didst thou make of me thy tool, and\nwith me thus bring Isis and her worship to the dust?\n\n\nHow long afterward was it that Kallikrates came? But a little while, I\nthink, though to one who has lived over two thousand years Time loses\nits measure and significance.\n\nI had sent Philo to the coast, purposing to prepare for the opening up\nof trade and converse with the outer world. For in this rich place,\nwhen its wild people were brought beneath my yoke, who already looked\nupon me as one half divine, as the spirit of their ancient goddess\nindeed, sent back to them from Heaven, I knew that we could produce\nmuch that the teeming tribes of Libya would seek and buy. One night he\nreturned and was at once admitted to my presence. He told me of all\nthat he had done, or failed to do, and I praised him, then made the\nsignal of dismissal. He hesitated a while, then said,\n\n\"Child of Isis, be pleased to learn that I have not returned alone.\"\n\n\"That I know already, Philo, since there were many in your company.\"\n\n\"Be it understood, Child of Isis, that I have brought back with me\nsome with whom I did not set forth.\"\n\n\"Doubtless envoys from the peoples of the coast,\" I answered\nindifferently.\n\n\"Nay,\" he replied, \"travellers who have wandered long among those\npeoples and whom I found shipwrecked and in a desperate state.\nTravellers from Egypt.\"\n\n\"From Egypt! How many, Philo?\"\n\n\"Nine in all, Prophetess, though the most of them are servants.\"\n\n\"Good, Philo. It will please me who must dwell so much alone to talk\nwith strangers from Egypt. They may have news of what passes on the\nNile. Give them hospitality such as we can command, and all they need,\nand to-morrow, after the morning ceremonies, bring them to me.\nTo-night it is too late and doubtless they are weary.\"\n\nAgain he hesitated, then bowed, and went, leaving me wondering, for\nthere was that in his manner which I thought strange. Still, having\nspoken my commands, I would not alter them. Yet as I laid me down to\nsleep terror took hold of me; yes, a terror of I knew not what. I felt\nthat evil overshadowed me with its black wings; that I was about to\nlook upon something or someone I did not desire to see; that a doom\nunknown had meshed me so that I lay helpless like a gladiator over\nwhom the net-thrower has cast his web and who lies struggling vainly,\nthe trident at his throat. Thus often does advancing peril cast its\ncold shadow upon our mortal hearts which shiver at the touch of that\nthey feel but cannot discern.\n\nI thought that perchance I was about to die, that already Death\ngripped me with his clasp of ice; that in the dark recesses of the\nchamber where I lay already some murderer fingered the dagger which\nshould pierce my breast, as well might happen in this wild land among\nman-eating savages upon whose necks I had set my heel. Again I thought\nthat the spirits of the ancient dead whose place I occupied, were\nhunting me, demanding that I should give them back their own, the rule\nI had usurped.\n\nNext I remembered Tenes transfixed by the sword of vengeance and\nknowing now that mine was the hand that drove it, and Ochus Artaxerxes\nwhen the poison began to burn his vitals as presently the fire would\nburn his company, guessing at the last that I, the outraged priestess,\nhad brewed the cup and lit the fire. Yea, all these memories gathered\nround me, rising like black clouds upon my sky of life and threatening\nits eclipse, I who was terrified of I knew not what.\n\nLastly there came into my mind this tale of Philo's of shipwrecked\nstrangers whom he had rescued and led hither to be comforted. Who were\nthese strangers, I wondered? Assassins perchance, hid under a disguise\nof want and desolation, men who sought to kill me and free my spirit\nwith their dagger-points, that it might no longer watch them here on\nearth. Yet, and this was marvellous, showing how blind are the eyes of\nour mortal flesh, never did the thought come to me that those\nstrangers might be Kallikrates the Greek and Amenartas, aforetime\nRoyal Princess of Egypt, she whom her desire and hate had made my foe.\n\nI slept at last, though feverishly, only to wake when the high sun was\nflooding the temple court with its fierce summer rays. I rose, and\nsince the day was one of ceremony and festival, was arrayed by my\nwomen in the queenly garments of the high-priestess of Isis and hung\nabout with the sacred jewels and emblems of my rank.\n\nThus splendidly attired, I was led to my seat of state that I had\ncaused to be placed in the inmost pillared court before a wondrous\nveiled statue of Truth standing on the world, which some god-gifted\nartist of old K\u00f4r had fashioned in the forgotten days. Here we\ncelebrated our service with pomp and ritual, as once we were wont to\ndo in Egypt, though alas! the hierophants and the singers were few in\nnumber. So was the outer congregation of half-converted worshippers\ncreeping back from the blackness of their barbarous rites to the holy\nfellowship of the goddess.\n\nThe office was ended, the ringing of the _sistrum_ had ceased, the\nblessing was given and with it the absolution of offences.\n\nThe worshippers had dispersed, save here and there one who remained to\npray. I too was about to depart when Philo came, saying, humbly and\nhastily like one who desires to be done with an unwelcome task, that\nthose wanderers of whom he had spoken waited upon my pleasure.\n\n\"Admit them,\" I answered, wondering within myself upon whom I was\nabout to look. Malefactors perchance, I thought, who had fled from\njustice into far lands, or merchants driven southward by the gales, or\nhumble seamen escaped from some sunk ship.\n\nThey came, a little knot of them, winding in and out between the great\ncolumns of the ruined temple, advancing through the shadows. Idly I\nnoted, as they passed an open space where fell a stronger light, that\nthe two who walked first had a noble air, different from that of those\nwho followed after them. Then once more the shadows veiled them,\nwhence presently they emerged before me, seated beneath the statue,\nand stood there, the sun's rays pouring down upon them.\n\nI glanced at them and saw that they were man and woman, perfect man\nand very beauteous woman. Then I lifted my head and looked them fully\nin the face, only to sink back terrified, amazed, overwhelmed! Did I\ndream? Had some mocking spirit tricked my eyes, or were these that\nstood before me Kallikrates, the Grecian warrior-priest, and\nAmenartas, the Royal Princess of Egypt?\n\nLifting my hand to hide my face, I studied them beneath its shade. Oh!\nwho could be mistaken? There before me, splendid in beauty as of old,\nstood the god-like Kallikrates and at his side, dark, magnificent and\nas yet untouched by time, or perchance protected from its ravages by\narts she learned from her sire, Nectanebes the sorcerer, was the\nimperial Amenartas. For a moment I kept silence, gathering up my\nstrength, ordering my spirit. Then still holding my hand before my\nface, I spoke coldly as though without concern, saying,\n\n\"Whence come you, noble strangers? What are your names and why do you\nseek the hospitality of the Queen of this ruined land of K\u00f4r?\"\n\nBold as ever, it was Amenartas who answered me, not Kallikrates, who\nstood staring about him as men do when they are uneasy in their minds\nor wearied with ceremonies.\n\n\"We are wanderers, Priestess, in station neither mean nor great;\ntraders, to tell the truth, from the far north, who having suffered\nshipwreck and many other things at length were rescued of this servant\nof yours who led us here,\" and she pointed to Philo standing near by\nwith a stupid smile upon his face.\n\n\"By race we are Ph\u0153nicians called----\" and she gave some name that I\nforget. \"As to the rest, being in extremity, for those over whom we\nruled rebelled against us and cast us out, we ask shelter from you\nuntil Fortune smiles upon us again, who of late has dealt us naught\nbut frowns.\"\n\n\"It is granted, Lady. But tell me, what are you to each other? Brother\nand sister, perchance?\"\n\n\"Aye, Priestess, brother and sister, as you have rightly guessed,\nseeing that our names are one name.\"\n\n\"That is strange, Lady; indeed I think that you throw mud upon your\nfather or your mother, or both, since how could these have begotten\none dark, a high-born daughter of the Nile, and another fair as Apollo\nand having Grecian Apollo's face and mien? Again, how comes it that\nthe sister of a Ph\u0153nician merchant binds up her locks with the\ncirclet of Egyptian royalty?\" And I pointed to the ur\u00e6us-twisted band\nof gold upon her brow.\n\n\"Blood plays strange tricks, Priestess, searching out now the likeness\nof one ancestor, and now of another, so that ofttimes one child is\nborn dark and the other fair. As for the ornament, I bought it in\ntrade from an Arab merchant, not knowing whence it came or its\nsignificance,\" she began to answer unabashed, when of a sudden\nKallikrates checked her, muttering,\n\n\"Have done!\" Then addressing me, he said,\n\n\"O Queen and Priestess, take no heed of this lady's words, since of\nlate, because of our misfortunes, we have been forced to tell many\nstrange tales according to the conditions of the hour. We are not\nPh\u0153nicians born of one House; we are by blood Greek and Egyptian, and\nby relation not brother and sister, but man and wife.\"\n\nNow when I heard these words my heart stood still who hoped that Isis\nand their oaths might have held this pair apart. Yet I answered\ncalmly,\n\n\"Is it so, Wanderer? Tell me then, of what faith are you twain and by\nwhom were you wed? Did some minister of Zeus join your hands, or did\nyou stand together before Hathor's altars?\"\n\nThen while he searched for some answer that he could not find, I went\non, laughing a little,\n\n\"Perchance, O noble pair, you were not wed at all. Perchance you are\nnot husband and wife but only lover and lover mated after Nature's\nfashion!\"\n\nHe hung his head, confused, and even the bold eyes of Amenartas were\ntroubled.\n\nNow I could bear no more.\n\n\"O Grecian Kallikrates,\" I said, \"aforetime captain of Pharaoh's\nguard, aforetime priest of Isis, and O Amenartas, daughter of\nNectanebes, by birth Royal Princess of Egypt, why do you waste words,\nhoping to fool one who cannot be deceived? Doubtless you have bribed\nyonder Philo to hide the truth, as once you bribed him to hide a\ncertain lady upon his ship and to set the two of you ashore upon a\ncertain island.\"\n\n\"If so, he has betrayed us,\" stammered Kallikrates, the red blood\nrising to his brow.\n\n\"Nay, he has not betrayed you, being one who ever keeps faith with\nthose who pay him well. Is it not so, Philo my servant?\"\n\nI waited for an answer, but none came, for Philo had gone. Then I\ncontinued,\n\n\"Nay, Philo did not betray you, nor was it needed. Royal Amenartas,\nwhence had you that scarab ring upon your hand?\"\n\n\"It was my lord's gift to me,\" she answered.\n\n\"Then tell me, Kallikrates, whence had you the ring, also if there be\ngraven on its bezel in the Egyptian writing, signs that mean 'Royal\nSon of the Sun'?\"\n\n\"Those signs are cut upon the ring, O Queen, which in bygone years was\ngiven to me as a talisman by a certain divine priestess whom I saved\nin battle, that its virtues might recover me of wounds which I\nreceived in the battle. This, as I was told afterward, it had the\npower to do because that ring was blessed, having been fashioned like\nto one which Isis the Mother set as her love gift upon the hand of\ndead Osiris ere she breathed his soul into him again. Or perchance it\nwas the very same that Osiris left upon the earth when he passed to\nHeaven; I know not.\"\n\nThus he spoke, stumbling at the words like an ill-bred mule upon a\nstony path till, wearying of the tale, I broke in,\n\n\"Therefore, O Kallikrates, you in your turn gave the enchanted ancient\namulet to a woman you desired, or who desired you, hoping that its\nvirtues might consecrate your unhallowed union. O priest forsworn, how\ndid you dare this sacrilege--to set upon your lover's hand the ring,\nthe very ring of Isis that once great Kh\u00e6muas wore, given to you by\nthe Prophetess of Isis to lift you from the gates of death.\"\n\nThen bending forward so that the shadow of the statue behind no longer\nhid me, I uncovered my face and looked him in the eyes.\n\n\"I thought it!\" he said, \"though who could have dreamed that here in\nthis ruin----? It is the Oracle and the Prophetess. It is the Child of\nIsis, the Daughter of Wisdom herself whose voice I knew again through\nall her feigning,\" and he fell to the ground so that his brow was\npressed upon its stones, muttering,\n\n\"Slay me, Queen, and have done, but spare this lady and send her back\nto her own land, since the sin is mine, not hers, who was no\npriestess.\"\n\nNow Amenartas stared at me with her bold eyes, then cried with a hard\nlaugh,\n\n\"Be not so sure, my Lord, for this is scarcely possible. Well do I\nremember looking upon her who was called _Isis-come-to-Earth_ in the\nbygone days, especially at a certain feast that Pharaoh gave when she\nunveiled to show herself to Tenes, King of Sidon, who afterward took\nher as his slave. But that seeress was a very fair woman, although\nperchance even then somewhat faded, or so I who but a little while\nbefore had bade farewell to childhood, judged of her. Therefore this\nruler of ruins can scarcely be the same, seeing that none could name\nher fair. Look, she is old and withered, her neck has fallen in, her\nshape is flattened.\n\n\"The seeress I remember had a lovely mouth of coral, but this lady's\nlips are thin and pale; also she had large and beauteous eyes, but\nthose of this lady are small and almost colourless. Moreover, they are\nringed beneath with lines of black, such as are common to aged virgin\npriestesses who have never known the love of man, though of it,\nperchance, their holy souls still dream even in the midst of their\ncustomary, bead-checked prayers, while, like those of slaves, their\nknees harden upon the stones.\n\n\"Nay, my Lord, although time works strange changes in those who have\npassed the meridian of their days, this priestess who hides her gray\nhairs beneath the vulture cap of her persuasion can scarcely be the\nsame as that glowing pythoness upon whom once we looked in Pharaoh's\nhalls and who, as I recall, then looked much on you.\"\n\nNow I listened to this vulgar venom, the common outpouring of a\nsmall-natured, jealous heart, and smiled. Yet it is true, for in these\nlines I write nothing which is not the truth, that some of those\npoisoned shafts went home. I knew well that all the beauty that once I\nhad was no longer mine; that the passing of the years, that care and\nabstinence and the turning of my heart from things mortal to those\ndivine, added to the weight of rule and wisdom and avengement which\nDestiny had laid upon my brow, had robbed me of my bloom and that\nimperial loveliness which once enthralled the world. Also it was true\nthat Amenartas was still a child when I was a woman grown and\ntherefore had Nature's vantage of me, which indeed must increase from\nmoon to moon.\n\nStill I smiled, and as I smiled a great thought smote me, sowing a\nseed of daring in the kind soil of my breast where thenceforth it was\ndoomed to grow, to blossom, and in an unborn hour of fulfilment to\nbear its fearful fruit. Oh! if I have sinned against high Heaven and\nthe commands of its minister, my guide, the holy Noot, let the\nrecording gods remember that it was the whip of this woman's bitter\ntongue which drove me to the deed.\n\nNow very gently I spoke, saying,\n\n\"Rise, Kallikrates, such words as you have heard spoken of one who\nonce was set above you in her office can scarcely be pleasing to your\nears, nor will I answer them. I know well that in them there is\nsomething of the truth and I am proud that it has been granted to me\nto make sacrifice to the Queen of Heaven whom I adore of such small\ngifts of the flesh and comeliness as once were mine. It is but another\noffering which I heap upon her altar, one of many.\n\n\"Yet, Kallikrates, though as I think you can no longer bow the knee\nbefore that Majesty as once you did, I pray you, if you can, to hold\nthis lady's lips from pouring scorn upon her, as she does upon me, her\npriestess. I pray you to bring it to her memory that once, clad in her\nveil of Isis, she also worshipped at that shrine, aye, that in a time\nof peril, often there, she and you and I have sent up our pure\npetitions, though not in the 'customary bead-checked prayers' of which\nshe speaks. Yes, bring it to her memory that though the temple of\nMemphis has been given to the flames, Mother Isis hears and watches\nnot in Egypt, but in Heaven, and that though she be slow to wrath, yet\nshe still can smite. Now, Kallikrates, go rest you, taking your love\nwith you, and afterward we will talk alone since, although I can\nforgive, I am not minded to be stoned with such words as angry women\nof the people throw at their rivals in the marketplace.