The Yoke: A Romance of the Days when the Lord Redeemed the Children of Israel from the Bondage of Egypt — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
The Yoke: A Romance of the Days when the Lord Redeemed the Children of Israel from the Bondage of Egypt
John Stuart Mill · en
Within the overarching portals he was met by a novice, a priest of the
lowest orders, to whom he stated his mission. With a sign to the young
man to follow, the priest passed through the porch into the inner court
of the temple. This was simply an immense roofless chamber. Its sides
were the outer walls of the temple proper, reinforced by stupendous
pilasters and elaborated with much bas-relief and many intaglios. The
ends were formed by the inner pylons of the porch and outer pylons of
the main temple. The latter were guarded by colossal divinities. Down
the center of the court was a second aisle of sphinxes. They had
entered this when the priest, with a startled exclamation, sprang
behind one of the recumbent monsters in time to avoid the frolicsome
salutation of an ape.
"Anubis! Mut, the Mother of Darkness, lends you her cloak! Out!"
Kenkenes cried, striking at his pet. The wary animal eluded the blow
and for a moment revolved about another sphinx, pursued by his master,
and then fled like a phantom out of the court by the path he came. By
this time the priest had emerged from his refuge and was attempting to
prevent the young man's interference with the will of the ape.
"Nay, nay; I am sorry!" the priest exclaimed as Anubis disappeared.
"It is an omen. Toth[2] visiteth Ptah; Wisdom seeketh Power! Came he
by divine summons or did he seek the great god? It is a problem for
the sorcerers and is of ominous import!"
"The pestiferous creature followed me unseen from the house," Kenkenes
explained, rather flushed of countenance. "To me it is an omen that
the idler who keeps the gate is not vigilant."
The priest shook his head and led the way without further words into
the temple. Here the young sculptor was conducted through a wilderness
of jacketed columns, over pavements that rang even under sandaled feet,
to the center of a vast hall. The priest left him and disappeared
through the all-enveloping twilight into the more sacred part of the
temple.
In a moment, Asar-Mut, high priest to Ptah, appeared, approaching
through the dusk. He wore the priestly habiliments of spotless linen,
and, like a loose mantle, a magnificent leopard-skin, which hung by a
claw over the right shoulder and, passing under the left arm, was
fastened at the breast by a medallion of gold and topaz. He was a
typical Egyptian, but thinner of lip and severer of countenance than
the laity. The wooden dolls tumbled about by the children of the realm
were not more hairless than he. His high, narrow head was ghastly in
its utter nakedness.
Kenkenes bent reverently before him and was greeted kindly by the
pontiff.
"Hast thou guessed why I sent for thee?" he asked at once.
"I have guessed," Kenkenes replied, "but it may be wildly."
"Let us see. I would have thee carry a message for the brotherhood."
Kenkenes inclined his head.