and merciful gods, my vision shall be made very truth indeed! Look,
Anemen-Ha, Priest of the God who is King of Gods! Look, Menkau-Ra, thou
who wouldst reign in the place of Nefer. Behold, he has come back from
the bosom of Osiris to greet thee!"

With eyes fixed and ears sharpened by such terror as only the
sin-steeped soul can know, they saw the waxen eyelids of the mummy
slowly rise, the dim, glazed eyes look out from underneath them, the
dry, black lips move, and heard a thin, harsh voice say through the
awful silence:

"Greeting, Nitocris, my Queen--greeting from the gloom of Amenthes,
where I have waited too long for those who ere now should have stood
with me in the Halls of Doom and the presence of the Assessors! Say now,
thou who sittest feasting between my murderers, how much longer must I
wait for thee and them?"

Not long, O Nefer, my beloved, not long! Tarry yet a little while, O
outraged soul, in the shape that once was thine, and thou shalt see
thyself avenged. Lo, I hear the wings of Kefa, Goddess of the
Flood-time, rustling in the silence of the midnight skies. She herself
shall pour out a libation to thine injured shade! "Nay, nay, my lords,
and you good friends of those who did my own true lord to death, sit
still, and drain a farewell cup with me, your Queen. It is too late to
fly, for every way is closed. The High Gods have spoken, and I will do
their bidding!" Then, extending her white, jewelled arms toward the
mummy, she cried in a deeper, harsher tone: "O Nefer, my Prince and my
love! There lives no man in Khem who shall take thy place beside me, or
usurp the throne that should have been thine. I have sinned, but I
repent me of the wrong. Lo, now I come and bring thee a goodly sacrifice
to cheer thine angry heart--my lord, my love, I come!"

Held by the triple spell of guilt and fear and wonder, they listened to
these terrible words in silence, white horror sitting on their blanching
cheeks and brows.

As she ceased she raised her arms above her head, a golden cup
full-crowned between her glittering hands. A moment she held it aloft,
then dashed it to the floor, and cried in a voice that rang like the
laughter of devils through the awful silence:

"Come, Kefa, come, and bear me to my lord!"

The goddess answered in a mighty rush and roar of waters, long pent and
swiftly loosed. Then above the tumult rose the hoarse shouts of men and
the shrill screams of women, and the crash and clash of