An instinct, which I could not have accounted for at the time, prompted me not to run after him, nor to shout, but to follow him quietly and see what he would do.
Keeping well within the shadows, I retraced my steps, and once more found myself at the foot of the temple, just in time to see the Pharaoh disappearing up above me, somewhere among the pillars.
I could not imagine that he had chosen this evening hour in order to perform some tardy act of devotion, and a little anxious about his safety now, I followed up the massive stairs.
I had completely lost sight of the sick man, and having reached the last of the marble steps I peered round eagerly between the pillars. The façade of the temple was silent, dark and deserted. Immediately in front of me was the ponderous gateway, built of marble tracery, which opened into the sacred edifice. It was closed, but I went up to it, and through the tracery saw the interior of the building. The main body of the temple was dimly lighted by a single hanging lamp, which threw an uncertain, flickering light on floor and pillars; at the farther end hung the usual heavy, semi-transparent curtain which hid the inner sanctuary of the goddess. This being brilliantly illuminated, the curtain formed a kind of shimmering wall, against which I saw suddenly silhouetted the figure of the Pharaoh not far from me, and that of a woman, Queen Maat-kha, by his side.
I could not see into the dark corners of the temple, but, as far as I could ascertain, the rest of the building was deserted and the royal bride-elect was unattended. The Pharaoh had evidently just finished speaking, for he was leaning exhausted against one of the pillars: he looked so very cadaverous and ill that I was seriously anxious for him, and at the risk of interrupting a private conclave between mother and son, I tried to get to him, but the marble gateway was closed. After the manner peculiar to Egyptian architects, it had been made to work with a secret spring, by which a child could set it in motion if he knew its working, but which the strongest man in the world, if he were ignorant, could not even shake; and I, of course, had no idea where and how that secret spring worked.
Suddenly I heard Queen Maat-kha’s voice:
“Was it to tell me all this, oh, my son,” she said, “that thou didst come, like a snake in the night, to pour thy poison into my ear, even while I worshipped at Isis’s shrine?”
He laughed his usual sarcastic laugh.
“My poison?” he retorted. “Nay! sweet mother, that potion which thou must drink to the full is none of my mixing. Already thou didst taste a few of its bitter drops; I but add the last thought of deadly aconite to make it more unpalatable still.”
“And art satisfied?” she asked quietly.