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  INTRODUCTION

  In the recesses of the desolate Libyan mountains that lie behind thetemple and city of Abydus, the supposed burying place of the holyOsiris, a tomb was recently discovered, among the contents of which werethe papyrus rolls whereupon this history is written. The tomb itself isspacious, but otherwise remarkable only for the depth of the shaft whichdescends vertically from the rock-hewn cave, that once served as themortuary chapel for the friends and relatives of the departed, to thecoffin-chamber beneath. This shaft is no less than eighty-nine feet indepth. The chamber at its foot was found to contain three coffins only,though it is large enough for many more. Two of these, which in allprobability inclosed the bodies of the High Priest, Amenemhat, and ofhis wife, father and mother of Harmachis, the hero of this history, theshameless Arabs who discovered them there and then broke up.

  The Arabs broke the bodies up. With unhallowed hands they tore the holyAmenemhat and the frame of her who had, as it is written, been filledwith the spirit of the Hathors--tore them limb from limb, searching fortreasure amidst their bones--perhaps, as is their custom, selling thevery bones for a few piastres to the last ignorant tourist who cametheir way, seeking what he might destroy. For in Egypt the unhappy, theliving find their bread in the tombs of the great men who were beforethem.

  But as it chanced, some little while afterwards, one who is known tothis writer, and a doctor by profession, passed up the Nile to Abydus,and became acquainted with the men who had done this thing. Theyrevealed to him the secret of the place, telling him that one coffinyet remained entombed. It seemed to be the coffin of a poor person,they said, and therefore, being pressed for time, they had left itunviolated. Moved by curiosity to explore the recesses of a tomb as yetunprofaned by tourists, my friend bribed the Arabs to show it to him.What ensued I will give in his own words, exactly as he wrote it to me:

  "I slept that night near the Temple of Seti, and started before daybreakon the following morning. With me were a cross-eyed rascal namedAli--Ali Baba I named him--the man from whom I got the ring which I amsending you, and a small but choice assortment of his fellow thieves.Within an hour after sunrise we reached the valley where the tomb is. Itis a desolate place, into which the sun pours his scorching heat allthe long day through, till the huge brown rocks which are strewn aboutbecome so hot that one can scarcely bear to touch them, and the sandscorches the feet. It was already too hot to walk, so we rode ondonkeys, some way up the valley--where a vulture floating far in theblue overhead was the only other visitor--till we came to an enormousboulder polished by centuries of action of sun and sand. Here Alihalted, saying that the tomb was under the stone. Accordingly, wedismounted, and, leaving the donkeys in charge of a fellah boy, went upto the rock. Beneath it was a small hole, barely large enough for a manto creep through. Indeed it had been dug by jackals, for the doorway andsome part of the cave were entirely silted up, and it was by means ofthis jackal hole that the tomb had been discovered. Ali crept in on hishands and knees, and I followed, to find myself in a place cold afterthe hot outside air, and, in contrast with the light, filled with adazzling darkness. We lit our candles, and, the select body of thieveshaving arrived, I made an examination. We were in a cave the size ofa large room, and hollowed by hand, the further part of the cave beingalmost free from drift-dust. On the walls are religious paintings of theusual Ptolemaic character, and among them one of a majestic old man witha long white beard, who is seated in a carved chair holding a wand inhis hand.[*] Before him passes a procession of priests bearing sacredimages. In the right hand corner of the tomb is the shaft of themummy-pit, a square-mouthed well cut in the black rock. We had brought abeam of thorn-wood, and this was now laid across the pit and a ropemade fast to it. Then Ali--who, to do him justice, is a courageousthief--took hold of the rope, and, putting some candles into the breastof his robe, placed his bare feet against the smooth sides of the welland began to descent with great rapidity. Very soon he had vanished intoblackness, and the agitation of the cord alone told us that anything wasgoing on below. At last the rope ceased shaking and a faint shout camerumbling up the well, announcing Ali's safe arrival. Then, far below, atiny star of light appeared. He had lit the candle, thereby disturbinghundreds of bats that flitted up in an endless stream and as silently asspirits. The rope was hauled up again, and now it was my turn; but, asI declined to trust my neck to the hand-over-hand method of descent, theend of the cord was made fast round my middle and I was lowered bodilyinto those sacred depths. Nor was it a pleasant journey, for, if themasters of the situation above had made any mistake, I should have beendashed to pieces. Also, the bats continually flew into my face and clungto my hair, and I have a great dislike of bats. At last, after someminutes of jerking and dangling, I found myself standing in anarrow passage by the side of the worthy Ali, covered with bats andperspiration, and with the skin rubbed off my knees and knuckles. Thenanother man came down, hand over hand like a sailor, and as the restwere told to stop above we were ready to go on. Ali went first withhis candle--of course we each had a candle--leading the way down a longpassage about five feet high. At length the passage widened out, and wewere in the tomb-chamber: I think the hottest and most silent place thatI ever entered. It was simply stifling. This chamber is a square roomcut in the rock and totally devoid of paintings or sculpture. I heldup the candles and looked round. About the place were strewn the coffinlids and the mummied remains of the two bodies that the Arabs hadpreviously violated. The paintings on the former were, I noticed, ofgreat beauty, though, having no knowledge of hieroglyphics, I could notdecipher them. Beads and spicy wrappings lay around the remains, which,I saw, were those of a man and a woman.[+] The head had been broken offthe body of the man. I took it up and looked at it. It had been closelyshaved--after death, I should say, from the general indications--and thefeatures were disfigured with gold leaf. But notwithstanding this,and the shrinkage of the flesh, I think the face was one of the mostimposing and beautiful that I ever saw. It was that of a very old man,and his dead countenance still wore so calm and solemn, indeed, so awfula look, that I grew quite superstitious (though as you know, I am prettywell accustomed to dead people), and put the head down in a hurry. Therewere still some wrappings left upon the face of the second body, and Idid not remove them; but she must have been a fine large woman in herday.

