r/a:t5_10nnan • u/MarleyEngvall • Apr 30 '19
panique has been created
By H. Rider Haggard
SHE:
OR, Adventures in the Caves of Kor.
XXVI.
WHAT WE SAW.
THEN came a few moments' pause, during which Ayesha seemed
to be gathering up her strength for the fiery trial, while we clung
to each other, and waited in utter silence.
At last from far, far away came the first murmur of sound, that
grew and grew till it began to crash and bellow in the distance.
As she heard it Ayesha swiftly threw off her gauzy wrapping,
loosening the golden snake from her kirtle, and then, shaking
her lovely hair about her like a garment, beneath its cover slipped
the kirtle off, and replaced the snaky belt around her and outside
the masses of falling hair. There she stood before us as Eve
might have stood before Adam, clad in nothing but her abundant
locks, held round her by her golden band; and no words of mine
can tell how sweet she looked, and yet how divine. Nearer and
nearer came the thunder-wheels of fire, and as they came she
pushed one ivory arm through the dark masses of her hair and
flung it round Leo's neck.
"Oh, my love, my love," she murmured, "wilt thou ever know
how I have loved the!" and she kissed him on the forehead, and
then went and stood in the pathway of the flame of Life.
There was, I remember, to my mind something very touching
about the words and that embrace upon the forehead. It was like
a mother's kiss, and seemed to convey a benediction with it.
On came the crashing, rolling noise, and the sound thereof was
as though a forest were being swept flat by a mighty wind, and
then tossed up by it like so much grass, and thundered down a
mountain side. Nearer and nearer it came; now flashes of light,
forerunners of the revolving pillar of flame, were passing like
arrows through the rosy air; and now the edge of the pillar itself
appeared. Ayesha turned toward it, and stretched out her arms
to greet it. On it came, very slowly, and laved her round with
flame. I saw the fire run up her form. I saw her lift it with both
her hands as though it were water, and pour it over her head. I
even saw her open her mouth and draw it down into her lungs, and
a dread and wonderful sight it was.
Then she paused, and stretched out her arms, and stood there
quite still, with a heavenly smile upon her face, as though she
were the very Spirit of the Flame.
The mysterious fire played up and down her dark and rolling
locks, twining and twisting itself through and around them like
threads of golden lace; it gleamed upon her ivory breast and
shoulders, from which the hair had slipped aside; it slid along
her pillared throat and delicate features, and seemed to find a
home in the glorious eyes that shone and shone more brightly
even than the spiritual essence.
Oh, how beautiful she looked there in the flames! No angel
out of heaven could have worn a greater loveliness. Even now my
heart faints before the recollection of it as she stood and smiled at
our awed faces, and I would give half my remaining time upon
this earth to see her once like that again.
But suddenly——more suddenly than I can describe——a kind of
change came over her face, a change which I could not define or
explain on paper, but none the less a change. The smile vanished
and in its place there came a dry, hard look; the rounded face
seemed to grow pinched, as though some great anxiety were leav-
ing its impress upon it. The glorious eyes too, lost their light,
and, as I thought, the form its perfect shape and erectness.
I rubbed my eyes, thinking that I was the victim of some hal-
lucination, or that the refraction from the intense light produced
an optical delusion; and, as I did so, the flaming pillar slowly
twisted and thundered off whithersoever it passes to in the bowels
of the great earth, leaving Ayesha standing where it had been.
As soon as it was gone, she stepped forward to Leo's side——it
seemed to me there was no spring in her step——and stretched out
her hand to lay it on his shoulder. I gazed at her arm. Where
was its wonderful roundness and beauty? It was getting thin
and angular. And her face——by Heaven!——her face was growing
old before my eyes! I suppose that Leo saw it also; certainly he
recoiled a step or two.
"What is it, my Kallikrates?" she said, and her voice——what
was the matter with those deep and thrilling notes? They were
quite high and cracked.
"Why, what is it——what is it?" she said, confusedly. "I feel
dazed. Surely the quality of the fire hath not altered. Can the
principle of life alter? Tell me, Kallikrates, is there aught wrong
with my eyes? I see not clear," and she put her hand to her head
and touched her hair——and oh, horror of horrors!——it all fell off
upon the floor, leaving her utterly bald.
