The Mummy! A Tale of the Twenty-Second CenturyLoudon, Mrs. (Jane)
Science
The Mummy! A Tale of the Twenty-Second Century
Loudon, Mrs. (Jane)
Feminist fiction; Science fiction; Twenty-second century -- Fiction
All was silent, save the whispered voice of the Spanish general, the
heavy breathing of Lord Arthur, and the measured steps of the sentinel,
as he paced his weary round. Edric listened till he grew tired of the
same sounds falling uninterruptedly upon his ear, and turning on his
couch, tried to divert his attention by gazing upon the objects before
him. The strong light from the lamp placed upon the table, fell upon
the fine features of Alexis, as he looked up to the Spaniard; and
Edric thought, as he gazed upon them, that he had certainly seen those
features before, though where he could not remember; and fatigued
with the effort of trying to recollect, he turned to survey the noble
Roderick, as he lay gracefully stretched upon his couch. One arm was
raised above his pillow, and the other fell carelessly by his side,
whilst the fine contour of his head and neck was fully displayed, the
rich, thick, glossy curls that generally hid his forehead being thrown
back. His coral lips were half open, and his long black eyelashes
fringed his closed eyelids; whilst his dark whiskers and mustachios,
with the rich brown tint that glowed upon his cheek, contrasted finely
with the whiteness of his throat. "God bless him!" thought Edric, "and
send him all the happiness he deserves!" And then seeming fearful to
disturb him, he looked again towards the town. The curtain of the tent
was partly looped up, and Edric watched, with interest, the lights of
those still employed in their several duties of burying the dead, and
relieving the wounded. The figures of the persons engaged in these
painful duties were frequently imperceptible; and the lights gliding to
and fro, apparently without any human means, looked like ignes fatui,
or an assemblage of ghosts at their infernal revels.
Edric sighed as he surveyed them, and: his thoughts flew back, he knew
not by what connection of ideas, to his native land. He thought of his
father, his brother--of the good old Duke of Cornwall--of Rosabella and
Elvira, till, one by one, the lights appeared to die away; the images
that floated before his fancy became gradually fainter and fainter;
his thoughts more confused: the scene before him faded rapidly from
his sight, and, in short, he was fast sinking into repose, when he was
roused by a slight sound, and looking up, saw the Spanish general and
the Greek page standing by his bed-side.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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