\"\n\n\n CHAPTER XXI\n The Truth and the Temptation\n\nNot that day but on the morrow Kallikrates asked audience of me.\nLearning that he was alone, I received him in my private chamber and\nbade him be seated. He obeyed, and for awhile I watched him, the light\nfrom the window-place falling upon his golden head and upon his\nshining armour, battered with storm and war. For now he was clad in\nhis soldier's garb, perchance the very same that years ago he had worn\non board the _Hapi_, and thus attired looked like a king of men.\n\n\"The lady Amenartas is somewhat sick after all our journeyings,\" he\nsaid, \"I think that the disorder which is common on the coast lands\nhas fallen upon her, since her face is flushed and her hands are hot.\nTherefore she cannot wait upon you, Prophetess. Yet she bids me thank\nyou for your hospitality, and say that she asks your pardon for any\nbitter words she may have spoken yesterday, since these sprang, not\nfrom her heart, but from a fever burning in her blood.\"\n\n\"It is granted. I know this sickness though myself I have been\nprotected from it, and will send her medicine and with it a skilled\nwoman to wait upon her. Bid her not to fear; it is seldom dangerous.\nNow, my guest Kallikrates, if it pleases you, let me hear your story;\nyou must have much to tell since we parted in the sanctuary at\nMemphis. Then, you will remember, your purpose was to accompany the\nholy Noot upon his mission, because you thought it best for reasons of\nyour own to depart from Memphis for awhile. Yet I think it was in your\nmind to go alone, not accompanied by that royal lady who is your\ncompanion.\"\n\n\"This is true, Prophetess,\" he answered heavily, \"nor did I know that\nthe lady of whom you speak was aboard the _Hapi_ until, to escape\ncapture at the hands of the Persians, we had fled from the Nile out\ntoward the open sea.\"\n\n\"I understand, Kallikrates, nor can it be denied that Fate dealt\nhardly, or perchance I should say kindly, with you when it caused the\nlady Amenartas to embark in error upon the ship _Hapi_, which sailed\ndown Nile, instead of that of her father, Nectanebes, which set its\ncourse for Thebes and Ethiopia.\"\n\n\"Mock me not, Child of Wisdom. As the lady Amenartas would tell you to\nyour face, she knew well enough upon what ship she sailed, though I\nknew nothing who believed that I had said farewell to her for ever.\nAye, abandoning her hope of royalty and all else, and taking every\nrisk, she embarked upon the _Hapi_, setting some other woman tricked\nout to her likeness to fill her place awhile among the company of\nNectanebes.\"\n\n\"That at least was bold, and I love courage, Kallikrates. Yet--what\nwas her purpose?\"\n\n\"Is that a question that you should ask me, Lady, who know well that\ngreat-hearted women will dare much for love?\"\n\n\"Whether I should ask or not, at least I have the answer to my\nquestion, Kallikrates. Of a truth, you should love and honour one who\nfor your sake abandoned all to win what she thought more than all,\neven at the cost of her own shame and the ruin of your soul.\"\n\n\"I do love and honour her,\" he answered hoarsely. \"When she was still\na child I loved her and because of that love I slew my brother,\nbelieving that on reaching womanhood she had come to favour him,\nwhich, it seems, she did only to draw me closer to her.\"\n\n\"It would appear, Kallikrates, that this lady brings no good fortune\nto your race, since first she works the death of one of you, making a\nmurderer of his own brother, and then of that brother fashions an\napostate to his faith, yea, a traitor accursed of God and man.\"\n\n\"It is so,\" he said humbly. \"Yet she loves me much, so much that\nwhether I will it or not, I must love her, since if the woman loves\nenough what can the man do but follow on the path she leads? Tell me,\nProphetess, you who are wise, had you been a man and sat in my place\nthere upon the ship _Hapi_, which is a narrow prison, what would you\nhave done, being a man I say--as I am?\"\n\n\"Perhaps just what you did, Kallikrates, and therefore have become\naccursed, as you are, Kallikrates, seeing that the lady was sweet and\nloving, and that man must remain man however great the oaths he has\nsworn to goddesses who do not throw their arms about him or kiss him\non the lips.\"\n\n\"Once I thought that a goddess did kiss me on the lips, Oracle of\nIsis, and the memory of that kiss is sweet and holy.\"\n\n\"Is it so?\" I answered. \"Well, since you are no more of our communion,\nI may tell you now that in the shrine at Phil\u00e6 _I_ played the part of\nthe goddess and gave that ceremonial kiss.\"\n\nNow he stared at me, reddening, then muttered,\n\n\"Always I guessed it who could not quite believe that a goddess would\nkiss so sweetly,\" and again he started like one who would ask a\nquestion that his lips do not dare to frame.\n\nI remained silent, watching him, till presently he broke out,\n\n\"You tell me that I am accursed, Priestess. Tell me also why Isis is\nso wrath with me?\"\n\n\"Did you not swear yourself to her alone and break your oath,\nKallikrates? Do you not know that if women can be jealous, goddesses\nwho are set far above them can be more greatly so of those who are\nbound to them in the mystic marriage? Have you not heard that to turn\nfrom them to a daughter of man is to offer them the most terrible of\ninsults?\"\n\n\"Isis herself was wed to Osiris, Prophetess, and I have heard of\npriests and priestesses who served her who were also wed.\"\n\n\"Perchance, Kallikrates, after absolution given by one upon whom\nauthority is conferred to strain vows for some high end. But who gave\nyou authority to marry, you, who indeed are not married but only a\nwoman's lover? Did you mayhap seek it from the holy Noot upon the ship\n_Hapi_?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" he answered, \"that thought never came to me. Or if it came I\nbelieved that he would but heap curses upon me, or mayhap call down\nthe vengeance of Isis upon another. You have heard, Prophetess, of\nwhat fate sometimes awaits those who tempt the feet of priests or\npriestesses from the strait path of their vows.\"\n\n\"Aye, Kallikrates, they die by fire, or they starve, or they perish\nshut up in some narrow, airless hole; each worship works its own\nvengeance for that unmeasured crime. Yet you were foolish not to make\nyour prayer of Noot, by whom alone it could be granted, since who\nknows what he would have answered.\"\n\n\"Is it too late?\" he asked eagerly. \"For every sin there is\nforgiveness, why not for mine? Only who could grant it; since now I\nknow not where to look for Noot, if indeed he lives.\"\n\n\"For every sin there is forgiveness, Kallikrates, but only at a price.\nFirst the sin itself must be laid upon the altar as a sacrifice. For\ndead sins there may be forgiveness; for those that live and are\ncontinued there is none, but only stripe added to stripe and remorse\npiled upon remorse. As for Noot it chances that he does live and not\nso far away. Would you lay your case before him and hear his\njudgment?\"\n\n\"I do not know,\" he answered slowly. \"Hearken, Child of Wisdom. I am\nin a strange strait. I love this lady with my body and am bound to\nher, but it is not so with my spirit. Our souls, I think, are far\napart. Oh! bear me witness that my heart is set on higher things; it\nwould sail into far seas unvisited of man, but always there is this\nanchor of the flesh chaining it to its native shore. Amenartas does\nnot think thus, she loves to lie bound in life's pleasant harbour, or\nto wander to its green banks, wafted thither by the fitful breath of\ncommon things, there to deck her brow with the wreaths of passion.\n\n\"'Let Heaven be!' she says, 'here is the happy earth beneath our feet,\nand round us murmur the waters of delight and I am very beautiful and\nI love you well. If there be gods and they are vengeful, at least\ntheir hour is not yet. This moment is ours to enjoy and to our lips it\nholds a glorious cup. If all the wine be drunk and the cup is\nshattered, at least there will remain with us their memories. What are\nthese gods whom you seek so madly? What do they give to man save many\ncurses--deaths and separations, sicknesses and sorrows, adding to\nthese promises of woe to follow when they have worked their worst on\nearth? Are there any gods save those that man fashions from his own\nterrors? man who will not be content with Nature's food, but needs\nmust sour it with an alien poison, and even when the sun shines round\nhim, shivers in some cold shadow that superstition casts upon his\nheart.'\n\n\"Thus she reasons, and such ever were her arguments.\"\n\n\"Tell me, Kallikrates, has any child been born to you?\"\n\n\"Aye, one, a very lovely child; he died of hardships that caused his\nmother's milk to fail.\"\n\n\"And when the royal Amenartas looked upon him dead, did she still\nreason in this fashion, saying that there are no gods and for man\nthere is no hope beyond the grave?\"\n\n\"Not altogether, since she cursed the gods, and who curse that in\nwhich they do not believe? Also I remember that she wept and prayed\nthose gods to give him back to her while his little heart still beat,\nand like a moth new-crept from its chrysalis, he yet hung to the edge\nof the world, drying his soul's crinkled wings in the dawning lights\nof Heaven. But afterward she forgot and made sacrifice to her familiar\nSpirit, asking it to send her another child, which prayer she tells me\nis in the way of fulfilment.\"\n\n\"So Amenartas practices magic like her father Nectanebes?\"\n\n\"Aye, Lady, and it would seem not without avail, though of this matter\nof dealing with d\u00e6mons I neither know nor want to know anything. I\nthink it comes to her with her Egyptian blood, also that the Pharaoh\ntaught her these arts in her childhood, and what is learnt then is\nnever quite forgotten. At least I know that when we have been in\ntrouble or in danger during our long wanderings, with secret rites\nupon which I do not pry, she calls upon some Familiar and that\nthereafter, in this way or in that, our pathway has been straightened.\nIndeed she did this just before Philo found us starving.\"\n\n\"As the path of your babe was straightened from this world to the\nnext, Kallikrates; as the devious path of Pharaoh Nectanebes was\nstraightened to a road which led from the throne of Egypt--but pray\nthe lady Amenartas to ask of her d\u00e6mon whither it led, since here my\nwisdom fails me and I am not sure. Well, we have spoken long and so\nstands the case, one that might puzzle Thoth himself. Is it your\npleasure, Kallikrates, to visit the divine Noot and take his counsel\nupon all these matters? I think that he alone upon the earth can give\nyou guidance in them. Yet do as you will.\"\n\nKallikrates thought a while brooding, then he answered,\n\n\"Yes, it is my pleasure. When Amenartas is recovered of her sickness,\nwe will go.\"\n\n\"The holy Noot is very ancient and the royal Amenartas may be sick for\na long while. Therefore might it be wise to go at once, Kallikrates.\"\n\n\"Nay, Prophetess, I cannot. Amenartas has strange fancies and will not\nbe left alone; she thinks that she may be poisoned; indeed that\nalready she has tasted poison.\"\n\n\"Then let her make richer sacrifices to her d\u00e6mon and pray him to\nprotect her. Certainly they will not be without avail since I can\nswear that here in K\u00f4r no poison shall pass her lips, nor any harm\ncome to her--save perchance from those gods whom she denies. Farewell,\nKallikrates.\"\n\nHe bowed to me humbly and turned to go, then after a step or two came\nback and said,\n\n\"The gods! The gods! who for you and me in their sum are one god,\nIsis, Queen of Heaven. Tell me now, I pray you that are named Wisdom's\nDaughter, who and what is Isis?\"\n\nI thought a while since the question was a great one, a problem that\nas yet I had never tried to solve in words. Then I answered,\n\n\"By my soul I do not know. East and west and north and south, men in\ntheir millions worship this god or that. Yet is there one among them\nwho save in dreams or ecstasies has ever seen his god, or if he tries\nto fashion him out before his mortal eyes, can do more than carve some\neffigy of wood or stone?\"\n\nThen I pointed to the veiled statue of Truth behind me, saying,\n\n\"Lo! there is Isis, a beauteous thing with a hidden face ruling o'er\nthe world. She is one of Divinity's thousand forms. Aye, she is its\nessence, frozen to the shape we know in this world's icy air, and\nhaving a countenance chiselled differently from age to age by the\nchangeful thought of man. She lives in every soul, yet in no two souls\nis she the same. She is not, yet eternally she is. Invisible,\nintangible; ever pursued and ever fleeing; never seen and never\nhandled, yet she answers prayer and her throne is not in the high\nheavens but in the heart of every creature that draws the breath of\nlife. One day we shall behold her and not know her. Yet she will know\nus. Such is Isis: formless, yet in every form; dead, yet living in all\nthat breathes; a priest-bred phantasy, yet the one great truth.\"\n\n\"If Isis be thus, what of the world's other gods?\"\n\n\"They all are Isis and Isis is them all. The thousand gods men worship\nare but one god wearing many faces. Or rather they are two gods, the\ngod of good and the god of evil; Horus and Typhon who war continually\nfor the souls of things created by that Divine, unseen, unknown yet\neternally existent, who reigns beyond the stars alone in fearful glory\nand from his nameless habitation looks down both on gods and men, the\npuppets of his hands; on the rolling worlds that bear them, on the\nseas of space between and on the infusing spirit whose operation is\nthe breath of life. So it was in the beginning, is now and shall be\neternally. At least, Kallikrates, thus I have been taught by the\nwisdom of Noot my Master, and following his path, thus my searching\nsoul has learned. Again farewell.\"\n\nHe looked at me muttering,\n\n\"Child of Isis, oh! well-named Child of Isis, and Wisdom's Daughter!\"\nand there was awe in his eyes and voice.\n\nNow as ever he is afraid of me, I thought to myself, and how can a man\ncome to love that of which he is afraid, since love and fear are\nopposites and there is no bridge between them. Oh! why did I speak to\nhim of these high things which as yet his spirit can scarce weigh or\nunderstand? Perhaps because I am so lonely and having naught into\nwhich I can pour my mind, no vase of gold and alabaster, my deep\no'erflowing thought must fill the first coarse cup of clay that chance\noffers to my hand, like to the storing of priceless wine in some tarry\nbottle which it will burst.\n\nSurely I should learn a lesson from yonder Amenartas who knows well\nhow to deal with such a one as he; one who still stands at thought's\nbeginnings, looking dismayed at the steep upward path studded with\nsharp stones, wreathed in cruel thorns, strewn with quicksands and\nwith pitfalls, and bordered by precipices from whose gulfs there is no\nreturn, that path which his feet long to tread yet dare not, lacking\nany guide.\n\nShe leads him by a different road, the road of mortal passion, bidding\nhim to cease from staring at the stars; bidding him weave crowns of\nits heavy-scented flowers to set upon her brow and his. She prattles\nto him of daily doings, of the joy of yesterday and the promise of\nto-morrow, aye, even of the food he eats. And all the time she twists\nthe spells her father taught her to strong ropes of charm, purposing\nby these to tie him to her everlastingly. Aye, like a gilded spider,\nthat black-browed, bounteous-breasted witch meshes him in her magic\nweb, binding him fast and yet more fast, till at length he lies there\nstaring at her stirless as a mummy in its wrappings.\n\nThus I mused, clothing my musings finely yet knowing in my heart that\nwhat prompted them was the vilest of all causes and the most common,\nnaught indeed but the jealousy of one woman of another. For now I knew\nthe truth, it could no more be hidden, no longer could I blind my\neyes, for it had come home to me while he told me his sad story. I\nloved this man; yes, and had always loved him since first I looked\nupon him far away at Phil\u00e6, or certainly since, veiled in the\nwrappings of the goddess, I had yielded to Nature's promptings and\nkissed him upon the lips.