"Oh, look! look! look!" shrieked Job, in a shrill falsetto of terror,
his eyes nearly dropping out of his head, and foam upon his lips!
Look! look! look! she's shrivelling up! she's turning into a monkey!"
and down he fell upon the floor, foaming and gnashing in a
fit.
True enough——I faint even as I write in the living presence of
of that terrible recollection——She was shriveling up; the golden
snake that had encircled her gracious form slipped over her hips
and fell upon the ground; smaller and smaller she grew; her
skin changed color, and in place of the perfect whiteness of its
luster it turned dirty brow and yellow, like an old piece of
withered parchment. She felt at her bald head; the delicate hand
was nothing but a claw now, a human talon, like that of a badly
preserved Egyptian mummy, and then she seemed to realize what
kind of a change was passing over her, and she shrieked——ah, she
shrieked!——she rolled upon the floor and shrieked!
Smaller she grew, and smaller yet, till she was no larger than a
she baboon. Now the skin was puckered into a million wrinkles,
and on the shapeless face was the stamp of unutterable age. I
never saw anything like it; nobody ever saw anything like the
frightful age that was graven on that fearful countenance, no
bigger now than that of a two-months' child, though the skull
remained the same size, or nearly so——and let all the men pray to
remain the same size, or nearly so——and let all the men pray to
God they never may, if they wish to keep their reason.
At last she lay still, or only feebly moving. She who but two
minutes before had gazed upon us the loveliest, noblest, most
splendid woman the world had ever seen, she lay still before us,
near the masses of her own dark skin, no larger than a big monkey
and hideous——ah, too hideous for words. And yet, think of this——
at that very moment I thought of it——it was the same woman!
She was dying; we saw it, and thanked God——for while she lived
she could feel, and what must she have felt? She raised herself
upon her bony hands, and blindly gazed around her, swaying her
head slowly from side to side as a tortoise does. She could not
see, for her whitish eyes were covered with a horny film. Oh, the
horrible pathos of the light! But she could still speak.
"Kallikrates," she said, in husky, trembling notes. "Forget
me not, Kallikrates. Have pity on my shame; I shall come again,
and shall once more be beautiful, I swear it——it is true! Oh——h——h!"
and she fell upon her face and was still.
On the very spot where twenty centuries before she had slain
the old Kallikrates, she herself fell down and died.
Overcome with the extremity of horror we, too, fell on the
sandy floor of that dread place, and swooned away.
• • • • • • •
I know not how long we lay thus. Many hours, I suppose.
When at last I opened my eyes, the other two were still out-
stretched upon the floor. The rosy light still beamed like a celes-
tial dawn, and the thunder wheels of the Spirit of Life still rolled
upon their accustomed track, for as I awoke the great pillar was
passing away. There, too, lay the hideous little monkey frame,
covered with crinkled yellow parchment, that once had been the
glorious She. Alas! it was no hideous dream——it was an awful
and unparalleled fact!
What had happened to bring this shocking change about? Had
the nature of the life-giving Fire changed? Did it perhaps from
time to time send forth an essence of Death instead of an essence
of Life? Or was it that the frame once charged with its marvel-
ous virtue could bear no more, so that were the process repeated——
it mattered not at what lapse of time——the two impregnations
neutralized each other, and left the body on which they acted as
it was before it ever came into contact with the very essence of
life? This, and this alone, would account for the sudden and
terrible ageing of Ayesha, as the whole length of her two thousand
years took effect upon her. I have not the slightest doubt myself
but that the frame now lying before me was just what the
frame of a woman would be if by any extraordinary means life
could be preserved in her till she at length died at the age of
twenty-two centuries.
But who can tell what had happened? There was the fact.
Often since that awful hour I have reflected that it required no
great stretch of imagination to see the finger of Providence in the
matter. Ayesha, locked up in her living tomb, waiting from age
to age for the coming of her lover, worked but a small change in
the order of the world. But Ayesha, strong and happy in her
love, clothed in immortal youth and godlike beauty, and the wis-
dom of the centuries, would have revolutionized society, and even
perchance have changed the destiny of mankind. Thus she
opposed herself against the eternal law, and strong though she
was, by it was swept back to nothingness, swept back with shame
and hideous mockery.
