I woke, the faint lights of dawn were creeping from the opening in theroof. Ghastly they lay upon the shadowy sculptured walls and ghastlyupon the dead face and white beard of my father, the gathered to Osiris.I started up, remembering all things, and wondering in my heart whatI should do, and as I rose I heard a faint footfall creeping down thepassage of the names of the Pharaohs.
"_La! La! La!_" mumbled a voice that I knew for the voice of the oldwife, Atoua. "Why, 'tis dark as the House of the Dead! The Holy Oneswho built this Temple loved not the blessed sun, however much theyworshipped him. Now, where's the curtain?"
Presently it was drawn, and Atoua entered, a stick in one hand and abasket in the other. Her face was somewhat more wrinkled, and her scantylocks were somewhat whiter than aforetime, but for the rest she wasas she had ever been. She stood and peered around with her sharp blackeyes, for as yet she could see nothing because of the shadows.
"Now where is he?" she muttered. "Osiris--glory to His name--send thathe has not wandered in the night, and he blind! Alack! that I could notreturn before the dark. Alack! and alack! what times have we fallen on,when the Holy High Priest and the Governor, by descent, of Abouthis, isleft with one aged crone to minister to his infirmity! O Harmachis, mypoor boy, thou hast laid trouble at our doors! Why, what's this? Surelyhe sleeps not, there upon the ground?--'twill be his death! Prince! HolyFather! Amenemhat! awake, arise!" and she hobbled towards thecorpse. "Why, how is it! By Him who sleeps, he's dead! untended andalone--_dead! dead!_" and she sent her long wail of grief ringing up thesculptured walls.
"Hush! woman, be still!" I said, gliding from the shadows.
"Look on me, Atoua," I cried.
"Look! ay, I look--thou wicked wanderer who hast dared this cruel deed!Harmachis is a traitor and lost far away, and Amenemhat his holy fatheris murdered, and now I'm all alone without kith or kin. I gave them forhim. I gave them for Harmachis, the traitor! Come, slay me also, thouwicked one!"
I took a step toward her, and she, thinking that I was about to smiteher, cried out in fear:
"Nay, good Sir, spare me! Eighty and six, by the Holy Ones, eighty andsix, come next flood of Nile, and yet I would not die, though Osiris ismerciful to the old who served him! Come no nearer--help! help!"
"Know thee? Can I know every wandering boatman to whom Sebek grantsto earn a livelihood till Typhon claims his own? And yet--why, 'tisstrange--that changed countenance!--that scar!--that stumbling gait! Itis thou, Harmachis!--'tis thou, O my boy! Art come back to glad mine oldeyes? I hoped thee dead! Let me kiss thee?--nay, I forget. Harmachis isa traitor, ay, and a murderer! Here lies the holy Amenemhat, murdered bythe traitor, Harmachis! Get thee gone! I'll have none of traitors and ofparricides! Get thee to thy wanton!--it is not thou whom I did nurse."
"Peace! woman; peace! I slew not my father--he died, alas!--he died evenin my arms."
"Ay, surely, and cursing thee, Harmachis! Thou hast given death to himwho gave thee life! _La! la!_ I am old, and I've seen many a trouble;but this is the heaviest of them all! I never liked the looks ofmummies; but I would I were one this hour! Get thee gone, I pray thee!"
"Old nurse, reproach me not! Have I not enough to bear?"
"Talk not to me of wealth, Atoua. Where shall I go and how shall I hidemy shame?"
"Ah! true, true; here mayst thou not abide, for if they found thee,surely they would put thee to the dreadful death--ay, to the death bythe waxen cloth. Nay, I will hide thee, and, when the funeral rites ofthe holy Amenemhat have been performed, we will fly hence, and cover usfrom the eyes of men till these sorrows are forgotten. _La! la!_ it is asad world, and full of trouble as the Nile mud is full of beetles. Come,Harmachis, come."