\n\nOh! I had beaten down that truth, I had buried it deep, but now it\narose like a ghost from the grave and frightened me with its stern,\nimmortal eyes. I loved this man and must always love him and no other,\nand he--he feared yet adored me, as some high spirit is adored at its\nappearing--but love me he did not who was set so far above him.\n\nYes, I was jealous, if the great can be truly jealous of that which is\nsmall, for though we were wide apart as continent from continent, yet\nwe both were women desirous of one man. With my spirit I was not\njealous, for that I knew must conquer in the end, being so strong, so\narmoured against all the shafts of mortal change. Yet with my flesh I\nwas jealous. He told me Amenartas had borne a son to him; that she\nhoped to bear another son, and--I too yearned to be the mother of his\nson. For is it not true that by a fixed unchanging law, whereas the\nman loves the woman for herself, the woman loves the man most of all\nbecause he may become the father of her child, and thus by the marvel\nof creation, even in the dust preserve her from perpetual death?\n\nSo, so, let me think. I loved this man and would take him for myself\nand would lift him up and would make him my equal, if that could ever\nbe, and would teach him glorious things, and would show him the secret\nlight that burned within my heart, and would guide him onward by the\nrays of my own peculiar star. How could it be brought about? Yonder\nwoman, wrapped round with the twice-dipped Tyrian purple of kings,\nwhich purple, be it admitted, she wore well although now she lacked a\nthrone whereon to drape it, thought in her folly that I had poisoned\nor would poison her. Yes, she knew Ayesha so little that she believed\nthat like a Persian eunuch she would stoop to call deadly venom to her\naid and thereby rid her of a rival. Never! If I could not win by my\nown strength in a fair fight for favour, then let me fail, who\ndeserved defeat. Were her life so utterly in my hands that I could\ndestroy it with a wish, that wish would never form itself within my\nmind, and certainly never shape itself to deeds.\n\nWhat then could be done? She was right. I began to grow old; Time's\nacid was gnawing at me so that my beauty was no more what it had been.\nAye, I grew spare and old, while on her still shone the full glory of\nher womanhood. _If I would conquer I must cease from growing old!_\n\nThe Fire of Life! Ah! that Fire of Life which gave, it was said, the\ngift of undying days and of perfect youth and loveliness such as\nAphrodite herself might envy. Who said so? Noot the Master who knew\nall things. Yet Noot had never entered into that fire, therefore how\ndid he know, unless it were by revelation? At least he had forbidden\nme to taste its cup, perhaps because he was sure that it would slay me\nwhom he desired to be his successor and to establish here a great\nkingdom whereof the people should accept Isis as their god.\n\nStill the story might be true, for otherwise why did Noot sit in that\nmelancholy hermitage watching the pathway to the Fire? There had been\nother tales of the same sort told in the world. Thus the old Chaldean\nlegend spoke of a Tree of Life that grew in a certain garden whence\nthe parents of mankind were driven lest they should eat of it and\nbecome immortal, which legend was expounded to me more fully by the\nJewish rabbis in Jerusalem, and afterward by Holly the learned man.\nTherefore it seemed that there was a Tree of Life, or a Fire of Life,\njealously guarded of the gods lest the children of men should become\ntheir equals. And I, I knew where that Tree grew, or rather where that\nFire burned. Yet Noot forbade it to me, and could I disobey Noot my\nMaster, Noot the half divine? Well, Noot was very old and near his\nend, and when he died, I, by his own appointment, should be the\nguardian of the Fire, and may not a guardian taste of that he guards?\n\nThe gods decreed otherwise, he said. Mayhap, but what if in this\nmatter where I had so much to gain, I chose to match myself against\nthe gods? If the gods give knowledge, can they be wrath with those who\nuse it? Yet if they are wrath--well, let them be wrath and set their\nworst against my best. Sometimes I grew weary of the gods and all the\nfantastical decrees which they--or their priests--heaped upon the\nheads of the sufferers of this earth. Were not life's curse and\ndeath's doom enough to satisfy their appetites, that they must load\nthe toilful days between with so much of the lead of misery, denying\nthis, denying that; strowing the path of men with spikes and crowning\ntheir heads with thorns?\n\nIf Noot's tale were true, what then? I should enter the Fire, I should\nemerge ever-glorious, beauteous beyond imagining, and ever young,\nhaving left death far behind me. I should need but to wait a while\nuntil Amenartas died, and when she was dead, or having grown weary of\ndull life in an ancient place, had departed to seek some other. Nay,\nfor then in the first case Kallikrates also would be dead or ancient,\nand in the second, certainly she would take him with her.\n\nAh! now I had it; if I entered the Fire and came forth unharmed,\nKallikrates must enter it after me, for then we should be fitly mated,\neven if we must wait until a little pinch of the sand of time had run\nout from between our fingers. Yet supposing that Amenartas chose to\nenter it also, as being so fond of magic and so determined to cling to\nthat which she had won, perchance she might do, would my case be\nbettered? The play would be set upon a larger stage, that is all.\nWell, should I not be the Guardian of the Fire and would it not be in\nmy hand to determine who should taste or who should be denied its\nglories? Let that matter decide itself when the hour came, since the\ndecision would be such as I and not as Amenartas willed.\n\nHere then was my plan. And yet--one thought more. What if the Fire\nslew? If so, had I found life so sweet that I should be afraid to die,\nas in any case within some few years die I must? Let me take my chance\nof death who was ready to fade away into a land where Kallikrates and\nAmenartas and all earthly miseries and all baulked desires and\nambitions, and all hopes and fears and sufferings must be forgot. Only\nwould they be forgot? Perchance there they might be remembered and\npierce the soul eternally with an even keener edge. Noot believed that\nwe were made of an immortal stuff, and so at heart did I. It must be\nrisked. What is life but a long risk, and why should we fear to add to\nits tremendous count? I at least did not fear.\n\n\nSo all was summed up and balanced. Yet from my reckoning I left out\nthe largest charge, that which Fate makes against those who play at\ndice with the Unknown. The gods may smile at courage and pass a\nventure by, but who can tell how blind Fate will avenge the forcing of\nhis rule decreed and the rape of knowledge from his secret store?\n\nThis problem I forgot, I who was doomed to learn its answer.\n\n\n CHAPTER XXII\n Beware!\n\nThe days went by and it was not long before Amenartas recovered from\nher sickness, long at least before she would appear out of the\nlodging, the best at our command, which had been given to her. It was\nan ancient, ruined house near to the temple, that doubtless once had\nbeen a splendid place inhabited by forgotten nobles of old K\u00f4r. There\nwere gardens round it, or rather what had been gardens, for now these\nwere much overgrown, and in their shelter Amenartas hid herself and\nwandered, never leaving them to visit me.\n\nYet Kallikrates came often, though being unshriven and thrust out of\nour community by his own act, he did not share in the worship of the\ngoddess. Often I would see him as our procession wound in and out of\nthe columns of the great unroofed temple hall, standing afar off and\ngazing at it wistfully. Aye, and once when it passed near to him, I\nsaw too, that there were tears upon his face, noting which my heart\nsorrowed for him who was outcast for a woman's sake.\n\nWhen these ceremonies were ended he would visit me in my chambers\nwhere we talked long and of many things. I asked him why the Princess\nAmenartas, who it seemed was recovered of her fever since now she\ncould wander in her garden ground, laid no offering on the altar of\nthe goddess. He answered,\n\n\"Because she will have naught to do with the gods of Egypt who, she\nsays, if they are at all, have ever been the enemies of her House and\nhave dragged her father, the Pharaoh Nectanebes, from his throne and\nhurled him forth, a discrowned fugitive, to perish amidst strangers.\"\n\n\"Upon those who follow after spells and affront the gods, the gods\nwill be avenged, Kallikrates. For every sin there is forgiveness, save\nfor that of the denial of Divinity, and of the setting of Evil in its\nplace to be propitiated by the arts of sorcerers. Moreover, did not\nthis Nectanebes offer deadly insult to the Queen of Heaven when he\ngave me, her servant and seeress, to be a slave to Tenes, the\nworshipper of her worst of foes, Baal and Ashtoreth and Moloch, that\nTenes from whose grip you helped to save me, Kallikrates?\"\n\n\"It is so,\" he answered sadly.\n\n\"And now,\" I went on, \"the daughter follows in the father's steps. Oh!\nI am sure that yonder she spells out her charms, aiming her\nenchantments at my heart, whence they fall back harmless, as the\nbone-tipped arrows of wild men fall from a shield of Syrian bronze.\"\n\nHe hung his head who knew well that my words were true, and muttered,\n\n\"Alas! she loves you not, Lady, who from the first hour that she set\nher eyes upon you, as often she has told me, feared and hated you,\nbecause, she says, her spirit warns and has ever warned her that you\nwill bring disaster upon her head and call up Death to keep her\ncompany.\"\n\n\"At least he would be a better guest, Kallikrates, than the d\u00e6mon\nthat, like her father, she harbours in her breast. Oh! unhappy man, my\nheart bleeds for you, who are linked to this poisoned loveliness that\ndivorces you from hope and charity; to this royal infidel who in the\nend will bind your spirit's wings and drag you down into her own\ndarkness. For your soul's sake I pray you, Kallikrates, seek out the\nholy Noot, confess your sins and hear his counsel, since this matter\nis beyond my strength and I have none to give. Seek him soon, nay, at\nonce, ere perchance it be too late, for I learn that he grows feeble.\"\n\n\"That is my great desire, Priestess, yet how can I, who know not where\nto find him?\"\n\n\"I will be your guide, Kallikrates. When the sun rises on the second\nday from now we will march to visit Noot in his secret dwelling.\"\n\n\"I will be ready,\" he answered and left me.\n\nOn the morrow he came again and we spoke together of the state of K\u00f4r\nand of my plans for bettering it; also of certain savages who\nthreatened us from without, man-eating tribes that it seemed were\ndescended from the apostates who rejecting the worship of Truth or\nLulala, as Isis was named by them in those times, had adopted that of\na devil that, as they declared, inhabited the sun or some ill-omened\nstar.\n\nKallikrates listened, he who at bottom was ever a soldier, for the\ntale awoke all his general's craft and courage. As a great captain\ndoes, he balanced the reasons for or against defence, for or against\nattack. He questioned me as to the numbers of my people and of their\nfoes, as to their arms, and many other matters that have to do with\nwar. Then having learned all that I could tell him, he set out the\nplan which he judged to be the best in our conditions, talking of it\nlong and eagerly, he who for a while had forgot his woes. I listened\nto him, watching his bright and splendid face which seemed as that of\nthe Sun-god of the Greeks. Speaking a word here and a word there, I\nlistened, thinking to myself the while that if only he and I, he with\nhis skill and courage and I with my wisdom, could guide the destinies\nof K\u00f4r, before our day was done we would drive them like the chariots\nof a conquering king from Egypt's borders to these of the uttermost\nsouthern seas, setting nation after nation beneath our feet, and\nbuilding up such an empire as Libya had never known.\n\nWhat had I dreamed? To Egypt's borders? Why should we stop at her\nborders? Why should we not hurl forth the foul Persian swarms and be\ncrowned monarchs of the world at Susa and at Thebes? Yet it would take\ntime, and life is short, and yonder, not so far away, burned the Fire\nof Immortality, and I, I held the key to its prison house, or soon\nshould hold it when Noot had sought his rest. Almost these burning\nthoughts, these high ambitions, in whose fulfilment lay the seeds of\npeace attained through war and the promise of the welfare of the\nearth, burst from my lips in a torrent of hot words which I knew well\nwould set his soul aflame. But I, Ayesha, refrained myself from\nmyself, I wrapped myself in silence, I said to myself, \"Wait, wait,\nthe ripe hour has not dawned.\"\n\nHe rose to depart, then turned and said,\n\n\"At the sunrise I will be here, or rather,\" he added doubtfully, \"we\nwill be here, since Amenartas desires to accompany us upon this\njourney to visit the holy Noot.\"\n\n\"By whom I trust she will be well received, seeing the manner in which\nshe parted from him upon the ship _Hapi_. Well, so be it; I rejoice to\nlearn that the royal Amenartas again finds herself prepared to travel.\nYet remind her, Kallikrates, that the road we go is rough and\ndangerous.\"\n\n\"She shall be told, yet it will serve little, since who can turn\nAmenartas from her ends? Not I, be sure; nor could her father before\nme, nor any living man.\"\n\n\"Nay, nor any god, Kallikrates, since the ends she follows are those\nof neither man nor god, but of something that stands beyond them both,\nas was the case of Pharaoh Nectanebes who begot her. Each of us shoots\nat his chosen mark, Kallikrates, you at yours, I at mine, and\nAmenartas at her own; therefore what right have we to judge of one\nanother's archery? Let her come to visit Noot and I pray that she may\nreturn the happier.\"\n\n\nNext morning ere the dawn I stood at the temple porch awaiting Philo\nand the litters. Came Amenartas cloaked heavily, for the air was cold,\nyet splendid even in those wrappings.\n\n\"Greeting, Wisdom's Child,\" she said, bowing in her courtlike fashion.\n\"I learn that you and my husband would make some strange journey, and\ntherefore, as a wife should, I accompany him.\"\n\n\"That is so, royal Lady, though I knew not that you were wed to the\nlord Kallikrates.\"\n\n\"What is marriage?\" she asked. \"Is it certain words mumbled before an\naltar and a priest, a thing of witnessed ceremony, or is it the union\nof the heart and flesh according to Nature's custom and decree? But\nlet that pass. Where my lord goes, there I accompany him.\"\n\n\"None forbids you, O Lady of Egypt.\"\n\n\"True, Prophetess. Yet my own heart forbids me. Know that but last\nnight I was haunted by a very evil dream. It seemed to me that my\nfather Nectanebes stood before me in a sable robe that was shot\nthrough with threads of fire. He spoke to me saying: 'Daughter, beware\nof that witch who goes on a dreadful quest, taking with her one who is\ndear to you. At the end of that quest lies Doom for her, for him, for\nyou, though each of these dooms be different!'\"\n\n\"It may be so, Princess,\" I answered coldly. \"Then accompany me not\nand keep Kallikrates at your side.\"\n\n\"That I cannot do,\" she said in a sullen voice, \"since now for the\nfirst time he will not listen to my pleading and crosses my will. You\nhave laid your charm upon him as on others in the past, and where you\nlead, he follows.\"\n\n\"Mayhap as a slave follows one who can show him where he may loose his\nchains! But let us not bandy words, royal Amenartas. I depart. Follow\nif you will, or bide behind, one or both of you. See, here comes\nKallikrates; agree together as it pleases you.\"\n\nShe turned and met him in the ruins of the ancient pylon, where they\ndebated together in words I could not hear. Once she seemed to\nconquer, for both of them walked a little way toward their own home.\nThen Kallikrates swung round upon his heel and came back to me who\nstood by the litters. She hesitated awhile, ah! what mighty issues\nhung upon this trembling of the balance of her mind, but in the end\nshe followed him.\n\nAfter this, without more speech we entered the litters and began our\njourney.