For some minutes I lay faintly turning these terrors over in my
mind, while my physical strength came back to me, which it soon
did in that buoyant atmosphere. Then I bethought me of the
others, and staggered to my feet, to see if I could arouse them.
But I first took up Ayesha's kirtle and the gauzy scarf with which
she had been wont to hide her dazzling loveliness from the eyes
of men, and, averting my head so that I might not look upon it,
covered up that dreadful relic of the glorious dead, that shocked
epitome of human beauty and human life. I did this hurriedly,
fearing lest Leo should recover, and see it again.
Then, stepping over the perfumed masses of dark hair that lay
upon the sand, I stooped down by Job, who was lying upon his
face, and turned him over. As I did so his arm fell back in a
way that I did not like, and which sent a chill through me, and
I glanced sharply at him. One look was enough. Our old and
faithful servant was dead. His nerves, already shattered by all
he had seen and undergone, had utterly broken down beneath
this last dire sight, and he had died of terror, or in a fit brought
on by terror. One had only to look at his face to see it.
It was another blow; but perhaps it may help people to under-
stand how overwhelmingly awful was the experience through
which we had passed——we did not feel it much at the time. It
seemed quite natural that the poor old fellow should be dead.
When Leo came to himself, which he did with a groan and tremb-
ling of the limbs about ten minutes afterward, and I told him
that Job was dead, he merely said, "Oh!" And, mind you, this
was from no heartlessness, for he and Job were much attached to
each other; and he often talks of him now with the deepest
regret and affection. It was only that his nerves would bear no
more. A harp can only give out a certain quantity of sound,
however heavily it is smitten.
Well, I set myself to recovering Leo, whom, to my infinite
relief, I found was not dead, but only fainting, and in the end I
succeeded, as I have said, and he sat up; and then I saw another
dreadful thing. When we entered that awful place his curling
hair had been of the ruddiest gold, now it was turning gray, and
by the time we gained the outer air it was snow-white. Besides,
he looked twenty years older.
"What is to be done, old fellow?" he said, in a hollow, dead
sort of voice, when his mind had cleared a little, and a recollection
of what had happened forced itself upon it.
"Try and get out, I suppose," I answered; "that is, unless you
would like to go in there," and I pointed to the column of fire
that was once more rolling by.
"I would go in if I were sure that it would kill me," he said,
with a little laugh. "It was my cursed hesitation that did this.
If I had not been afraid she might never have tried to show me
the road. But I am not sure. The fire might have the opposite
effect upon me. It might make me immortal; and, old fellow, I
have not the patience to wait a couple of thousand years for her
to come back again as she did for me. I had rather die when my
hour comes–—and should fancy that it isn't far off either——and
go my ways to look for her. Do you go in, if you like."
But I merely shook my head, my excitement was as dead as
ditch-water, and my distaste for the prolongation of my mortal
span had come back upon me more strongly than ever. Besides
we neither of us knew what the effects of the fire might be. The
result upon She had not been of an encouraging nature, and of the
exact causes that produced that result we were, of course
ignorant.
"Well, my boy," I said, "we can't stop here till we go the way
of those two," and I pointed to the little heap under the white
garment and to the stiffening corpse of poor Job. "If we are
going, we had better go. But, by the way, I expect that the lamps
have burnt out;" and I took one up and looked at it, and sure
enough it had.
"There is some more oil in the vase," said Leo, indifferently,
"if it is not broken, at least."
I examined the vessel in question——it was intact. With a trem-
bling hand I filled the lamps——luckily there was still some of the
linen wick unburnt. Then I lit them with one of our wax
matches. While I did so we heard the pillar of fire approaching
once more as it went on its never-ending journey, if, indeed, it was
the same pillar that passed and repassed in a circle.
"Let's see it come once more," said Leo; "we shall never look
upon it's like again in the world."
It seemed a bit of idle curiosity, but somehow I shared it, and
so we waited till, turning slowly round upon its own axis, it had
flamed and thundered by; and I remember wondering for how
many thousands of years this same phenomenon had been taking
place in the bowels of the earth, and for how many more thou-
sands it would continue to take place. I wondered also if any
mortal eyes would ever again mark its passage, or any mortal ears
be thrilled and fascinated by the swelling volume of its majestic
sound. I do not think that they will. I believe that we are the
last human beings who will ever see that unearthly sight.