  [*] This, I take it, is a portrait of Amenemhat himself.-- Editor.

  [+] Doubtless Amenemhat and his wife.--Editor.

  "'There the other mummy,' said Ali, pointing to a large and solid casethat seemed to have been carelessly thrown down in a corner, for it waslying on its side.

  "I went up to it and carefully examined it. It was well made, but ofperfectly plain cedar-wood--not an inscription, not a solitary God onit.

  "'Never see one like him before,' said Ali. 'Bury great hurry, he no"mafish," no "fineesh." Throw him down here on side.'

  "I looked at the plain case till at last my interest was thoroughlyaroused. I was so shocked by the sight of the scattered dust ofthe departed that I had made up my mind not to touch the remainingcoffin--but now my curiosity overcame me, and we set to work.

  "Ali had brought a mallet and a cold chisel with him, and, havingset the coffin straight, he began upon it with all the zeal of anexperienced tomb-breaker. And then he pointed out another thing. Mostmummy-cases are fastened by four little tongues of wood, two on eitherside, which are fixed in the upper half, and, passing into mortices cutto receive them in the thickness of the lower half, are there heldfast by pegs of hard wood. But this mummy case had eight such tongues.Evidently it had been thought well to secure it firmly. At last, withgreat difficulty, we raised the massive lid, which was nearly threeinches thick, and there, covered over with a deep layer of loose spices(a very unusual thing), was the body.

  "Ali looked at it with open eyes--and no wonder. For this mummy was notas other mummies are. Mummies in general lie upon their backs, as stiffand calm as though they were cut from wood; but this mummy lay upo
n itsside, and, the wrappings notwithstanding, its knees were slightly bent.More than that, indeed, the gold mask, which, after the fashion of thePtolemaic period, had been set upon the face, had worked down, and wasliterally pounded up beneath the hooded head.

  "It was impossible, seeing these things, to avoid the conclusion thatthe mummy before us had moved with violence _since it was put in thecoffin_.

  "'Him very funny mummy. Him not "mafish" when him go in there,' saidAli.

  "'Nonsense!' I said. 'Who ever heard of a live mummy?'

  "We lifted the body out of the coffin, nearly choking ourselves withmummy dust in the process, and there beneath it half hidden among thespices, we made our first find. It was a roll of papyrus, carelesslyfastened and wrapped in a piece of mummy cloth, having to all appearancebeen thrown into the coffin at the moment of closing.[*]

  [*] This roll contained the third unfinished book of the history. The other two rolls were neatly fastened in the usual fashion. All three are written by one hand in the Demotic character.--Editor.

  "Ali eyed the papyrus greedily, but I seized it and put it in my pocket,for it was agreed that I was to have all that might be discovered.Then we began to unwrap the body. It was covered with very broad strongbandages, thickly wound and roughly tied, sometimes by means of simpleknots, the whole working the appearance of having been executed ingreat haste and with difficulty. Just over the head was a large lump.Presently, the bandages covering it were off, and there, on the face,lay a second roll of papyrus. I put down my hand to lift it, but itwould not come away. It appeared to be fixed to the stout seamlessshroud which was drawn over the whole body, and tied beneath thefeet--as a farmer ties sacks. This shroud, which was also thickly waxed,was in one piece, being made to fit the form like a garment. I took acandle and examined the roll and then I saw why it was fast. The spiceshad congealed and glued it to the sack-like shroud. It was impossible toget it away without tearing the outer sheets of papyrus.[*]

  [*] This accounts for the gaps in the last sheets of the second roll. --Editor.

