Part 36 (1/2)
She saw me in my battered mail and the blood flowed up to her breast and brow and in her eyes there came a light such as I had never known in them before, the light that is lit only by the torch of woman's love.
Yes, no longer were hers the eyes of a priestess; they were the eyes of a woman who burns with mortal pa.s.sion.
”Amada,” I whispered, ”Amada found at last.”
”Shabaka,” she whispered back, ”returned at last, to me, your home,” and she stretched out her arms toward me.
But before I could take her into mine, she uttered a little cry and shrank away.
”Oh! not here,” she said, ”not here in the presence of this Holy One who watches all that pa.s.ses in heaven and earth.”
”Then perchance, Amada, she has watched the freeing of Egypt on yonder field to-day, and knows for whose sake it was done.”
”Hearken, Shabaka. I am your guerdon. Moreover as a woman I am yours.
There is naught I desire so much as to feel your kiss upon me. For it and it alone I am ready to risk my spirit's death and torment. But for you I fear. Twice have I sworn myself to this G.o.ddess and she is very jealous of those who rob her of her votaries. I fear that her curse will fall not only on me, but on you also, and not only for this life but for all lives that may be given to us. For your own sake, I pray you leave me. I hear that Pharaoh my uncle is dead or dying, and doubtless they will offer you the throne. Take it, Shabaka, for in it I ask no share.
Take it and leave me to serve the G.o.ddess till my death.”
”I too serve a G.o.ddess,” I answered hoa.r.s.ely, ”and she is named Love, and you are her priestess. Little I care for Isis who serve the G.o.ddess Love. Come, kiss me here and now, ere perchance I die. Kiss me who have waited long enough, and so let us be wed.”
One moment she paused, swaying in the wind of pa.s.sion, like a tall reed on the banks of Nile, and then, ah! then she sank upon my breast and pressed her lips against my own.
AND AFTER
For a few moments I, Shabaka, seemed to be lost in a kind of delirium and surrounded by a rose-hued mist. Then I, Allan Quatermain, heard a sharp quick sound as of a clock striking, and looked up. It was a lock, a beautiful old clock on a mantelpiece opposite to me and the hands showed that it had just struck the hour of ten.
Now I remembered that centuries ago, as I was dropping asleep, I did not know why, I had seen that clock and those hands in the same position and known that it was striking the second stroke of ten. Oh! what did it all mean? Had thousands of years gone by or--only eight seconds?
There was a weight upon my shoulder. I glanced round to see what it was and discovered the beautiful head of Lady Ragnall who was sweetly sleeping there. Lady Ragnall! and in that very strange dream which I had dreamed she was the priestess called Amada. Look, there was the mark of the new moon above her breast. And not a second ago I had been in a shrine with Amada dressed as Lady Ragnall was to-night, in circ.u.mstances so intimate that it made me blush to think of them. Lady Ragnall!
Amada!--Amada! Lady Ragnall! A shrine! A boudoir! Oh! I must be going mad!
I could not disturb her, it would have been--well, unseemly. So I, Shabaka, or Allan Quatermain, just sat still feeling curiously comfortable, and tried to piece things together, when suddenly Amada--I mean Lady Ragnall woke.
”I wonder,” she said without lifting her head from my shoulder, ”what happened to the holy Tanofir. I think that I heard him outside the s.h.i.+ne giving directions for the digging of Pharaoh's grave at that spot, and saying that he must do so at once as his time was very short. Yes, and I wished that he would go away. Oh! my goodness!” she exclaimed, and suddenly sprang up.
I too rose and we stood facing each other.
Between us, in front of the fire stood the tripod and the bowl of black stone at the bottom of which lay a pinch of white ashes, the remains of the _Taduki_. We stared at it and at each other.
”Oh! where have we been, Shaba--I mean, Mr. Quatermain?” she gasped, looking at me round-eyed.
”I don't know,” I answered confusedly. ”To the East I suppose. That is--it was all a dream.”
”A dream!” she said. ”What nonsense! Tell me, were you or were you not in a sanctuary just now with me before the statue of Isis, the same that fell on George two years ago and killed him, and did you or did you not give me a necklace of wonderful rosy pearls which we put upon the neck of the statue as a peace-offering because I had broken my vows to the G.o.ddess--those that you won from the Great King?”
”No,” I answered triumphantly, ”I did nothing of the sort. Is it likely that I should have taken those priceless pearls into battle? I gave them to Karema to keep after my mother returned them to me on her death-bed; I remember it distinctly.”
”Yes, and Karema handed them to me again as your love-token when she appeared in the city with the holy Tanofir, and what was more welcome at the moment--something to eat. For we were near starving, you know. Well, I threw them over your neck and my own in the shrine to be the symbol of our eternal union. But afterwards we thought that it might be wise to offer them to the G.o.ddess--to appease her, you know. Oh! how dared we plight our mortal troth there in her very shrine and presence, and I her twice-sworn servant? It was insult heaped on sacrilege.”
”At a guess, because love is stronger than fear,” I replied. ”But it seems that you dreamed a little longer than I did. So perhaps you can tell me what happened afterwards. I only got as far as--well, I forget how far I got,” I added, for at that moment full memory returned and I could not go on.