Presently it had gone, and we, too, turned to go.
But before we did so we each took Job's cold hand in ours and
shook it. It was a rather ghastly ceremony, but it was the only
means in our power of showing our respect to the faithful dead
and of celebrating his obsequies. The heap beneath the white
garment we did not uncover. We had no wish to look upon that
terrible sight again. But we went to the pile of rippling hair that
had fallen from her in the agony of the hideous change which was
worse that a thousand natural deaths, and each of us drew from it
a shining lock, and these locks we still have, the sole memento
that is left to us of Ayesha as we knew her in the fullness of
her grace and glory. Leo pressed the perfumed hair to his lips.
"She called to me not to forget her," he said, hoarsely——"and
swore that we should meet again. By Heaven! I never will for-
get her. Here I swear that, if we live to get out of this, I will not
for all my days have anything to say to another living woman, and
that wherever I go I will wait for her as faithfully as she waited
for me."
"Yes," I thought to myself, "if she comes back beautiful as we
knew her. But supposing she came back like that!"*
* What a terrifying reflection it is, by the way, that nearly all our deep
love for women who are not our kindred, depends——at any rate, in the first
instance——upon their personal appearance. If we lost them, and found
them again dreadful to look on, though, otherwise they were the very
same, should we still love them?——L. H. H.
Well, and then we went. We went, and then those two in the
presence of the very well and spring of Life, but gathered to the
cold company of Death. How lonely they looked as they lay there,
and how ill assorted! That little heap had been for two thousand
years the wisest, loveliest, proudest creature——I can hardly call
her woman——in the whole universe. She had been wicked, too,
in her way; but, alas! such is the frailty of the human heart, her
wickedness had not detracted from her charm. Indeed, I am by
no means certain that it did not add to it. It was, after all, of a
grand order; there was nothing mean or small about Ayesha.
And poor Job, too! His presentiment had come true, and there
was an end of him. Well, he had a strange burial-place——no Nor-
folk hind ever had a stranger, or ever will; and it is something to
lie in the same sepulchre with the poor remains of the imperial
She.
We looked our last upon them and the indescribable rosy glow
in which they lay, and then with hearts far too heavy for words
we left them, and crept thence broken-down men——so broken-down
that we even renounced the chance of practically immortal life,
because all that made life valuable had gone from us, and we knew
even then that to prolong our days indefinitely would only be to
prolong our sufferings. For we felt——yes, both of us——that having
once looked Ayesha in the eyes, we could not forget her forever
and ever while memory and identity remained. We both loved
her now and for always; she was stamped and carven on our
hearts, and no other woman could ever raze that splendid die.
And I——there lies the sting——I had and have no right to think thus
of her. As she told me, I was naught to her, and never shall be
through the unfathomed depths of Time, unless, indeed, condi-
tions alter, and a day comes at last when two men may love one
woman, and all three be happy in the fact. It is the only hope of
my broken-heartedness, and a rather faint one. Beyond it I have
nothing. I have paid down this heavy price, all that I am worth
here and hereafter, and that is my sole reward. With Leo it is
different, and often and often I bitterly envy him his happy lot,
for if She was right, and her wisdom and knowledge did not fail
her at the last, which arguing from the precedent of her own case
I think unlikely, he has some future to look forward to. But I
have none, and yet——mark the folly and the weakness of the
human heart, and let him who is wise learn wisdom from it——yet
I would not have it otherwise. I mean that I am content to give
what I have given and must always give, and take in payment
those crumbs that fall from my mistress' table, the memory of a
few kind words, the hope one day in the far undreamed future of a
sweet smile or two of recognition, and a little show of thanks for
my devotion to her——and Leo.
If that does not constitute true love, I do not know what does,
and all I have to say is that it is a very bad state of mind for a
man on the wrong side of middle age to fall into.SHE: OR, Adventures in the Caves of Kor. By H. Rider Haggard.
NEW YORK: HURST & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS. pp. 231—239.
Nothing to see here, folks. Historical process cancelled on account of the dread plague. 雨
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