  "At last, however, I wrenched it loose and put it with the other in mypocket.

  "Then we went on with our dreadful task in silence. With much care weripped loose the sack-like garment, and at last the body of a man laybefore us. Between his knees was a third roll of papyrus. I secured it,then held down the light and looked at him. One glance at his face wasenough to tell a doctor how he had died.

  "This body was not much dried up. Evidently it had not passed theallotted seventy days in natron, and therefore the expression andlikeness were better preserved than is usual. Without entering intoparticulars, I will only say that I hope I shall never see such anotherlook as that which was frozen on this dead man's face. Even the Arabsrecoiled from it in horror and began to mutter prayers.

  "For the rest, the usual opening on the left side through which theembalmers did their work was absent; the finely-cut features were thoseof a person of middle age, although the hair was already grey, andthe frame was that of a very powerful man, the shoulders being of anextraordinary width. I had not time to examine very closely, however,for within a few seconds from its uncovering, the unembalmed body beganto crumble now that it was exposed to the action of the air. In five orsix minutes there was literally nothing left of it but a wisp of hair,the skull, and a few of the larger bones. I noticed that one of thetibiae--I forget if it was the right or the left--had been fractured andvery badly set. It must have been quite an inch shorter than the other.

  "Well, there was nothing more to find, and now that the excitement wasover, what between the heat, the exertion, and the smell of mummy dustand spices, I felt more dead than alive.

  "I am tired of writing, and this ship rolls. This letter, of course,goes overland, and I am coming by 'long sea,' but I hope to be in Londonwithin ten days after you get it. Then I will tell you of my pleasingexperiences in the course of the ascent from the tomb-chamber, and ofhow that prince of rascals, Ali Baba, and his thieves tried to frightenme into handing over the papyri, and how I worsted them. Then, too, wewill get the rolls deciphered. I expect that they only contain the usualthing, copies of the 'Book of the Dead,' but there _may_ be somethingelse in them. Needless to say, I did not narrate this little adventurein Egypt, or I should have had the Boulac Museum people on my track.Good-bye, 'Mafish Fineesh,' as Ali Baba always said."

  In due course, my friend, the writer of the letter from which I havequoted, arrived in London, and on the very next day we paid a visit toa learned acquaintance well versed in Hieroglyphics and Demotic writing.The anxiety with which we watched him skilfully damping and unfoldingone of the rolls and peering through his gold-rimmed glasses at themysterious characters may well be imagined.

  "Hum," he said, "whatever it is, this is _not_ a copy of the 'Book ofthe Dead.' By George, what's this? Cle--Cleo--Cleopatra----Why, my dearSirs, as I am a living man, this is the history of somebody who livedin the days of Cleopatra, _the_ Cleopatra, for here's Antony's name withhers! Well, there's six months' work before me here--six months, atthe very least!" And in that joyful prospect he fairly lost control ofhimself, and skipped about the room, shaking hands with us at intervals,and saying "I'll translate--I'll translate it if it kills me, andwe will publish it; and, by the living Osiris, it shall drive everyEgyptologist in Europe mad with envy! Oh, what a find! what a mostglorious find!"

  And O you whose eyes fall upon these pages, see, they have beentranslated, and they have been printed, and here they lie before you--anundiscovered land wherein you are free to travel!

  Harmachis speaks to you from his forgotten tomb. The walls of Time falldown, and, as at the lightning's leap, a picture from the past startsupon your view, framed in the darkness of the ages.

  He shows you those two Egypts which the silent pyramids looked down uponlong centuries ago--the Egypt of the Greek, the Roman, and the Ptolemy,and that other outworn Egypt of the Hierophant, hoary with years, heavywith the legends of antiquity and the memory of long-lost honours.

  He tells you how the smouldering loyalty of the land of Khem blazedup before it died, and how fiercely the old Time-consecrated Faithstruggled against the conquering tide of Change that rose, like Nile atflood, and drowned the ancient Gods of Egypt.

  Here, in his pages, you shall learn the glory of Isis the Many-shaped,the Executrix of Decrees. Here you shall make acquaintance with theshade of Cleopatra, that "Thing of Flame," whose passion-breathingbeauty shaped the destiny of Empires. Here you shall read how the soulof Charmion was slain of the sword her vengeance smithied.

  Here Harmachis, the doomed Egyptian, being about to die, salutes you whofollow on the path he trod. In the story of his broken years he shows toyou what may in its degree be the story of your own. Crying aloud fromthat dim Amenti[*] where to-day he wears out his long atoning time, hetells, in the history of his fall, the fate of him who, however sorelytried, forgets his God, his Honour, and his Country.

  [*] The Egyptian Hades or Purgatory.--Editor.

  BOOK I--THE PREPARATION OF HARMACHIS