\n\nAs we went across the misty plain it came home to me, as many a time\nit has done during the long centuries that followed, how often the\ngreat depends upon the little. Another bitter word from Amenartas, a\ntrifle less of courage in Kallikrates, and how differently would Fate\nhave fashioned the destinies of every one of us. For be it remembered\nthat the choice lay with these two; I did naught save wait upon their\nwills. Had they so desired, never need they have entered those\nlitters. Alone I should have departed; alone I should have looked upon\nthe Fire and drunk of that Cup of Life, or perchance, as is probable,\nI should have left it untasted and gone down my way to death after the\ncommon fashion of mankind. But it was not so decreed; of their own\ndesire they took the path to doom, though perchance that desire was\nshaped by some Strength above their own.\n\n\nWe reached the precipice and climbed it, Amenartas, Kallikrates,\nPhilo, and I. We passed the cave by the light of lanterns, and we came\nto the trembling spur of rock that reaches out like a great needle\nthrust through the robe of darkness. When they looked upon it,\nKallikrates and Amenartas shivered and drew back, seeing which I\nrejoiced, for it is true that at the moment I found no more heart for\nthis adventure.\n\n\"Stay where you are,\" I cried, \"and wait. I go to visit the holy Noot.\nI will return again, and if I return not within a round of the sun,\nthen make your way back to K\u00f4r and there abide. Or if it pleases you,\nseek the coast-land and the harbour of the Ethiopian's Head and depart\nwith the help of Philo, if still he lives, or if not, otherwise.\nFarewell! I go.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" cried Kallikrates, \"whither you lead, Prophetess, thither I\nfollow.\"\n\n\"If so,\" said Amenartas, laughing in her royal fashion, \"you will not\nfollow alone. What! Shall I not dare that which my lord can dare? Is\nthis the first peril in which we twain have stood side by side? If it\nbe the last, what of it?\"\n\nSo we started down the spur, Philo coming at the end of our line, and\nthough with many hazards, for once the brain of Amenartas swam so that\nalmost she fell, reached its point in safety. Here we waited crouched\nupon the rough rock and clinging to it with our hands, lest its quick\nthrobbing should hurl us into the gulf, or the fierce gusts should\nsweep us away like autumn leaves.\n\nAt length at the appointed moment the sword-like sunset ray appeared,\nstriking full upon us and showing that the frail bridge of boards was\nstill in the place, for it swayed and moved like the deck of a ship at\nsea.\n\n\"Be bold and follow,\" I cried, \"since he who hesitates is doomed,\" and\ninstantly I stepped across that perilous plank and took my stand upon\nthe swaying stone beyond.\n\nFor a moment Kallikrates stood doubtful, as well he might, but\nAmenartas pushed past him and with a laugh crossed it as though she\nwould teach me that I was not the only one to whom the gods had given\ncourage. I caught her by the hand. Then Kallikrates followed because\nhe must, and she caught him by the hand and after him Philo, the\nseaman, calmly enough, so that now all four of us stood together on\nthe stone.\n\n\"Glad enough am I to be here, Prophetess,\" cried Kallikrates, though\nin that wailing wind his voice reached me only as a whisper. \"Yet, I\nknow not why, it comes into my mind that I go upon my last journey.\"\n\nI made no answer because his fateful words chilled my heart and choked\nmy voice; only I looked at his face and noted that it was white as ice\neven in the red light of the ray and that his large eyes shone as\nthough with the fires of fever.\n\nTaking Kallikrates by the hand and motioning to Philo to do likewise\nwith Amenartas, I led him to the little rough-hewn stair. By this\nstair we descended into the sheltered place that was in front of the\nhermitage of Noot and rejoiced was I to find myself and the others out\nof the reach of those raging winds and to see that lights burned\nwithin the cave beyond.\n\n\"Bide here, all of you,\" I said. \"I will enter the cave and prepare\nthe holy Noot for your coming.\"\n\nI entered the place thinking to find that strange dwarf who was Noot's\nservant, but nowhere could he be seen. Yet I was sure that he must be\nnear, since on the rough rock table were set food and wooden platters,\nfour platters as though awaiting four guests. I thought to myself that\ndoubtless the Master had seen us creeping down the spur, or perchance\nhis spirit had warned him of our coming--who could say?\n\nI gazed about me to find Noot, and at length in the deep shadow, out\nof reach of the lamp's rays, I perceived him kneeling before that\nimage of Isis whereof I have told, and wrapt in earnest prayer. I drew\nnear and waited a while who did not dare to break in upon his orisons.\nStill he did not stir or look up. So quiet was he that he might have\nbeen carved in ivory. I bent forward, examining his face. Lo! his eyes\nwere fixed and open and his jaw had fallen.\n\nNoot was _dead_!\n\n\"My Master, my most beloved Master! Too late, too late!\" I moaned, and\nbending down kissed him on his brow of ice.\n\nThen I began to think and swiftly. Had he not warned me when I bade\nhim farewell a while before that we spoke together for the last time?\nWhere was my faith who had forgotten that the prophecies of Noot were\nalways true? So he had gone to his rest in the bosom of Osiris, and on\nme had fallen his mantle. I, Ayesha, was the guardian of the Fire of\nLife whereof alone I knew the secrets and held the key! The knowledge\nstruck me like a blow; I trembled and sank to the ground. I think that\nfor a little while I swooned and in that swoon strange dreams took\nhold of me, half-remembered dreams, dreams not to be written.\n\n\nPresently I rose and going to the doorway summoned the others, who\nstood there huddled together like sheep before a storm.\n\n\"Enter,\" I said, and they obeyed. \"Now be seated and eat,\" I went on,\npointing to the table on which the food was ready.\n\n\"Where is the master of the feast, Prophetess? Where is the holy Noot\nwhom we have walked this fearful road to see?\" asked Kallikrates,\nstaring about him.\n\n\"Yonder,\" I answered, pointing to the depths of the shadow,\n\"yonder--dead and cold. You tarried too long at K\u00f4r, Kallikrates. Now\nyou must seek his counsel and his absolution at another table--that of\nOsiris.\"\n\nThus I spoke, for something inspired the words, yet ere they had left\nmy lips I could have bitten out the tongue that shaped them. Was\n_this_ the place to talk of the Table of Osiris to the man I loved?\n\nThey went to that dark nook where the little sacred statue looked down\nupon its quiet worshipper. They stared in silence; they returned,\nPhilo muttering prayers, Kallikrates wringing his hands, for he had\nloved and honoured Noot above any man that lived. Also--I read the\nquestion in his mind--to whom now should he confess his sins? Who now\ncould loose their burden?\n\nOnly Amenartas pondered a space; then she spoke with a slow and\nmeaning smile, saying,\n\n\"Perchance, my lord, it is as well that this old high-priest has gone\nto discover whether he dreamed true dreams for so many years upon the\nearth. I know not what you would have said to him, yet I can guess\nthat it boded but little good to me, your wife, for so I am, whatever\nyonder priestess may tell you, who also bodes little good either to me\nor to you, my lord Kallikrates. Well, he is dead and even Wisdom's\nDaughter there cannot bring him back to life. So let us rest a while\nand eat, and then return by that dread road which we have trodden, ere\nour strength and spirit fail us.\"\n\n\"That you may not do, Princess Amenartas, until the sunset comes again\nand once more the red ray shows us where to set our feet, for to\nattempt it sooner is to die,\" I answered, and went on:\n\n\"Hearken. By the death of this holy man, or half-god, I have become\nthe keeper of a certain treasure over which he watched. It is hidden\ndeep in the bowels of the earth beneath us. I must go to visit it and\nsee that it is safe. This I shall do presently. Bide you here, if you\nwill, till I return, and if I return not, wait till the ray strikes\nupon the point of rock, cross the bridge, climb the spur, and flee\nwhither ye will. Philo can guide you.\"\n\n\"Not so, Child of Isis,\" said Philo. \"My oath and duty are to you, not\nto this pair. Whither you go, I follow to the end.\"\n\n\"I follow also,\" said Kallikrates, \"who would not be left in this\ndarksome place companied by death.\"\n\n\"Yet it might be wiser, Kallikrates,\" I answered, \"since who can\nescape that company of death of which you speak?\" for again dreadful\nand ominous words rushed unbidden from my heart.\n\n\"I care not. I go,\" he said almost sullenly.\n\n\"Then I go also,\" broke in Amenartas. \"This Prophetess doubtless is\nwise and holy, yet I may be pardoned if I choose to share her\nfellowship with you upon a road unknown. Perchance it has another gate\nelsewhere that I might never find,\" she added in bitter jest.\n\nOh! had this fool but known that her coarse stabs at me did but harden\nthe heart which she sought to pierce, and drive it whither she did not\ndesire.\n\n\"As you will,\" I answered. \"Now eat and rest till the hour of\ndeparture comes and I summon you.\"\n\nSo they ate, if not much, though for my part I touched no food, and\nlaid them down in the inner cave as best they might, and there slept,\nor did not sleep. But I, I watched the hours away by the dead shell of\nthe holy Noot, striving to commune with his spirit which I knew to be\nnear to me. Yet it gave no answer to all my questions. Or at least\nthere came one only which again and again seemed to shape itself to a\nsingle word,\n\n\"_Beware!_\"\n\nStrange, thought I to myself, that the prophet Noot my Master, who\nloved me better than any other living upon the earth, and knew the\nmost of my lonely, wayward heart, now that he was justified and made\nperfect, as doubtless he must be, if such a lot can be attained by\nman, should find no more to say to me than this one word, which indeed\nwhile in the flesh often he had said before. Therefore it seemed that\nin the flesh and out of it his counsel was the same; one certainly\nthat I should take.\n\nWhat did it mean? That I should look no more upon the Fire; that I\nshould rise up and get me back to K\u00f4r and there play such parts as I\ncould compass, and wither and grow old and die, nurturing perchance\nthe children of Kallikrates and Amenartas, should they seek the Shades\nbefore me; or, growing weary of barbarians and ruins, flee away from\nK\u00f4r to find the fellowship of instructed men.\n\nThat is what this counsel meant. Well, what did that of my own heart\npromise me? Perhaps a swift death and after it punishment in some dim\nland beyond, because I had disobeyed the shadowy cautionings of the\nholy Noot and dared to make trial of a new Strength, against which as\nyet no man had matched himself. Or perhaps a glory greater than any\nman had ever dreamed, and a power far above that of emperors and a\nlife longer than that of mountains. Also more--more, the love that I\ndesired, to me a greater guerdon than all these boons added together\nand multiplied by the snowflakes upon Lebanon or the sands of the\nseashore. Surely, come what might of it, I would take my own counsel\nand let the other be.\n\nThe hour came; although I saw it not, I knew that it was that of dawn\nin the world without. I arose, I summoned the others; we departed down\nthat darksome path of which I have written, climbing from rock to rock\nin the bowels of the earth by the dim light of the lanterns which we\nbore.\n\nWe came to the outer cavern; we passed the passage and reached the\nsecond cavern, halting at the mouth of another passage through which\nat intervals shot flickerings of light, and from time to time sounds\nas of muttering thunder reached our ears.\n\n\"The treasure on which I would look lies yonder. Bide ye here,\" I\nsaid.\n\n\"Nay,\" answered Kallikrates, \"now as before I follow.\"\n\n\"Where my lord goes there go I also,\" said Amenartas.\n\nOnly Philo, the cautious Greek, bowed his head and answered,\n\n\"I obey. I bide here. If I am needed, summon me, O Child of Isis.\"\n\n\"Good,\" I cried, who at that moment thought little of Philo and his\nfate, though it is true that, cunning as he might be, I loved him\nwell.\n\nThen I went on and with me went Kallikrates and Amenartas.\n\n\n CHAPTER XXIII\n The Doom of the Fire\n\nWe stood in the third cave that was carpeted with white sand and\nalive with rosy light. Making a dark stain upon that snowy sand was a\nblack patch of dust. I knew it again; when last I had seen it, it bore\nthe withered shape of one long dead. The rolling many-coloured fire\napproached from afar; its muttering grew to a roar, its roar grew to\nsuch a thunder as shakes the mountain peaks and splits the walls of\ncitadels. It appeared, blazing with a thousand lights; for a while it\nhovered, twisting like a spun top. Then it departed upon its eternal\nround in the unknown entrails of the earth, and the tumult sank to\nsilence.\n\nKallikrates, terrified, flung himself upon his face; even the proud\nAmenartas fell to her knees, covering her eyes with her hands: only I\nstood erect and laughed, I who knew that I was betrothed to that fire\nand that it ill became the bride-to-be to shrink from her promised\nlord.\n\nKallikrates rose, asking,\n\n\"Where is the treasure which you seek, Prophetess? If it be hidden\nhere, in this awful house of a living god, look on it swiftly, and let\nus begone. I, a mortal man, am terrified.\"\n\n\"As well you may be,\" broke in Amenartas, \"since such wizardries as\nthese have not been told of in the earth. I say it, who know something\nof wizardries, and like my father have stood face to face with spirits\nsummoned from the Under-world, giving them word for word of power.\"\n\n\"My treasure lies in the red heart of yonder raging flame, and\npresently I go to pluck it thence,\" I answered in a quiet voice.\n\"Whether I shall return I do not know. Perchance I shall abide in the\nfire and be borne away upon its wings. Stay if you will, or if you\nwill, while there is yet time, depart, but trouble me no more with\nwords, who must steel my soul to its last trial.\"\n\nThey stared at me, both of them, and remained silent.\n\nFor a space I stood still pondering. It seemed to me that I was the\nplaything of two great Strengths that dragged me forward, that dragged\nme back. The spirit of the Fire cried,\n\n\"Come, O Divine! Come, be made perfect, and queen it in this red heart\nof mine. Come, drink of that full cup of mysteries which no mortal\nlips have drained. Come, see those things that are hidden from mortal\neyes. Come, taste of joys wherewith no mortal heart has ever throbbed.\nHaste, haste to the fiery bridal and in the glory of my kiss learn\nwhat delight can be. Oh! doubt no more but take Faith by the hand and\nlet her lead thee home. Doubt no more! Be brave, lay down mortality:\nput on the spirit and as a spirit sit enthroned beyond the touch of\ntime and with immortal eyes, robed in eternal majesty, watch the\ngenerations pass, marching with sad feet from darkness into darkness.\nBehold there he stands who is appointed to thee, who was thine from\nthe beginning, who shall be thine until the end of ends. Thy new-born\nloveliness shall chain him fast and he shall grow drunken in the\nbreath of thy perfumed sighs who for ever and for ever and for ever\nshall be thy very own, turning the winter of thy widowed heart to\nsummer of perpetual joy.\"\n\nThus spake the spirit of the Flame, but to it there answered another\nspirit that wore the shape of Noot, yea, of Noot grown stern and\nterrible.\n\n\"Turn back, O Wisdom's Daughter, ere thou art wrapped in the robe of\nmadness and repentance comes too late,\" it seemed to say. \"Always the\ntempter tempts and when bribe after bribe is scorned, at last he pours\nhis richest jewels at the feet of her whom he would win. Woe, woe to\nher who, charmed of their false glitter, clasps them upon brow and\nbreast, for there they shall change to scorpions and through the\nliving flesh gnaw to the brain and heart within. Departing, have I not\nset thee to watch the Fire and wilt thou steal the Fire, therewith to\nmake thyself a god? Do so and this I swear to thee: that the godhead\nwhich thou shalt put on will be that of hell. Thy love shall be\nsnatched away; undying, through all the earth, through all the stars,\nthou shalt follow after him and never find, or, if thou findest, it\nwill be but to lose again. Dost thou dare to wrest thy destiny out of\nthe hand of Fate and fashion it to thy desire with the instrument of\nthy blind and petty will? Do so, and d\u00e6mons shall possess it that\nfrom age to age shall drive thee on, torn by the furies of remorse,\nchoked with bitter, unavailing tears, frozen by the icy blasts of\nsorrow; desolate, alone, unfriended, till at last thou standest before\nthe Judgment-seat hearkening with bowed head to a doom that can never\nbe undone. Daughter of Wisdom, art thou sunk so low that thou wilt\nforget thine oaths and break thy trust to rob another woman of her\nlover?