He took no heed of the priest, but looked straight at the woman, throwing into his gaze that strange, almost mystic attraction which I myself had so often felt. After a while we heard like a soft sigh, an appealing whisper, a woman’s voice repeating:
“Who art thou?”
“The wandering soul of Khefren, come back to Kamt to claim his own again.”
“Khefren?”
“Far out, oh, Queen, beyond the valley of death, where flows the sacred river, by whose shores thy ancestors were born and were great, Khefren left a record of his glory and his might, and to-day, after five thousand times the seasons of the year have been and have gone again, Osiris sent his soul back into my body that I, too, might bring glory and might to the beloved land.”
“And this?” she asked, pointing to where I, puzzled, amused and humble, stood waiting to know what my share in this wonderful drama was to be.
“He is my second self,” said Hugh, “placed by my side by Ra himself, to love, to counsel and to protect.”
The Queen raised herself from her litter, and placing her tiny sandalled feet upon the marble floor she walked slowly but unhesitatingly towards Hugh. She certainly was exceedingly beautiful, tall above the average, with queenly bearing, magnificent eyes, and rich, voluptuous figure: but somehow, as she walked, with the shimmering folds of her black gown clinging tightly round her, she reminded me of the two grim guardians at the gates of Kamt, up there beyond the granite halls, and I did not envy Hugh his luck. Immediately in front of us stood the sacrificial altar, on which the lamb had been offered up to Ra with such astonishing results, and on it was the casket with which the Queen had tried to win over the high priest to her views. She skirted the altar, and coming close to Hugh, she knelt down at his feet, and looking up at him, she said:
“The will of Ra be accomplished upon thy servant;” and she added, turning to the high priest: “The sacrifice thou hast offered for me to the gods has brought me peace and happiness. Command the slaves of the temple to bring forth the oxen, laden with the gifts which I, in my gratitude, do offer thee.”
It was impossible to conjecture what the thoughts of the solemn and learned Ur-tasen were during this brief scene. Superstition struggled vigorously with reason beneath that shaven crown of his; greed too, I thought, played an important part in the workings of his conscience. He certainly was more than puzzled as to how we had got into the inner sanctuary, while our fair skins obviously disclaimed any idea that we were natives of his own country. How much he knew of the existence of a great world beyond the wilderness and outside the gates of Kamt, I only found out afterwards; for the moment superstition, after a brief struggle, obtained the upper hand, and after a few seconds of terribly anxious suspense, I saw that the high priest of Ra was prepared, at any rate outwardly, to accept the stranger as the emissary of the gods, which he had proclaimed himself to be. Silently he dropped the gossamer curtain, which closed in with a soft rustle behind us, making a shimmering background for Hugh’s tall figure, with the beautiful woman kneeling at his feet.