Smith and the Pharaohs, and other Tales — John Shaqi
Smith and the Pharaohs, and other TalesHaggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
General
Smith and the Pharaohs, and other Tales
Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Adventure stories, English; Fantasy fiction, English; Short stories, English
He heard them at their business above him. There were trampings and a
sound as though something heavy were being laid on the deck, such, for
instance, as must have been made when the mummy of Pharaoh was set
there for its last journey to the western bank of the Nile. Yes, and
now he could have sworn again that the priestly crew were getting out
the oars.
Smith began to meditate flight from the neighbourhood of that place when
something occurred which determined him to stop where he was.
The huge hall was growing light, but not, as at first he hoped, with the
rays of dawn. This light was pale and ghostly, though very penetrating.
Also it had a blue tinge, unlike any other he had ever seen. At first
it arose in a kind of fan or fountain at the far end of the hall,
illumining the steps there and the two noble colossi which sat above.
But what was this that stood at the head of the steps, radiating glory?
By heavens! it was Osiris himself or the image of Osiris, god of the
Dead, the Egyptian saviour of the world!
There he stood, in his mummy-cloths, wearing the feathered crown, and
holding in his hands, which projected from an opening in the wrappings,
the crook and the scourge of power. Was he alive, or was he dead? Smith
could not tell, since he never moved, only stood there, splendid and
fearful, his calm, benignant face staring into nothingness.
Smith became aware that the darkness between him and the vision of this
god was peopled; that a great congregation was gathering, or had
gathered there. The blue light began to grow; long tongues of it shot
forward, which joined themselves together, illumining all that huge
hall.
Now, too, he saw the congregation. Before him, rank upon rank of them,
stood the kings and queens of Egypt. As though at a given signal, they
bowed themselves to the Osiris, and ere the tinkling of their ornaments
had died away, lo! Osiris was gone. But in his place stood another,
Isis, the Mother of Mystery, her deep eyes looking forth from beneath
the jewelled vulture-cap. Again the congregation bowed, and, lo! she
was gone. But in her place stood yet another, a radiant, lovely being,
who held in her hand the Sign of Life, and wore upon her head the
symbol of the shining disc—Hathor, Goddess of Love. A third time the
congregation bowed, and she, too, was gone; nor did any other appear in
her place.
The Pharaohs and their queens began to move about and speak to each
other; their voices came to his ears in one low, sweet murmur.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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