\"\n\nThose visions passed and I grasped denial's robes. I would not do this\nthing. I would live out my life upon the earth, I would die--oh! might\nit be soon--to pass to whatever place had been prepared for me, or to\nsink into the deep abysm of that rich and boundless sleep which no\ndreams haunt.\n\nAye! renouncing joy and renounced of hope, already I turned to go and\nclimb my upward path back to the bitter world.\n\nThen, from far, far away came the faint music of the chant of the\nadvancing god of Fire. Low and sweet it sang at first, soft as a\nmother's lullaby, and lo! I dreamed of happy childhood's day. It\nswelled and grew and now I had entered into womanhood and strange,\nuncomprehended longings companioned me. It took a fiercer note and I\nbethought me of the beating of the hoofs of horses as, mounted on my\ncrested stallion, I rushed across the desert like the wind. Louder\nyet, and behold! once more I was in the battle at my father's side;\nbehind me the wild tribesmen surged and shouted; in front of me my\nfoes were beaten down to death. Ah! bright flashed my javelin, ah!\nfree flowed my hair among the flapping pennons. \"The Daughter of\nYarab! Follow the daughter of Yarab!\" cried the thousands of my kin,\nand on we went, like sun-loosed snows down mountains, on upon the\nmarshalled host beneath. We broke them, for who could stand before the\nDaughter of Yarab and her kin? We trampled them, Egyptian and Syrian\nand Mede and the men from Chittim's Isle; down they went before that\nwild charge, and see! my bright spear was red.\n\nDeeper yet and more solemn grew that mighty music. Now I was alone in\nthe wilderness beneath the stars, and from the stars knowledge and\nbeauty fell upon my heart like dew. Now I was a ruler of men, and\nkings who would be my lovers bent at my feet and were the puppets of\nmy hands. I cast them down and broke them; I saw Sidon go up in flames\nand filled my soul with vengeance. Hark! It is the footstep of the\ngoddess, the Queen of Heaven sets her kiss upon my brow; she names me\nDaughter, her Appointed. Knowledge is mine, out of my lips flow\nprophecies, a spirit guides my feet. I, I hold my own against the\nPersian, when all else have fled I cast him from his throne. I give\nhis pomp to the tongues of Fire. Oh! how they cry, those mockers of\nEgypt's gods, as I watch them scorch and perish.\n\nI am lonely. Where is my love? I wend toward the grave and none are\nborn of me. I seek my love. \"There stands thy love--not far away, but\nat thy side. Take him, take him, take him!\" Thus said the Fire.\n\nNow its voice is the voice of trumpets that blare and echo around the\nhills. They call, those trumpets call: \"Where is the captain of our\nhosts? Where is our Queen? Come forth, O Queen, crowned with wisdom,\ndiademed with power, holding in thine hand the gift of days. No longer\nwould we be left leaderless, we who would march to victory and hold\nthe world in thrall.\"\n\nThe King of Fire is at hand. He opens the gateways of the dark. Behind\nhim march the legions: he comes with splendour, he comes with glory,\nhe comes to take his bride. \"Unrobe, unrobe! Prepare thyself, O Bride!\nThe King of Fire calls!\"\n\nI unloosed my garments, I unbound my hair that covered me like to a\nsable robe.\n\n\"Art mad?\" cried the Greek, Kallikrates, wringing his hands.\n\n\"Art mad?\" echoed the royal Amenartas with a slow smile as she waited\nto see mine end.\n\n\"Nay, I am wise,\" I answered back, \"I who weary of tame days and\ncommon things, I who seek death or triumph.\"\n\nI ran. I stood in the pathway of the Fire. It saw; it stretched out\nits arms to me. Lo! it wrapped me round and in my ears I heard the\nshoutings of the stars.\n\nOh! what was this? I did not burn. The blood of the gods flowed\nthrough my veins. The soul within me became as a lighted torch. The\nFire possessed me, I was the Fire's and in a dread communion the Fire\nwas mine. By that lit torch of my heart I saw many visions; veils\nrolled up before my eyes revealing glory after glory, glories that\ncannot be told. Death shrank away from before my feet; pale and\nashamed he shrank away. Pain departed, weakness was done. I stood the\nQueen of all things human.\n\nLo! mirrored in that Fire as in water I saw myself, a shape of\nloveliness celestial. Could this form be the form of woman? Could\nthose orbs divine be a woman's eyes?\n\nThen a great silence and in the silence a silvery tinkling sound that\nI knew well--the sound of the laughter of Aphrodite!\n\nThe pillar of flame had rolled away, its thousand blinding lights had\nceased to shine, and there I stood triumphant, conquering, never to be\nconquered. I came forth speaking with a voice of music, knowing that I\nhad inherited another soul. What now to me was Isis or any other\ngoddess, to me who stood victorious, the equal of them all? Oh! I saw\nnow that Isis was but Nature and henceforth Nature was my slave. I\nthought no more of sin or of repentance, I who from this day forth\nwould fashion my own laws and be to myself a judge. That which I\ndesired, that I would take. That which was hateful to me that would I\ncast away. Yea! I was Nature's very self. I felt all her springs\nstirring in my blood; it glowed with the heats of all her summers. I\nwas kind with the kindness of her fruitful autumns; I was terrible\nwith her winter wrath.\n\nLook! There stood the man whom I desired. Somewhat coarse and poor he\nseemed to me; I smelt death upon him. To be my mate he must be my\nequal; he too must taste of the Fire; then we would talk of love. As\nhe was, my love was not for him, nay, it would destroy him as the\nlightning blasts.\n\n\"Look on me, Kallikrates,\" I cried, \"and tell me, in all your days\nhave you seen aught so fair?\"\n\n\"Fair, yes, fair!\" he gasped, \"but terrible in beauty. No woman, no\nwoman! A very spirit. Oh! let me shut mine eyes. Let me flee!\"\n\n\"Be still and wait,\" I answered, \"for soon I shall show you how they\nmay be opened. Look on me, Daughter of Pharaoh, and tell me, has that\nstamp of age of which you spoke to me not long ago departed from my\nface and form, or is it yet apparent?\"\n\n\"I look,\" she answered, still bold, \"and I see before me no child of\nman, but a very witch. Away from us, accursed witch! Clothe yourself,\nshameless one, and begone, or let us begone, leaving you to commune\nwith your witch's fire.\"\n\nI cast my robes around me and oh! they hung royally. Then once more I\nturned to Kallikrates, considering him. As I looked I became aware\nthat a great change had fallen upon me. I was no longer the Ayesha of\nold days. That Ayesha had been spirit-driven; her soul had aspired to\nthe heavens; it glistened with the dews of purity. True, I had loved\nthis man, little at the first, and more a hundred times after Noot had\nsuffered me to look upon the Fire, since with the sight and the sound\nand the odours of it the great change began.\n\nThat Ayesha was one who dreamed of heavenly things; one with whom\nprayer was a constant habit of the mind; yes, all her thoughts were\nmixed with the leaven of prayer, so that the humblest deed and the\nmost common of imaginings were by it sanctified! She knew that here\nwas not her home, but that far away and out of sight, beyond the seas\nand mountains of the world, her everlasting house rose white and\nstately and that with her earthly toil and sufferings she built it\nstone by stone, filling its halls and porticoes with ivory statues of\nthe gods, making it pure with clouds of incense that their perfected\nsouls brooding on her soul drew from it, as at dawn the sun draws mist\nfrom rivers.\n\nWith grief and toil, with bleeding feet; buffeted by the winds of\ncircumstance, wet with the rain of tears, washed by the waters of\nrepentance, she climbed the stony upward path that led to the Peak of\nPeace. She believed in she knew not what, for always to her those gods\nwere man-shaped symbols. Still day and night she struggled on, lit by\nthe rays of the lamp of faith, sure that in the end the veils would be\nwithdrawn and that she would look upon the Face Divine and hear its\nvoice of welcome. She was obedient to the Law; she knew that time was\nnot her own and that of every moment she must give account. Aye, she\nwas in the way of holiness and before her shone the golden guerdons of\nredemption.\n\nBut now. What was Ayesha now when she had known the embrace of the\nSpirit of Fire, when she had dared the deed and wrung the secret from\nhis burning heart? Aye, when on the earth she had attained to\nimmortality, since even then a voice cried in her ears:\n\n\"Behold! thou shalt not die. Behold while the world lives, with it\nthou shalt live also, because thou hast drunk of the wine of Earth's\nprimeval Soul that cannot be spilled until its mighty fabric is\ndissolved into the nothingness whence it sprang!\"\n\nWhat was she now? She was that very Earth. She was that Soul poured\ninto the white vase of a woman's form; aye, she was its essence. Its\nlightnings and its hurricanes lay chained within her, ready to leap\nout when she was wrath, and who could abide before their strength? She\nknew all Earth's glory as alone it swung through space, kissed of the\nlight of the Sun its father, or dreaming in the arms of darkness. The\nplanets were her sisters, the bright, blazing stars acknowledged her\nas kin. Aye; with this mother-world she symbolled she was numbered\namong the multitude of that hierarchy of heaven.\n\nNor was this all, for in her reigned and glowed every power and\npassion of the Earth. Thenceforth all things were at her command, but,\nlike that Earth, _she was alone and could no more speak with Heaven!_\n\nIn a flash, in a twinkling, all this mighty truth came home to me, and\nwith it other truths. I did not doubt, I did not dream, I knew, I\nknew, I _knew_!\n\nThere stood the man and I would take him. He was wed according to\nNature's law, and now I owned no other. But what of that? The wine\nthat I desired I would drink. I would mate me as the wild things\nmated, by strength and capture, since I was very strong and who could\nstand against my might? I, the reborn Ayesha, had commanded. It should\nbe done.\n\n\n\"Kallikrates,\" I said in my new voice of honeyed sweetness, \"behold\nyour spouse, one of whom you need not be ashamed. Make ready,\nKallikrates. Go stand in the path of the Fire when it returns, and\nthen let us hence to reign eternally.\"\n\n\"What, Witch,\" cried Amenartas, \"would you rob me of my lord? It shall\nnot be. If you are mighty, so am I, although I remain a woman.\nKallikrates, look on me, your wife, she who has borne your child, that\nlost child who binds us yet with bonds that may not be broken. Have\ndone with this fair d\u00e6mon ere she enchant you. Away! Away from this\nhaunted, mocking hell.\"\n\n\"I come. Surely I come,\" said Kallikrates, glancing at me fearfully.\n\"I am afraid of her, and of that fire I will have none. Surely it is\nSet himself wrapped about with flames.\"\n\n\"Nay, you go not, Kallikrates. Let Amenartas go if she desires. Here\nyou abide with me until all is accomplished. I command, and when I\ncommand, you must obey.\"\n\nHe wheeled about; he flung himself into the arms of Amenartas. They\nclosed around him and held him fast. Then I threw out my will. Saying\nnothing I laid my strength upon him, so that he was dragged from out\nthose arms and with slow steps drew near to me, as the bird draws near\nto the snake that charms it with its baleful eyes. Amenartas leapt\nbetween us and from her lips flowed words in torrents.\n\nAll she said I do not know; it is forgot; but very sore she pleaded\nand very bitterly she wept. Yet my heart, new steeled in yonder fire,\nfelt no pity for her. An hour past I should have bade him go his way\nand to look upon my face no more, but now it was otherwise. I was\ncruel, cruel as Death, King of the world. The wild beast does not\nspare its rival, neither would I.\n\nStill I drew him with my strength; still Amenartas clung and pleaded,\ntill at last madness took hold of that tormented man. He raved, he\ncursed us both, he cursed himself who had left the quiet halls of\nIsis, who had spurned the love divine to seek the arms of woman. He\nprayed to Isis to be pitiful, to forgive, to receive his soul and\nshrive it.\n\nThen suddenly from his belt he snatched his short Grecian sword and\nstabbed at his own heart.\n\nSwift as a snake that strikes, or a falcon stooping at its prey, I\nsprang. I seized his arm, I dragged it back, and such might was there\nin my grasp, aye, the might of Hercules himself, that the sword flew\nfar, and the strong man who held it reeled round and round and fell.\n\nWe stood aghast, thinking that he was sped. Yet he rose, the red blood\nrunning from his breast, and in a quiet voice, a little laugh upon his\nlips, said to Amenartas, not to me,\n\n\"Fear nothing, Wife. Alas! it is but a cut--skin deep, no more.\"\n\n\"Then let the fire heal it, O Kallikrates. Make ready to enter the\nfire that must soon retravel its circling path,\" I answered.\n\n\"Nay, nay, Husband,\" cried Amenartas. \"By that blood of yours, the\nblood that flowed in our dead son and flows in that of the child to\nbe, I adjure you turn from this witch and temptress and break her\nenchanted bonds.\"\n\n\"By our dead son,\" he repeated after her in a strange and heavy voice.\n\"With what holier words could you conjure, O my wife? With that name\nof power I am new-armoured. Daughter of Wisdom, I reject your\nproffered gifts, nor will I enter your charmed fire though it should\ngive to me eternal strength and gloriousness, and with these your\nshining beauty and your love. Child of the gods, farewell! I go to\nseek peace and pardon if it may be found. Yes, pardon for you and me,\nand for Amenartas, the mother of my child. Daughter of Wisdom, fare\nyou well for ever!\"\n\nI heard, and it seemed to me that I stood alone in the midst of a\ngreat silence while those cruel words, divorcing me from hope, fell\none by one upon me like ice-drops from the sky, cutting to brain and\nheart and freezing me to stone. Then of a sudden rage possessed me,\nsuch rage as Nature knows in her fiercest moods, and I spoke as it\ngave me words, saying,\n\n\"I call down death upon thee, Kallikrates the Greek. Death be thy\nportion and the grave thy home. Because thou hast rejected me, because\nthou hast offered me insult to my face, it is my will that thou mayest\ndie; it is my desire that thy name be blotted out from the roll of\nLife. Die, then, Kallikrates, that thine eyes may torment me no more\nand that I may learn to mock thy memory.\"\n\nThus I spoke those words of doom in my madness, though what conceived\nthem in my heart I do not know. There they sprang up suddenly at the\ntouch of the wand of Evil, such evil as until now I had never dreamed.\nLo! in a moment they fulfilled themselves. There before my eyes the\nman _died_, smitten of the dominion over Death that was the Fire's\nfatal gift to me, as now, all unprepared, instantly I learned. Yes,\nthe first service that I made of my dread majesty was to hurl that\nawful doom at the heart of the man I loved.\n\nHe died! Kallikrates died there before our eyes. Yet being dead, still\nhe stood upon his feet and spoke, though even then I knew that it was\nnot he who spoke, but some spirit possessing his perished flesh. His\nlips did not move, his eyes were glassed, his voice was not the voice\nof Kallikrates, nay, nor the voice of mortal man. Yet he spoke, or\nseemed to speak, and these were the words he said,\n\n\"Woman, known on earth as Ayesha, daughter of Yarab, but in the\nUnder-world by many another name, hearken to thy fate. Here, where\nthou hast betrayed thy trust, here where thou didst slay the man of\nthy desire, here through long ages shalt thou abide undying, until in\nthe fulness of time he returns to thee, O Ayesha, in lonely bitterness\nshalt thou abide; tears shall be thy drink and remorse thy bread. The\npower that thou didst crave shall be but a blunted, unused sword\nwithin thine hand. Thy kingdom shall be a desolation, thy subjects\nbarbarians, and from century to century thy companions shall be the\ndead.\"\n\nThe voice ceased and I answered it, asking,\n\n\"And when the returning tide of Time bears this man back to me, what\nthen, O Spirit? Is all hope passed from me, O Spirit?\"\n\n\nNo answer came, but that which had been Kallikrates sank in a huddled\nheap upon the sand.