Hatsu: A Story of Egypt

by Laura Dayton Fessenden

When the storm was over, Israel went out of Egypt, and Tothmes the Third (a wiser and a better man for this awful visitation) began with speed to renew, rebuild, and re-create Egypt, to a higher place among the nations of the earth.

For centuries it was believed, by the most learned, that on that fateful night, Hatsu, Alric and Zelas were carried by Osirus, into his own kingdom, for no mortal eye ever beheld them more, living or dead; neither did any see them depart. * * *

In Syria there dwelt, for many years, a wise man. He came from none knew whither, and as he was great in sorcery, none dared provoke his wrath by questionings. He left naught upon his death, but a scroll on which were written characters so strange that none could find their meaning. So the baffled scholars of each generation bequeathed it to the next and thus the scroll was treasured through much time, until at last, one was born, who said: “I can read what is written therein,” and when he read the wise men of his day laughed him to scorn, and cried out that he was mad. “To think,” they said, “that the world has been treasuring this scroll for centuries, only to be rewarded with what is at best an unfinished and impossible love tale.”

Here is what the scholar found written upon the parchment:

CHAPTER IX.

“The shadows of life are gathering thick and fast, and my long day on earth is drawing to its close, and I fain would write, ere it be too late, that which the world should know from me, when the time is ripe for its revealing.

“On the night of the fulfillment of the last curse, as the Queen and I stood by the bed whereon lay my dead child, and while the all unconscious mother, Miriam, strove to comfort the Queen, Hatsu and I were summoned to attend upon Zelas the High Priest. The place to which he called us was a subterranean grotto, under the great Sphinx, a secret retreat known to but a few in all the kingdom, and where had been long established that which was called, by the initiated, ‘the chamber of perfect peace.’ This place was so hidden away by a labyrinth of stairs and passages that, without the key to its winding ways, he who entered would be hopelessly lost. This ‘chamber of rest’ was hewn out of solid rock, and held two cradles, in which through many generations a chosen number of the greatest and the best had been rocked to a final sleep. It was a mad night. Egypt in all her history had known no such warring of the elements, but the Queen and I, heedless of all else, but the bidding of Zelas, made our way out of the palace, and through the plague-ridden city. None marked us, as we hurried on. Like two children, hand in hand, we walked, a speechless pair, but true companions in adversity, until we came at length, to the appointed place. Then it was that the Princess spoke to me. ‘The storm is fast spending itself,’ she said slowly. ‘On the morrow the sky will be blue again, and the sun will shine. Israel will depart, and Egypt will lift up her bowed head, and Tothmes, my brother, will reign. It is my will that thou, follow me to the end, that, as I close my eyes, in a last sleep, I may see thy face; for, in spite of warrior fame, in spite of prowess in the chase, I carry a woman’s heart, and thou alone have had an altar there! Nay, let me tell thee more, I had rather have lived my lonely empty life, with just the dream of what it could have been, as thine honored wife, than to have been given, any other portion, however blessed.’

“My soul was stirred by this tenderness. ‘Great Queen,’ I made answer, ‘why must we enter here? the night is dark, and in its gloom, we will leave the city; then in some safe retreat, and under names unknown, we will begin a life of happiness that shall be but the foretaste of innumerable re-unitings in the progression from world to world.’ She shook her head sadly, ‘Nay,’ she said, ‘not now, not now, my plane is higher than thine, and I can not stoop to thee, much and fondly though I love thee; when we can meet as soul equals, we shall not part, believe me, and so good-bye, and know in some beyond of time, we shall meet and understand, now come.’

“Guided by the Princess, we wended our way to one of the claws of the great sphinx. There, she knelt down, and said some mystic words. A stone slid noiselessly aside, and we entered the opening and found ourselves in a long corridor. The air was pure and sweet, aye, even fragrant, as though perfumed with growing flowers, lights glimmered along the walls, lights created by a subtle power in nature known only to the most learned. With the ease of one who treads a frequented way, the Queen led me, until we came to a door, that opened as the other had done at her bidding, and we stood inside a brilliantly lighted hall, at whose farther end (and built out into the room,) was that which seemed to be a white tomb, with a grated entrance gate. No one was in sight, and the Queen, bidding me be seated and await her further orders, turned into one of the arched door-ways, and disappeared.