ad in his robes of leopard skins, after whom marched a troop
of soldiers with the sun glittering on their armour and accoutrements.
Behind, the runners were carrying white staves in their hand, and after
them fifty singing girls, strewing flowers of all colours upon the path.
Then, escorted by his bodyguard, the Royal Arms bearers, and seated upon
his throne of state, which again was borne upon the shoulders of the
chief eight nobles of the land, and had above it a magnificent canopy,
was Pharaoh himself, dressed in his robes of state and carrying his
sceptre and the flagellum of Osiris in either hand. Behind him were his
fan bearers, and by his side a man whom, in spite of his rich dress, I
recognised as soon as my eyes fell upon him. He was none other than the
servant whom Pharaoh delighted to honour, his favourite, Ptahmes, son of
Netruhotep, Chief of the Magicians, and Lord of the North and South.
Deformed as he was, he walked with a proud step, carrying himself like
one who knows that his position is assured. Following Pharaoh were his
favourite generals, then another detachment of soldiers, still more
priests, musicians, and dancing girls, and last of all a choir robed in
white, and numbering several hundred voices. If you can picture the blue
sky overhead, the sunshine, the mighty pylons and temples, the palm
trees, the glittering procession, the gorgeous uniforms, the avenues of
kriosphinxes, and the waters of the Nile showing in the background, you
will have some notion of the scene I have attempted to portray.

Reaching the main pylon of the temple, the dancing girls, musicians and
soldiers drew back on either side, and Pharaoh, still borne upon the
shoulders of his courtiers, and accompanied by his favourite magician,
entered the sacred building and was lost to view.

He had no sooner disappeared than the whole scene vanished, and once
more I found myself standing in the darkness. It was only for a few
moments, however. Then the globule of light which had first attracted my
attention reappeared. Again it swung before my eyes and again I suddenly
found myself in the open air. Now, however, it was nighttime. As on the
previous occasion, I stood before the main pylon of the temple. This
time, however, there was no crowd, no brilliant procession, no joyous
music. Heavy clouds covered the sky, and at intervals the sound of
sullen thunder came across the sands from the west. A cold wind sighed
round the corners of