\n\n\n CHAPTER XXIV\n The Counsel of Philo\n\nRoaring like a whirlwind, shouting triumphantly, once more the wheel\nof fire rolled on its tremendous course. I watched it come, I watched\nit go, while in it I thought I saw grinning, elf-like faces that\ngibbered at me and thrust out tongues of derision. It departed on its\nsecret journey through the bowels of the world. Its thunder sank to\nmutterings, its mutterings to silence, while I said to my heart that\ncould I be sure that it would slay, I would cast myself beneath its\nchariot wheels.\n\nTo what purpose? Since then, as I believed in those days, in the\nflames I should find but added life--I who could not die.\n\nIt was gone. Naught remained save the cave carpeted with white sand\nand the rosy light playing on the body of the dead Kallikrates. Nay,\nAmenartas remained also, and I became aware that she was cursing me by\nall her gods, or rather by those who had been her gods before she\nturned her face from them, seeking the counsel of familiar spirits.\n\nBravely she cursed and long, calling down upon my head every evil that\ncan be found in heaven above or earth beneath; she who did not know\nthat this was needless, for already the winged Furies had made it\ntheir resting-place and before they could be uttered all her\nimprecations were fulfilled.\n\n\"Have done!\" I said when at length she grew weak and weary, \"and let\nus summon Philo to help us bear this noble clay to some fitting\nsepulchre.\"\n\n\"Nay, Witch,\" she answered, \"use your magic on me also, if you can.\nSlay the wife as you have slain the husband, and here let us rest\neternally. What tomb can be better for both of us than that which saw\nour murder.\"\n\n\"Have done!\" I repeated. \"You know well that I have no desire to kill\nyou and that it was my madness, not my will, that brought doom on\nKallikrates, whom we loved; I who had not learned that henceforth my\nspirit is a bow winged with deadly shafts.\"\n\nI went down the cave and through the passage that lay beyond and from\nits mouth called to Philo to follow me.\n\nHe came, and perceiving my new loveliness as I stood awaiting him in\nthe rosy light, fell to the ground, kissing my feet and the hem of my\nrobe, and muttering,\n\n\"O Isis-come-to-Earth! O Queen divine!\"\n\n\"Rise up and follow me,\" I said, and led him to where lay Kallikrates,\nby whom knelt the widowed Amenartas weeping bitterly.\n\n\"Overwhelmed with the sight of glory, alas! this lord has slain\nhimself,\" I said, and pointed to the wound in the dead man's breast\nwhence still the blood oozed drop by drop.\n\n\"Nay, this witch slew him,\" moaned Amenartas, but if Philo heard her\nwords, he took no heed of them.\n\nThen at my command the three of us lifted Kallikrates and bore him\nthence up the difficult ways, which never could we have done had I not\ndiscovered that now in my woman's shape that seemed so frail and weak\nwas hid unmeasured strength.\n\nSo through the caves and up the winding slopes and stairs we bore the\ndead Kallikrates, bringing him back to the hermitage of Noot but a\nlittle before the hour of sunset. Here I commanded Amenartas and Philo\nto eat and drink, though myself I needed neither food nor wine. While\nthey did so, aided of this new strength of mine, I lifted the body of\nNoot from where it knelt and laid it down, crossing the hands upon the\nbreast, and having covered it with a robe, left him to his last sleep.\n\nThese things finished, we carried Kallikrates to the crest of the\nSwaying Stone, and waited the coming of the ray. Suddenly it shone\nout, and in its fierce light we dared the shifting bridge. Beneath a\nweight which it was ill designed to bear, the frail thing broke just\nas Amenartas and Philo, bearing the feet of the dead man, had found\nfooting upon the point of the spur beyond. It seemed that I should\nhave fallen, yet I fell not, who, I know not how, found myself at\ntheir side still supporting Kallikrates in my arms.\n\nThen it was that first I learned that as I was protected from the\ngnawings of the tooth of Time so also I was armoured against all the\nstrokes of chance. This indeed became very clear to me in the after\ndays. Thus once when the roof of a cave fell upon me and others they\nwere slain but I remained unbruised, and again, when a deadly snake\nbit me, its poison harmed me not at all. But what of these things\nwhich are not worthy to be chronicled, seeing that if I could die, in\nthe passing of two thousand years and more, what men call mishap must\nlong since have brought me to my end.\n\nWe bore Kallikrates down the spur and through the cavern whence it\nsprings, till at length we found the litters waiting for us, and in\none of these we laid his quiet form.\n\nThus at length we came back to K\u00f4r at the hour of the dawn.\n\nAgain we lifted up the corpse of Kallikrates and carried it to the\nchamber where I slept. A thought came to me.\n\n\"Philo,\" I said, \"did you not tell me that among those who serve us in\nthis temple are certain aged medicine-men who declare that knowledge\nof the arts whereby the people of old K\u00f4r preserved their dead from\ncorruption has come down to them, which arts they still practise from\ntime to time?\"\n\n\"It is so, O Queen,\" for so he named me now. \"There are three of\nthem.\"\n\n\"Good. Summon them, Philo, and bid them bring with them their\ninstruments and spices.\"\n\nAwhile later the three appeared, very aged, cunning-looking men who\nhad upon their hook-nosed faces the stamp of high and ancient blood. I\npointed to the body of Kallikrates and asked,\n\n\"Are ye able to hold back this holy flesh from the foul fingers of\ndecay?\"\n\n\"If he be not more than forty hours dead,\" answered one of them, \"we\ncan do so in such fashion that when five thousand years have passed it\nwill seem as it does at this hour, O Queen.\"\n\n\"Then to your office, Slaves, and know that if ye do as ye have\npromised ye shall receive great reward. But if ye lie to me, ye die.\"\n\n\"We do not lie, O Queen,\" he said.\n\nForthwith they lit a fire outside the chamber and thereon set a large\nearthen pot. In this pot, mixed with water, they placed dried leaves\nof a certain shrub, in shape long and narrow, and boiled them to a\nbroth, whereof the pungent odour seemed to fill all the air about.\nWhile the pot was boiling they took the corpse of Kallikrates, and,\nhaving washed it, brushed it everywhere with some secret stuff that\ngave to it the aspect of white and shining marble. Then they brought a\nfunnel of clay with a curved point, and having opened the great artery\nof the throat, inserted the point into the artery.\n\nThis done, they stood the stiff corpse on its feet and while two of\nthem held it thus, the third brought the pot into which they poured\nstuff that looked like glass when it is molten, mixing all together\nwith a rod of stone. Then he set a ladder, perhaps four paces in\nlength, against the wall, and carrying the pot, climbed to the top of\nit, whence slowly he poured the brew into the funnel beneath so that\nits weight forced it through all the dead man's veins. When the most\nof it was gone he descended and the three of them finished their work\nin some way that I did not stay to watch, for the sight of this grim\npreparation for the tomb and the scent of these spicy drugs overcame\nme.\n\nAt length they summoned me and showed me Kallikrates lying like to one\nin a deep sleep, calm and beautiful as he had been in life.\n\n\"O Queen,\" said their spokesman, \"by to-morrow at the sunrise the\nflesh of this man will be as marble, and so everlastingly remain. Then\nbear him where you will, but till then let him rest untouched.\"\n\nI bade that they should be rewarded, and they went their ways. But\nfirst I asked them where the inhabitants of old K\u00f4r were wont to lay\ntheir royal dead. They answered that it was in the great caves at a\nlittle distance across the plain, and I commanded that on the morrow\nthey should guide me thither, bearing the body of Kallikrates.\n\nPhilo came and said that the priests and priestesses of Isis would\nhave speech with me and that they were gathered in the inmost court of\nthe great temple before the veiled statue of the goddess Truth. I bade\nhim lead on, but he wavered a little and said,\n\n\"O Queen, there is trouble. The royal lady, Amenartas, has told a tale\nin the ears of those priests and priestesses. She has sworn to them\nthat you are not a woman but a d\u00e6mon; aye, a witch risen from the\nUnder-world, and that you murdered the lord Kallikrates because he\nwould not give himself to you. Also she swore that you strove to\nmurder her who, being protected by the magic which her father\nNectanebes, the great wizard, taught her, was too strong for you and\ntherefore escaped alive.\"\n\n\"As to the last, she lies,\" I answered carelessly.\n\nWe came to the inmost court. It was the hour of sunset and the place\nwas filled with glowing light. I took my seat upon the throne-like\nchair beneath the statue and the light beat full upon me, a glory on a\nglory.\n\nThe priests and priestesses who were standing still with folded arms\nand bowed heads looked up and saw me. A murmur of astonishment rose\nfrom them and I heard one say to the other,\n\n\"The Princess has told us truth.\"\n\nAt first I did not understand; then I remembered that I was no longer\nas mortal women are, but rather, as my mirror told me, an incarnate\nsplendour, a very goddess to the sight.\n\n\"Speak,\" I said, and they shook at the new rich note of power in my\nvoice, as leaves vibrate at the sudden swell of music.\n\nThe first of the priests, a large man of middle age, Rames by name,\nstood forward and fixing his round eyes upon my face, said,\n\n\"O Prophetess, O Daughter of Wisdom, O Isis-come-to-Earth, we know not\nwhat to say, since we have heard that you have changed your shape, now\nas is evident to us. Prophetess, you are not the same high-priestess\nwho ruled over us in the temple at Memphis and whom we followed to\nthis desolate land. Some magic has been at work with you.\"\n\n\"If so,\" I answered, \"is it an evil magic? Tell me, Rames, am I\nchanged for better or for worse?\"\n\n\"You are beautiful,\" he answered, \"so beautiful that madness must take\nall men who look on you. But, Prophetess, your loveliness is not such\nas mortal woman wears. Nay, it is such as Typhon might give to one who\nhad sold her soul to him. Also, there is more. We learn that you\nmurdered that Grecian, Kallikrates, who once was of our fellowship,\nbecause he refused his love to you; yes, that you, the high-priestess\nof Isis, murdered a man because he turned from your arms to those of\nhis wife, the royal Amenartas, and that if you could, you would have\nmurdered her also.\"\n\n\"Who tells this tale?\" I asked slowly.\n\n\"The Princess herself,\" Rames answered. \"See, she is here. Let her\nspeak.\"\n\nAmenartas appeared from among the throng, and cried,\n\n\"It is true, it is most true. Here before the statue of Truth herself,\nI swear it in the face of Heaven and to all the listening earth. There\nis a wound on the breast of my dead lord, Kallikrates. Ask yonder\nwitch how that wound came there. Clothed only in her hair, she entered\ninto a fire, a fire of hell. She came forth beautiful with a beauty\nthat is not human. She called my lord to embrace her. Yes, this\nshameless one, she named herself his spouse. This she did before the\neyes of his own wife and in the hearing of her ears. She bade him\nenter the Fire of Hell, and when he would not, when he turned to seek\nrefuge in my arms, she sent him down the path of death by her words of\npower. She said:\n\n\"'I call down death upon thee, Kallikrates. Death be thy portion and\nthe grave thine home. Die, Kallikrates, that thy face may torment me\nno more and that I may learn to mock thy memory.'\n\n\"These were her very words. Let her deny them if she can. I say,\nmoreover, that always she has desired to lead astray the lord\nKallikrates, and that when she could not do so of her woman's\nstrength, then she made a pact with Typhon and strove to mesh him in\nher magic, but strove in vain. Therefore she slew him in her rage.\"\n\nWhen the priests and priestesses heard these words they turned pale\nand trembled. Then they called to me to answer. But I said,\n\n\"I answer not. Who are you that I should render account to you of what\nI have or have not done? Think what you will and do what you will. I\nanswer not, save this, that what has chanced, has chanced by the\ndecree of Fate who sits above all gods and goddesses, throned beyond\nheaven's remotest star.\"\n\nThey drew apart, they talked together. Then Rames came forward and,\nstill staring at me, said:\n\n\"Whether you yet serve Isis, O Ayesha, daughter of Yarab, we do not\nknow. But we who are her children, sworn to her obedience for which we\nhave suffered many things, reject you from your place of rule in which\nyou were set above us by the holy Noot, whom we learn has passed to\nthe keeping of Osiris. No more are you our high-priestess, Ayesha, or\nEvil Spirit, and no longer shall you stand with us before the altars\nof the Queen of Heaven.\"\n\n\"Be it as you will,\" I answered. \"Go and leave me to make mine own\npeace with Isis, who now and henceforward am her equal, I who have\nlearned what Isis is, and been clothed with that same majesty. I see\nthat you believe me to blaspheme; the horror upon your faces tells me\nso. Yet I do not; here in the shadow of Truth--if it were but known,\nthe only goddess--I speak with the voice of Truth. Farewell. I wish\nyou good fortune, and in all things will aid you if I can. Tell me,\nPhilo, do you desert me like these others?\"\n\n\"Nay, O Queen,\" he answered, \"we are old comrades, you and I, who have\ngone through too much together to separate at last. I am a Greek who\nentered into the company of Isis chiefly after I met you, fair\nDaughter of Wisdom, and noted the deeds you did upon the ship _Hapi_,\nand to be short--whatever road you take is a good road for me. I know\nnot whether you slew this Kallikrates, or whether he slew himself with\nhis own sword, of which I noted the mark upon him, but if you offered\nhim your love and he refused it then I hold that he deserved to die.\n\n\"For the rest, I am a merchant who take my gain where I can find it,\nand I know that you pay well. Therefore I follow your banner to the\nend, whether it lead me to the Heaven of Isis or to the Hades of my\nforefathers, where doubtless I shall meet Achilles and Hector and\nOdysseus and many another gallant seafaring warrior of whom our Homer\nsings. That place whither you wend is home enough for me, for in your\npalace I shall always find a chamber, and on your ship of state I\nshall always stand upon the poop, however far the voyage.\"\n\nThus spoke that gay and cunning Greek, hiding the loyalty of his heart\nbeneath his jesting words, and truly in that hour of deserted\nloneliness my gratitude went out toward him, as still it does to-day\nand will do for evermore. For though Philo would take a bribe where he\ncould find it, as is the way of those who serve Fortune and must earn\nbread, still he was ever loyal to those he loved, and he loved me in\nthat high fashion which is born of long service and of fellowship.\nWhen at length I come into my great inheritance, and rule\notherwhere--as rule I shall--my first care shall be to reward Philo as\nhe deserves, although once or more he did fill his pouch with the gold\nof Amenartas, or so I believe.\n\nYet at this time I only smiled at him and asked,\n\n\"These things being done, what of the Princess of Egypt? Let her speak\nher desire that I may fulfil it, if I can.\"\n\n\"It is simple,\" answered Amenartas, \"that I may be rid of you, no less\nand no more. I would go hence to bear my child and to rear him to\nwreak vengeance on you for his father's blood, O Witch of the\nUnder-world, and until I die, to work and pray that the Furies may be\nyour bedfellows, O murderess and thief of love.\"\n\n\"Let these things befall as they are fated,\" I answered very quietly.\n\"The stage of doom is set and on it throughout the ages until the play\nends at last, we, the puppets of Destiny, must act our appointed parts\nto a consummation that we cannot foresee. But how will it end, Lady\nAmenartas? You know not; nor do I, though already some master's hand\nhas writ the last scene upon his roll. Philo, it is my command that\nyou lead Pharaoh's child to the coast, or wherever she would go, that\nthence she may find her way to Greece or Egypt as Fortune may direct\nher. That done, return and make report to me. Farewell, Amenartas.\"\n\n\"Fare ill, Witch,\" she cried. \"We part, but as I think, to meet again\nelsewhere, seeing that between you and me there is a score to settle.