Menes took the effigy in his hand and read the cartouche that was engraved beneath its breast.
“If there be here among us,” he said, presently, “one who long after my day ruled as queen in Egypt, one who was named Ma-Mé, let her draw near.”
Now from where she stood glided Ma-Mee and took her place opposite to Smith.
“Say, O Queen,” asked Menes, “do you know aught of this matter?”
“I know that hand; it was my own hand,” she answered. “I know that ring; it was my ring. I know that image in bronze; it was my image. Look on me and judge for yourselves whether this be so. A certain sculptor fashioned it, the son of a king’s son, who was named Horu, the first of sculptors and the head artist of my Court. There, clad in strange garments, he stands before you. Horu, or the Double of Horu, he who cut the image when I ruled in Egypt, is he who found the image and the man who stands before you; or, mayhap, his Double cast in the same mould.”
The Pharaoh Menes turned to the magician Khaemuas and said:—
“Are these things so, O Seer?”
“They are so,” answered Khaemuas. “This dweller on the earth is he who, long ago, was the sculptor Horu. But what shall that avail? He, once more a living man, is a violator of the hallowed dead. I say, therefore, that judgment should be executed on his flesh, so that when the light comes here to-morrow he himself will again be gathered to the dead.”
Menes bent his head upon his breast and pondered. Smith said nothing. To him the whole play was so curious that he had no wish to interfere with its development. If these ghosts wished to make him of their number, let them do so. He had no ties on earth, and now when he knew full surely that there was a life beyond this of earth he was quite prepared to explore its mysteries. So he folded his arms upon his breast and awaited the sentence.
But Ma-Mee did not wait. She raised her hand so swiftly that the bracelets jingled on her wrists, and spoke out with boldness.