Anxious were the moments, however, which passed after her task was completed, till the arrival of Cheops; and when he did come, she saw he was attired as herself. He grasped her arm, and without speaking led her to the banks of the river. Clara shuddered when she found herself alone in the power of this mysterious being, and saw the river roll deep and dark beneath her feet. Cheops felt her shudder, and cried with one of his horrid laughs, which sounded fearfully amidst the stillness of the night, “What! do even you fear me? Is there no courage in this degenerate race? None? What do you fear? If you dread to trust yourself in my power, or think yourself unequal to the task you have undertaken, retire: there is yet time, and I wish no unwilling agents. Poor child!” continued he, looking at her with feeling; “thou dost not know me, but for worlds I would not harm thee!”
“I will go with you,” said Clara resolutely; “I do not shrink. Let what will await me, I will not recede: though unheard-of torments may attend me, I will endure them.”
“By the Holy Gods of my forefathers,” cried Cheops, “she is a brave girl! Yes, Clara, I will trust thee; and though we should encounter horrors fearful as those which menace the initiati in the dread Isian mysteries, I will not doubt thy courage. A determined spirit, Clara, may subdue even Fate.”
As he spoke, he threw the clothes she had brought for the purpose carelessly upon the banks of the river; and then again seizing her arm, he dragged her forward with such rapidity, that in an incredibly short time they approached the palace of Rosabella. The mansion looked the region of enchantment. Brilliantly illuminated, light streamed from every window; and through the colonnade of the great hall, groups of elegantly dressed people were seen moving gaily to and fro, some dancing, and others listening to harmonious music.
Clara, though terrified and exhausted, felt still irresistibly impelled to proceed, and, still guided by her strange companion, entered, unobserved, the outer court of the palace.
“Prince Ferdinand of Germany commands the guard tonight,” whispered Cheops, in a low, unnatural voice; “it is well, he shall go with us.”
“But will he?” asked Clara tremblingly.
“Will he?” returned Cheops, with his peculiar sneer: “dost thou doubt my power, girl?”
Clara and Cheops had now reached a place from whence, unobserved, they could survey the whole of the splendid apartment before them. They had, in fact, entered the hall, and placed themselves in a kind of recess shaded by projecting pillars, from whence they could see every part of the saloon. Clara was astonished to find herself so easily in the presence of the Queen, for she knew not how they had attained their present situation; and she would have spoken to ask Cheops, but he laid his finger upon his lips: and whispering—“Hippocrates was the only son of Isis and Osiris!”—she comprehended he meant that Wisdom and Knowledge produced Silence, and she did not dare to breathe a syllable.
Rosabella sat upon a splendid dais, gorgeously attired; her black eyes flashing with added brilliancy from the deep rouge upon her cheeks; whilst her raven hair was adorned with diamonds, and a splendid tiara of the same precious stones sparkled on her forehead; a robe of crimson velvet, bordered with ermine, fell in graceful folds over her fine figure; whilst her swanlike neck and snowy arms, exposed perhaps more than delicacy might strictly warrant, were also loaded with costly jewels. Around her, stood the ladies of her court, and amongst the rest, Elvira, plainly attired in a robe of dark grey silk. No ornaments shone amongst her golden tresses, and her naturally fair complexion seemed faded to a sickly and unnatural whiteness.
The indignation of Clara could scarcely be restrained at this sight; but Cheops laying his hand upon her arm, they stood suddenly before the Queen.
“Ah! who are these?” cried Rosabella, starting. Cheops took no notice of her surprise; but, tuning his lute, began to sing a few doggerel verses in praise of her Majesty.
Clara’s astonishment and awe now surpassed description; her sense of personal identity became confused; she could scarcely fancy that it was really the hideous Mummy who was her companion: her senses swam, her head became giddy, and she could scarcely keep herself from fainting.
“What means this mummery?” asked Rosabella; “how came these minstrels here?”
“It is doubtless a device of the King,” returned some of her ladies, “to amuse your majesty.”
Rosabella smiled; attentions were now so rare upon the part of Edmund towards her, that she felt gratified it should be even supposed he wished to please her, and addressing the minstrel more graciously, asked what brought him to England. He sung his reply: and in the same doggerel rhyme asked the Queen to let him tell her fortune.
“What say you, ladies,” said Rosabella, again smiling, “shall we hear our destiny?”
The ladies, delighted with anything that promised an interruption to the general gloom which hung over Rosabella’s court, gladly assented; and, to Clara’s infinite surprise, the Mummy addressed a few doggerel verses to each, whilst the voice in which he repeated this nonsense, was so different from his usual deep sepulchral tones, that Clara’s wonder became mixed with fear, and she shuddered with horror as the conviction, that the being with whom she had associated herself was indeed a demon, flashed across her mind.
When Elvira’s turn came, Clara perceived her colour was heightened, and that she trembled excessively, yet the Mummy’s verses to her were as unmeaning as to the rest. Whilst this scene was