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" I answered gently enough. \"Yet boast not, Amenartas, and be not\ntoo sure of anything, since when at length that sum is added up, who\nknows on which side the balance will be struck.\"\n\n\"At least I know that the count will be long and that murder is a\nheavy weight in any scale,\" she answered.\n\nThen she went; they all went and left me alone brooding there upon the\nchair of state, in which I sat for the last time. The darkness closed\nabout me, then came the twilight of the rising moon in whose soft rays\nI saw the figure of a man creeping toward me as a thief creeps.\n\n\"Who comes?\" I asked.\n\n\"Beauteous Queen,\" answered a thick voice, \"it is I, Rames, the\npriest.\"\n\n\"Speak on, Rames.\"\n\n\"O most fair among women, if indeed you may be named woman, hear me.\nThose fools of priests and priestesses have thrown you from your\nplace.\"\n\n\"So you told me but now, Rames, nor can they be blamed.\"\n\n\"So I told you because I must, not of my own will, and that which is\ndone, cannot be undone. You are cast out and here in K\u00f4r the worship\nof Isis is at an end, since who is there that can fill your throne?\nYet, hearken, hearken! I cling to you, I worship you. I desire you to\nbe my wife, O most lovely. Here together we will rule in K\u00f4r and you\nshall be its Queen and goddess, and I will be its Captain. It is most\nwise that you should consent, O Lady divine.\"\n\n\"Why is it wise, Rames?\"\n\n\"Because, Lady, I can protect you. You know the sentence that goes out\nagainst those who break the rule of Isis. I say that it is already\nuttered against you. I say that those bigots seek to murder you. But\nif you take me as husband, then we will be beforehand with them and\nkill or drive them away. Yea, now that you are lonely and deserted, I\nshall be your sure shield.\"\n\nI heard and laughed aloud, and I think that this madman interpreted\nthat laugh in a strange fashion. At least he threw himself upon me. He\nseized my hand and lifted it toward his lips, though by those lips it\nwas never touched. For now rage took hold of me, such rage as had\npossessed my soul in the cave of the Fire of Life; rage and the desire\nof destruction, that with other evil gifts had come to me in the\nbreath of the Fire.\n\n\"Accursed one!\" I cried, \"vile and insolent thief! Do you dare to\ntouch me with your hand? Away with you to Set! Let the world know you\nno more!\"\n\nAs the words passed my lips it seemed to me that from some strength\nwithin a withering flame leapt out of me and smote that man as the\nlightning smites. At the least he lifted his hands to his head; he\nreeled back, he fell, he groaned--he died.\n\nLooking at him lying there in the moonlight, still and bereft of life,\nat the last I came to know full surely that henceforward I could slay\nwith a thought, that I was the Lady of Death, and that such wrath as\nothers express in words went forth from me with all the might of\nHeaven; moreover, that now this wrath rose suddenly and swiftly in me,\neasy to unchain, hard to hold. Yea, I was both a fury and a terror\nwhom no man might cross or vex if he would continue to look upon the\nsun.\n\nPhilo came. He stared at me and at the dead Rames, then questioned me\nwith his eyes.\n\n\"He would have laid hands on me, Philo, and I slew him,\" I said.\n\n\"Then what he has earned, he has been paid,\" answered Philo. \"Yet,\nQueen, how did you slay him? I see no bruise or wound.\"\n\n\"By a power that has come to me, Philo. I desired him dead and he\ndied. That is all the tale.\"\n\n\"A strange and a terrible power, Queen. Often when we are angry we\nwish that this one or that were dead--yet that they should forthwith\ndie--! Henceforth you must watch your moods well, Daughter of Wisdom,\nsince otherwise I think that you and I will soon be parted for, as I\nknow, at times you are angry with me, and when next that chances I\nshall be sped.\"\n\n\"Aye, Philo, so I have learned. I must watch my moods very well. Yet\nfear nothing, since never could I wish you dead.\"\n\n\"Are you sure, Ayesha? Hearken. What was the crime of this poor\nwretch? Was it not that he, who hitherto had been a virtuous man, a\ngood and earnest priest who never turned to look at woman, of a sudden\nwent mad for love of you, and in his madness urged his suit--well, as\nmen do when they have lost hold of the reins of reason, whereon you\nslew him? Now if men must die for such a crime, who is there that\nwould live to grow old? I think that all of them would soon be driven\nto dwell in such a hermitage as that wherein the holy Noot sleeps\nto-night. Is it not true? I ask you who know the world.\"\n\n\"It is true,\" I answered.\n\n\"If so, Lady, I would ask another question. What was it that sent this\nman mad? Was it not the sight of such beauty as has never yet been\nknown upon the earth? Which beauty, Ayesha, if I look upon it much\nlonger, I think will send me mad also, or any other man. Daughter of\nWisdom, such loveliness as you wear to-day is the greatest curse that\nthe gods can grant to woman, because being above Nature, all Nature\nmust obey its might. Daughter of Wisdom, henceforward you must veil\nyour face from the eyes of men, or become the murderess of more\nill-fated ones.\"\n\n\"It seems that this is so,\" I answered heavily. \"I have desired beauty\nand beauty has come to me, but however great, all gifts are not good.\"\n\n\"So I have heard philosophers preach in Greece, Lady, yet never did I\nknow one of them to turn his back on any gift. Ayesha, hide those eyes\nof yours, hide them swiftly. While Rames lies there dead, love is\nfrightened, but once his clay is gone, who knows? But I forgot, I came\nto warn you that a certain decree has been uttered against you, the\nsame, Queen, that you have uttered against Rames, also to protect you,\nif I can.\"\n\nNow I laughed outright.\n\n\"Foolish man,\" I said, \"do you not yet understand that I cannot be\nkilled or even harmed?\"\n\n\"Ye Gods!\" said Philo, holding up his hands in amazement. Then he was\nsilent.\n\n\nThat night I slept by the cold shape of Kallikrates and oh! it was the\nmost fearful of all nights that ever I had passed upon the earth.\nEvil, very evil were the dreams that came to me, if dreams they were.\nIn them it seemed that Noot spoke with me. Nay, not Noot, but a\nflickering tongue of fire which I knew to be the spirit of Noot.\nNaught could I see save that burning tongue, and from it came terrible\nwords.\n\n\"Daughter,\" it said, \"you have cast my counsels to the winds, you have\nbetrayed your trust, you have broken my commands that I gave to you\nout of the wisdom that was given to me. You have entered the Fire that\nyou were set to watch. You have been embraced by the Fire and received\nits gifts. Behold the first fruits of them. The man whom you would\nhave taken lies dead at your side, and yonder in the temple court\nanother lies dead also, who was good until your hell-granted beauty\nmade him evil. The worship of Isis is destroyed in this land that now\nnevermore will become a nation great and strong and pure. The heart of\nAmenartas is broken, yet she will live on to beget avengers, one of\nwhom will overtake you at the appointed time. In loneliness, in\nremorse, in utter desolation you must endure till the Fire dies that\ncannot die while the world is; seeking yet never finding, or finding\nbut to lose again. Henceforth you are an alien to the kindly race of\nmen, a beauteous terror that all must desire and yet all fear and\nhate. Ever that which you seek will flit before you like a wandering\nstar which you may never overtake, and in following it you will bring\ndeath to thousands. Daughter, you are accursed.\"\n\n\"Is there then no redemption?\" I asked of Noot in my dream.\n\n\"Aye, Ayesha, when the world is redeemed, then perchance you may find\nyour part in that great forgiveness. Hearken. There is a vision which\nthroughout your life has haunted you. In that vision Aphrodite and the\nevil gods, those gods that she had led into Egypt to destroy its\nhigher faith, were summoned before the throne of Isis. In it also a\nfate and a command were laid upon you--that you should war against\nthose gods and bring its punishment on Egypt that received and\nwelcomed them.\"\n\n\"It is but a fantasy,\" I answered. \"Now I know that there are no evil\ngods; there lives no Aphrodite; even no Isis.\"\n\n\"Daughter, you err. True, there is no Isis who was shaped only by the\nfaith of earth and in the dreams of men. Yet there is that which they\nname Isis, as the highest that they know and can fashion in their\nthought. There is the eternal Good and that Good is God. Throughout\nthe countless ages man, warring against Nature, has lifted up his\nheart till almost he seems to look upon the face of that almighty,\nregnant Good. Thus it was with you, Daughter, and now whither have you\nwended? You have fled down the backward path. You have undone all, you\nhave gone back to Nature. Henceforth you are Nature's self, shining\nwith her false and passing beauty, inspired with her law of death, you\nwho once drew near to the new law of Life that awaited you beyond the\ngrave, which now you may not seek.\"\n\n\"Whate'er I did, I did for Love and Love shall save me,\" I seemed to\nanswer in my agony.\n\n\"Aye, Ayesha, doubtless in the end Love will save you, as it saves all\nthings that without its grace must perish everlastingly. Yet for you\nthat salvation is now far away, and ere it can be found, one by one\nyou must conquer those passions that found you in the Fire. You who\nsought undying beauty, must see your fair body more hideous and more\nhorrible than the leper of the streets. You who are filled with rage\nand strength must grow gentle as a dove and weak as a little child. By\nsuffering you must learn to soothe the sufferings of others. By\nexpiation you must atone your crimes, by faith once more you must lift\nup your soul. By the knowledge you shall win you must come to\nunderstand your own blind pettiness through time untold. Ayesha, this\nis your doom.\"\n\nSuch was the substance of that dream and when I awoke from it, oh! how\nbitterly I wept. For now I understood. I was fallen--fallen! All that\nI had gathered through the long years of prayer and abstinence and\nservice had been reft from me, and I who stood near to joy had sunk\ninto a hell of unending sorrow. There was no Isis, so I had dreamed\nNoot to say, and so my new knowledge told me. Yet there was the\neternal Good which in Egypt men knew as Isis, and in other lands by\nmany a different name, and from that Good I was excommunicate.\n\nNow like my savage ancestors of a million years before, I was but a\npart of Nature as we see her upon the earth and feel her in our blood\nand--this was the most dreadful of my punishments--my wisdom and my\nlost faith had become rules by which I could mete out the measure of\nmy fall, for ignorance can smile at that which to knowledge is a hell.\nAll Nature's gifts were mine; all her beauty, all her desires, all her\nfierceness, all her hates, and one by one, through countless time I\nmust weed her every evil growth from the garden of my poisoned soul.\nThe curse with which she was accursed had smitten me also, and in the\nend her death would be my death. Such was the doom that I had brought\nupon my head when I had listened to the calling of that god of Fire.\n\nOh! looking upon the cold corpse of Kallikrates and feeling the\nprimeval passions surging in my breast, little wonder that I, the\nrejected of Heaven, wept as still I weep to-day.\n\nFor such is the lot of those who trample on all good as they run to\nseize the glittering gauds that the tempter spreads before their\nlusting eyes. Perchance Noot never broke his holy rest to speak to me\nin dreams; perchance it was the strength in my own soul that spoke to\nmy heart, as that strength, of which now I knew the power, in the old\ndays wrought marvels that then I believed to be done by the invisible\nhand of Isis. At least the lesson taught is true.\n\n\n CHAPTER XXV\n In Undying Loneliness\n\nEre the dawn, guided by those old embalmers and bearing with me the\ndead Kallikrates, I departed from that hateful K\u00f4r. As I think, none\nsaw me go, for, forgetful of their promised vengeance, the priests and\npriestesses were gathered trembling about the corpse of Rames in the\ninmost court of the Temple of Truth, though it is true that I felt the\nbaleful eyes of Amenartas watching me. Or perhaps it was her pursuing\nhate I felt, and not her eyes.\n\nVeiled so that no man might look upon my deadly beauty, I crossed the\nplain and came to the vast cave-sepulchres. Here those old embalmers\nlit lamps and showed me a deep and empty tomb. It had two shelves or\nniches, on one of which I laid my dead, choosing the other to be my\ncouch. Thus then I took up my abode in the Sepulchres of K\u00f4r that for\nsome two thousand years were to be my home.\n\n\nAt my command Philo led the royal Amenartas from the haunted land of\nK\u00f4r, and returning three moons later, told me, truly or not, that she\nhad passed the swamps and departed on a wandering ship, sailing north,\nwhither he knew not. I asked him no more who did not desire to learn\nof her words and curses, though as it chanced this I must do after\nlong ages had gone by. Some of the priests and priestesses went with\nher. Others remained in K\u00f4r and, if they were young enough, took\nwives or husbands and ruled there. Indeed, the last of their\ndescendants whom I could trace before their blood was utterly\nswallowed up in that of the barbarians, died after five hundred years\nor more had passed away.\n\nPhilo, too, lived on at K\u00f4r, making trading journeys to the coast and\nalong it in his ship and grew rich and, after a fashion, great. For\nPhilo would never leave me whom he loved, though no more would he look\nupon my unveiled face. At length, very old, he died in my arms, he who\nwould have none of the Fire and its gifts. When his breath left him,\nfor the first time since that night at K\u00f4r, I wept. For now I was\nquite alone.\n\nWhile he lay dying he prayed me to unveil, saying that now, when no\nharm could come of it, he would look upon my face once more. I did so\nand he studied me long and earnestly with his hollow eyes.\n\n\"You are wondrous beautiful,\" he said, \"nor during these past forty\nyears or more, since last I beheld you unveiled in the sanctuary of\nthe Temple of Truth, has your loveliness lessened by one wit. Indeed,\nI think that it has gathered. What is the meaning of this, fair\nDaughter of Wisdom?\"\n\n\"It means what I have told you before, Philo, that I do not die until\nthe world dies, although I may change and seem to pass away.\"\n\n\"Yet I die. Do we then part for ever?\" he asked.\n\n\"Nay, I think not, Philo, for at last Death overtakes everything and\nin its halls we may meet again. Moreover, the world lives long and to\nit, ere its end, you may return once, or often, and if so, perchance\nyou will be drawn to me.\"\n\n\"I trust so, O Wisdom's Daughter. They call you witch, and doubtless\nsuch you are, who can slay with a glance, whom age does not touch, and\nwhom Death scorns. Yet, witch or woman, or both, there lives none, no,\nnot even wife or child, whom I so desire to meet hereafter.\"\n\nSo Philo died, and since those medicine-men who had embalmed\nKallikrates now were dead also, leaving behind them none who had\nknowledge of their art, I buried him unpreserved in the great\nsepulchres.\n\nAwhile ago the fancy took me to go to look upon him, but alas! after\nthe passing of some sixteen hundred years, save for the skull, his\nnaked bones had crumbled into dust.\n\n\nWhat more is there to tell? All died and came again in their children:\ngeneration after generation of them did I watch arise, flourish in\ntheir wild fashion, and go their ways down the path of Death. I ruled\nthose barbarians, if rule it can be called. They were my slaves who\nfeared me as a spirit, and I was kind to them, but if they angered me,\nthen I slew them, for thus only could they be held in a due subjection\neven to one that they believed to be an ancient goddess whom their\nforefathers worshipped, Lulala by name, whose throne was in the moon.\n\nFor these Amahagger were a terrible people, barbarians who loved the\nnight because their deeds were evil, and who, if strangers wandered\namong them, slew them by the setting of red-hot pots upon their heads,\nand afterward ate their flesh. Yet among them were some of a nobler\nsort, descended, as I think, either from the unmixed blood of the\nancients of old K\u00f4r, or perchance from those priests and priestesses\nof Isis who had been my companions. Such a one was a certain Billali\nwhom my lord Leo and Holly knew. But for the most part they were\nhook-nosed, treacherous, dark-haunting savages, and as such they must\nbe handled.