"It is an odd thing, Humphrey," he said, "but there is a
strange odour here, a very pleasant odour like that of
sandal-wood or attar of roses."
"I never heard of a rat that smelt like sandal-wood or attar of
roses," said Bastin. "Look out that it isn't a snake."
I knelt down beside Bickley, and in
clearing away the deep dust
from what seemed to be the bottom of the step, which was perhaps
four feet in
height, by accident
thrust my
amateur spade somewhat
strongly against its base where it rested upon the rocky floor.
Next moment a wonder came to pass. The whole
massive rock
began to turn outwards as though upon a pivot! I saw it coming
and grabbed Bickley by the
collar, dragging him back so that we
just rolled clear before the great block, which must have weighed
several tons, fell down and crushed us. Tommy saw it too, and
fled, though a little late, for the edge of the block caught the
tip of his tail and caused him to emit a most
piercing howl. But
we did not think of Tommy and his woes; we did not think of our
own escape or of anything else because of the
marvel that
appeared to us. Seated there upon the ground, after our backward
tumble, we could see into the space which lay behind the fallen
step, for there the light of the sun penetrated.
The first idea it gave me was that of the jewelled
shrine of
some mediaeval saint which, by good fortune, had escaped the
plunderers; there are still such existing in the world. It shone
and glittered,
apparently with gold and diamonds, although, as a
matter of fact, there were no diamonds, nor was it gold which
gleamed, but some ancient metal, or rather amalgam, which is now
lost to the world, the same that was used in the tubes of the
air-machines. I think that it contained gold, but I do not know.
At any rate, it was
equallylasting and even more beautiful,
though lighter in colour.
For the rest this adorned
recess which resembled that of a
large
funeral vault, occupying the whole space beneath the base
of the
statue that was supported on its arch, was empty save for
two flashing objects that lay side by side but with nearly the
whole width of the vault between them.
I
pointed at them to Bickley with my finger, for really I could
not speak.
"Coffins, by Jove!" he whispered. "Glass or
crystalcoffins and
people in them. Come on!"
A few seconds later we were crawling into that vault while
Bastin, still nursing the head of Oro as though it were a baby,
stood confused outside muttering something about desecrating
hallowed graves.
Just as we reached the
interior, owing to the
heightening of
the sun, the light passed away, leaving us in a kind of twilight.
Bickley produced
carriage candles from his pocket and fumbled for
matches. While he was doing so I noticed two things--firstly,
that the place really did smell like a scent-shop, and, secondly,
that the
coffins seemed to glow with a kind of phosphorescent
light of their own, not very strong, but sufficient to reveal
their outlines in the gloom. Then the candles burnt up and we
saw.
Within the
coffin that stood on our left hand as we entered,
for this
crystal was as
transparent as plate glass, lay a most
wonderful old man, clad in a gleaming, embroidered robe. His long
hair, which was parted in the middle, as we could see beneath the
edge of the pearl-sewn and broidered cap he wore, also his beard
were snowy white. The man was tall, at least six feet four inches
in
height, and rather spare. His hands were long and thin, very
delicately made, as were his sandalled feet.
But it was his face that fixed our gaze, for it was
marvelous,
like the face of a god, and, as we noticed at once, with some
resemblance to that of the
statue above. Thus the brow was broad
and
massive, the nose straight and long, the mouth stern and
clear-cut, while the cheekbones were rather high, and the
eyebrows
arched. Such are the characteristics of many handsome
old men of good blood, and as the mummies of Seti and others show
us, such they have been for thousands of years. Only this man
differed from all others because of the
fearfuldignity stamped
upon his features. Looking at him I began to think at once of the
prophet Elijah as he must have appeared rising to heaven,
enhanced by the more
earthly glory of Solomon, for although the
appearance of these patriarchs is unknown, of them one conceives
ideas. Only it seemed
probable that Elijah may have looked more
benign. Here there was no benignity, only terrible force and
infinite wisdom.
Contemplating him I shivered a little and felt
thankful that he
was dead. For to tell the truth I was afraid of that awesome
countenance which, I should add, was of the whiteness of paper,
although the cheeks still showed tinges of colour, so perfect was
the
preservation of the corpse.
I was still gazing at it when Bickley said in a voice of
amazement:
"I say, look here, in the other
coffin."
I turned, looked, and nearly collapsed on the floor of the
vault, since beauty can sometimes strike us like a blow. Oh!
there before me lay all
loveliness, such
loveliness that there
burst from my lips an
involuntary cry:
"Alas! that she should be dead!"
A young woman, I
supposed, at least she looked young, perhaps
five or six and twenty years of age, or so I judged. There she
lay, her tall and
delicate shape half
hidden in masses of
rich-hued hair in colour of a ruddy
blackness. I know not how
else to describe it, since never have I seen any of the same
tint. Moreover, it shone with a life of its own as though it had
been dusted with gold. From between the masses of this hair
appeared a face which I can only call
divine. There was every
beauty that woman can boast, from the curving eyelashes of
extraordinary length to the sweet and human mouth. To these
charms also were added a
wondrous smile and an air of kind
dignity, very different from the
fierce pride stamped upon the
countenance of the old man who was her
companion in death.
She was clothed in some close-fitting robe of white broidered
with gold; pearls were about her neck, lying far down upon the
perfect bosom, a
girdle of gold and shining gems encircled her
slender waist, and on her little feet were sandals fastened with
red stones like rubies. In truth, she was a splendid creature,
and yet, I know not how, her beauty suggested more of the spirit
than of the flesh. Indeed, in a way, it was un
earthly. My senses
were
smitten, it pulled at my heart-strings, and yet its
unutterable strangeness seemed to awake memories within me,
though of what I could not tell. A wild fancy came to me that I
must have known this
heavenly creature in some past life.
By now Bastin had joined us, and, attracted by my exclamation
and by the attitude of Bickley, who was staring down at the
coffin with a fixed look upon his face, not
unlike that of a
pointer when he scents game, he began to
contemplate the wonder
within it in his slow way.
"Well, I never!" he said. "Do you think the Glittering Lady in
there is human?"
"The Glittering Lady is dead, but I suppose that she was human
in her life," I answered in an awed whisper.
"Of course she is dead,
otherwise she would not be in that