\n\nIn the course of those long ages, to divert myself in my loneliness\nand for the purposes of study, I reared certain of these savages up to\nthis and that. I stunted them to dwarfs, I bred them to giants.\nMusicians of a kind I made of some of them, though to do so took ten\nof their generations. Then I grew weary of the game and all these\nvariants died back into the common stock; that fundamental type to\nwhich, if left alone, every species that springs on earth returns in\ntime, and this more quickly than might be thought. The last breed that\nI created, or caused to create itself, was one of mutes evolved from a\nfaithful strain who had served me well, since I found these mutes more\ndocile and less wearisome than the rest.\n\nBut enough of that people with which I have done for ever.\n\nWhat did I do through all those awful ages? At first, as I found I had\nthe power, I threw my watching eyes across the world, and learned all\nthat happened there. Thus I saw the battles of Alexander, his\nconquests and his death, and the rise of the Ptolemies in Egypt; also\nmany other things in the countries with which I have had to do. But\nsoon I tired of it all.\n\nMen arose of whom I knew nothing. Peoples changed, and ever the play\nrepeated itself afresh, though with new actors. I had naught in common\nwith them and their petty aims and passions, I who watched as a god\nmight watch those that served him not, or as an idle child watches the\nlabours of colony after colony of ants. Yea, I tired of them and took\nno more heed of what they did or did not do upon their short journey\nto that forgetfulness wherewith the dust of Time would bury them. I\nwas dead to the world, and the world was dead to me.\n\nIn the ages that followed I sent out my soul to seek kindred souls and\nfound some with whom I communed, though they never knew who it was\nthat talked to them. With wise men throughout the earth I held this\nconverse, and from them gathered knowledge, giving them in return\nsomething of my wisdom, which doubtless they presented to the\ngenerations as their own. If so, the world was the gainer, and if\nTruth comes, what matters it whence it comes?\n\nI did more. I sought out the dead in their habitations beyond the\nstars, aye, and found not a few of them. Always they were eager to\nlearn of the world and in return paid me with the coin of their\nunearthly lore. They told me of those other worlds and I made\nacquaintance with their princes and their rulers: I gathered up the\nbroken fragments from the feasts that were spread upon these alien\ntables and drank of the dregs of their new wine. But, and here was the\nmystery, here was the grief: never once could I grasp the robe of any\nwhom I had known upon the earth. I found not my father, I found not\nNoot, I found not Kallikrates, I found not Philo, I found not Beltis\nor Amenartas. In all that countless multitude I discovered no single\nsoul to whom my mortal lips had spoken in its little day. Of friend or\nfoe I found not one. Perchance all of them were still asleep and\nresting in their sleep.\n\nI looked into the secrets of Nature and they opened themselves to me\nlike flowers beneath the sun. I inhaled their perfume, I admired their\nbeauty, so that at length little was hid from me. I learned how to\nturn clay to gold and how to harness the lightning to my service, aye,\nand many another thing. Yet what was the use of all of it to me, the\ndweller in a tomb?\n\nKnowledge, the lord, is a barren grant unless it can also be a\nservant; aye, a slave at command to work good for man.\n\nFor the rest, what did I do? Without the caves I sowed the seed of\ntrees. I watched them spring, I watched them grow to saplings and, in\nthe slow progression of the centuries, swell to great timbers with\nfar-stretching arms beneath whose shade I rested. Thus they stood for\nmany a hundred years. Then for many another hundred they decayed, grew\nhollow, rotted to dust and fell, their long day done at last. And I, I\nsowed me others.\n\nTo mark the passage of those years lest I should lose count of them,\nin a certain cavern I laid me stones, a stone for every one as from\nthe hand of Time it fell ripe into the bosom of Eternity. As on their\nrosaries, here and there, priests set larger beads to mark the tale of\ntheir completed prayers, so when ten years had gone I set a larger\nstone, and when a hundred had passed by, one larger yet and white in\ncolour, while the thousandth year I marked with a little pyramid, two\nof which now stand in the Caves of K\u00f4r. It was a good plan whereby I\ncould reckon easily, only some of the softer stones that lay near to\nthe mouth of that cavern where sun and rain could reach them at length\ncrumbled into sand.\n\nWhy did I stay at K\u00f4r? Why did I not wander forth through the world?\nBecause I _could not_, because of the curse that had been laid upon\nme, that here I must wait until Kallikrates came again, as come I knew\nhe would. Therefore no captive ever was more chained and fettered in\nhis dungeon than I, Ayesha, by that compelling curse in the Sepulchres\nof K\u00f4r, where night by night I laid me down to rest in the cold\ncompany of the dead. From time to time, once in a generation mayhap, I\nwould lift the cloths that covered him and look upon his pale beauty\n(for those old embalmers did not lie), and kiss his brow of ice and\nweep and weep. Then once more I laid the shroud, or a new shroud, upon\nhim and went my weary way.\n\nOh! it is terrible in this world where all is change, where even the\nstones grow and die to re-form again, to be the one thing that\nchangeth not for ever. Yet, that was my lot, such was the gift of the\nFire-lord whom I had wedded and embraced. There I sat in my eternal\nbeauty which I was doomed to hide, lest brute men should be maddened\nat the sight of it, so that I must slay them with the lightning of my\nwill. There I brooded, gathering to my breast all that wisdom of\nMother Nature of whom now I was a part, all the useless wisdom whose\nweight at length clogged my sense and cramped my soul. There I sat,\neaten of desire for one dead and burning with jealous hate of that\nwoman who had borne his child and who, as I knew well, wandered with\nhim, greater than I perhaps and still more fair, in some Elysium that\neven my spirit could not reach, taking the place that I might fill, if\nonly I could attain to the boon of death which is everlastingly denied\nto me, until the old world itself shall die. There, I say, I sat while\nthe slow fire of the torturer Time, burning in my breast, ate its path\nthrough all my being, till the hot soul within me turned to the bitter\nash of hopelessness.\n\nOh! why did he not come? Why did he not come? Surely the circle must\nbe complete and the time fulfilled. Surely he must weary of those\nunknown heavenly fields and of the coarse love of Egypt's Lady. Surely\nhe would come and soon. Only then, what if here, as there, she still\ncompanioned him?\n\nAt length one came, and when I learned of it my heart flamed up with\nhope as a torch flames in these dark caves. Alas! it was not he. So\nsoon as my eyes fell on him afar, I knew it, yonder in the temple of\nK\u00f4r whither I had gone upon the matters of some petty savage trouble,\nsuch as had arisen thrice since the days of Philo. I saw and grew sick\nwith hope destroyed, so sick that had he but known it, this little,\nwizened wanderer at that moment stood near to the world's edge. Yet\nafterward I came to like him well, perchance because he reminded me so\nmuch of Philo that once or twice almost I thought---- But let this\nmatter be.\n\nHe was a strange man, that wanderer; very shrewd, but one who believed\nnothing which he could not see or touch or handle. Thus when I told\nhim tales concerning myself and my length of days and why I sat at\nK\u00f4r in beauty, yet like one who is dead in a desert, openly he mocked\nat them, which angered me. Not all of these were true, be it admitted,\nbecause, being a part of Nature as I am, how can I always speak the\ntruth?\n\nNature shows many faces to those who court her; Nature has\ndesert-phantasies wherewith the traveller is oft deceived, thinking he\nsees that which he does not see, though in some shape or form of a\nsurety it exists elsewhere. Nature also keeps her secrets close and\never instructs in parables that yet hold the seed of perfect verity.\n\nSo, being a part of Nature's self, did I with that wanderer, as indeed\nI do to this day with Holly the learned, who followed after him. Yet\nhere the example has its flaw, for this man who was called\nWatcher-in-the-Night, a name that fitted him well enough, did not\ncourt me, as her watchers court Nature the beautiful. Nay, he turned\nhis back upon me saying he was not one who loved, moth-like, to singe\nhis wings in a flame, however bright; I think because often he had\nsinged them already.\n\nStill, I found this so strange that almost I began to wonder whether\nonce more my beauty was on the wane and whether it needed longer to be\nhidden beneath a veil, or whether perchance men had grown wiser than\nthey used to be. Therefore, once for a little moment I put out my\nstrength and brought him to his knees and having taught him certain\nlessons, I laughed at him and let him go. Yet be it said that I held\nand hold him dear, and look onward to the day when we shall meet\nagain, as perchance we had met in those that are long past. So enough\nof this brave and honest man, gently born also, and instructed in his\nfashion. Doubtless he died many years ago.\n\nI tire of this long, sad task; let the end of my tale be short.\n\n\nAt last, at last, came Kallikrates reborn, lacking memories, changed\nin spirit, and yet in face and form the very same. Holly brought him\nhither, or he brought Holly, because of an ancient, lying screed that\nAmenartas wrote upon a sherd, which from age to age had passed down in\nhis race, urging some descendant of her blood to find me out and slay\nme, for this Egyptian fool thought that I could be slain.\n\nHe came, and by Heaven! I knew not that he was here until the crabbed\nHolly led me to the couch whereon he lay fever-stricken and at the\nvery point of death. By my arts I dragged him back from between those\ndoors of doom, that almost once again had closed behind him, and\nafterward, revealing to him my beauty and my burning love, caused him\nto worship me. Yet, mark! He came not alone; as I feared would chance,\nsomething of Amenartas prisoned in a savage woman's breast came with\nhim, and already he was her lover.\n\nI slew that woman who was obstinate and would not leave him; though\nthe deed grieved me, I slew her because I must. It mattered little,\nfor soon she was forgot, and I held him fast.\n\nOf the rest little need be said, for Holly knows it all and tells me\nthat he has written it in a book. Because I might not wed with mortal\nman I led Kallikrates, he who now was known as Leo, down the perilous\nways to that hid cavern where ever the bright Spirit of Life, clad in\nflame and thunder, marches on his endless round. Behold! as it had\nbeen over two thousand years before, so it was now. Again Kallikrates\nfeared to enter the flames and, putting on majesty, to become undying\nking of all the world. Aye, even though the prize of my glory lay to\nhis hand, his flesh shrank from the Fire.\n\nTherefore that he might learn courage, once more I gave myself to the\nembrace of the god, and lo! this time he slew me. Yes, in utter shame\nand hideousness before my lover's eyes, there I died, or rather seemed\nto die; an ancient, shrivelled, ape-like thing. Yet dying, my\nunconquerable spirit gave me strength to mutter in his ear that I\nshould come again and once more be beautiful.\n\nNay, I did not die. Far away again I became incarnate in this distant\nAsian land, which after all is my own, since in a part of it first I\nsaw the light. Here in this cavern-monastery where still lingers some\nshadow of the worship of the moon and of the great Principle that in\nthe old days was named Isis, Queen of Heaven, once more I was clothed\nwith mortal flesh.\n\nThe years went by, but two or three of them, and I found the power to\nsearch out Kallikrates, or Leo Vincey, still living on the earth, and\nin a vision showed him the mountains that I inhabit. He was faithful.\nYes, like Holly he was faithful, and together they followed that\nvision. For twice ten years they searched, and then at last they found\nme. They passed the perils and the tests; Kallikrates, or Leo Vincey,\nescaped the web spun by the Queen Atene, she in whom Amenartas once\nmore shows herself upon the earth. They endured the appointed trials.\nAye, when I unveiled before him on the mountain peak, my Love, my\neternal Love, my doom and my desire, found strength and faith to kiss\nmy hideous, withered brow. Then was that faith rewarded. Then before\nhis very eyes I changed into the flower of all beauty, into the glory\nof all power, and he worshipped, worshipped, worshipped!\n\n\nNow soon we shall be wed. Now soon the curse shall fall from us, like\nto a severed chain. Now soon my sin will be forgiven, and side by side\nwe shall tread the endless path of splendour, no longer two but one,\nthat path which leads through perfect joy--oh! whither does it lead?\nEven to-day I know not.\n\nBut this cannot be yet awhile. First he must bathe him in the Fire,\nsince mortal man may not mix with my immortality and live as man. For\nwhile this world endures--have I not said it?--I who have drunk of the\nvery Cup of its Spirit, aye, twice drunk deep, must also endure, and I\nthink the world is still far away from the gates of Death. Aye, though\nI change a thousand times, still I shall be the same in other shapes,\nand though I seem to vanish, yet I must appear again.\n\nWhere I go, also, thither Kallikrates must follow me, or I must follow\nhim, since he and I are one, and on me is laid the burden of the\nuplifting of the soul of him whose body once I slew.\n\nAnd yet, and yet--oh! he is still human and death dogs the heels of\nman. As I write a horror seizes me. Aye, my hand trembles on the\nscroll and my spirit quakes. What if some chance, some sickness, some\nfate should strike him down, leaving me once more desolate and\ndivorced, so that elsewhere all this dark tragedy must be played\nafresh?\n\nAway with that hell-born thought! There are no gods and, Fate, I defy\nthee who am myself a Fate and thine equal. I will conquer thee, O\nFate; thou shalt not conquer me. There is naught but that eternal Good\nwhereof the fiery tongue which was the soul of Noot spoke, or seemed\nto speak, to me in my haunted sleep at K\u00f4r, and to that Good I,\nAyesha, make my prayer.\n\nLo! I have suffered. Lo! I have paid the count to its last coin. Lo! I\nhave endured. Through the long ages I have sown in tears, and my hour\nof harvest is at hand; aye, the night of sorrow dies, and already on\nthe peak of heavenly Peace shines the dawn of joy. ... My lord hunts\nupon the mountain after the fashion of men, and I brood within the\ncaves after the fashion of women. ...\n\n\"... Holly, Holly! Awake! Look yonder! What is this? I seem to see my\nlord struggling on the snow and the spotted beast has him by the\nthroat-- ...\"\n\n\n_Here ends Ayesha's manuscript. Its last words are almost illegible\nand are written by one whose agitation was evidently great; indeed\ntheir appearance suggests that they were set down in some\nhalf-automatic fashion while the writer's mind was occupied with other\nmatters. With them Ayesha ends her tale of which in outline the rest\nis to be found elsewhere--in the book that is named after her.\nSuddenly she appears to have tired of her task. Perhaps, heralded and\ninduced by the incident of the snow-leopard that went near to ending\nthe life of Leo Vincey, the presage of terrible woes to come, to which\nshe alludes and not obscurely, paralyzed Ayesha's mind or filled it\nwith forebodings that rendered her incapable of further effort of the\nkind, or at least unwilling to endure its labour, of which, it is\nclear, already she was wearying._\n\n                                                        Editor.\n\n[The End]\n\nTRANSCRIBER'S NOTES\n\nAlterations to the text:\n\nVarious punctuation fixes.\n\nChange several instances of _heiroglyph_ to _hieroglyph_, _heirophant_\nto _hierophant_, and _Khaemuas_ to _Kh\u00e6muas_. Change (Chap. I) \"The\n_Pathian_ looked around...\" to _Paphian_, (Chap. V) \"him of Ozal in\n_Yamen_...\" to _Yaman_, and a few other spelling corrections.\n\n[End of Book]","title":"Wisdom's Daughter: The Life and Love Story of She-Who-Must-be-Obeyed","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":116443}