ch we afterwards proved
to be derived from old Egypt, in short the worship of Isis and Horus.
Subsequently they tried to steal her away and through the accident of
my intervention, failed. Later on, after her marriage when shock had
deprived her of her mind, these priests renewed the attempt, this time
in Egypt, and succeeded. In the end we rescued her in Central Africa,
where she was playing the part of the Mother-goddess Isis and even
wearing her ancient robes. Next she and her husband came home with their
minds turned towards a branch of study that took them back to Egypt.
Here they devote themselves to unearthing a temple and find out that
among all the gods of Egypt, who seem to have been extremely numerous,
it was dedicated to Isis and Horus, the very divinities with whom they
recently they had been so intimately concerned if in traditional and
degenerate forms.

Moreover that was not the finish of it. They come to the sanctuary. They
discover the statue of the goddess with the child gone, as their child
was gone. A disaster occurs and both destroys and buries Ragnall so
effectually that nothing of him is ever seen again: he just vanishes
into another man's grave and remains there.

A common sort of catastrophe enough, it is true, though people of
superstitious mind might have thought that it looked as though the
goddess, or whatever force was behind the goddess, was working vengeance
on the man who desecrated her ancient shrine. And, by the way, though
I cannot remember whether or no I mentioned it in "The Ivory Child,"
I recall that the old priest of the Kendah, Harut, once told me he was
sure Ragnall would meet with a violent death. This seemed likely enough
in that country under our circumstances there, still I asked him why. He
answered,

"Because he has laid hands on that which is holy and not meant for man,"
and he looked at Lady Ragnall.

I remarked that all women were holy, whereon he replied that he did not
think so and changed the subject.

Well, Ragnall, who had married the lady who once served as the last
priestess of Isis upon earth, was killed, whereas she, the priestess,
was almost miraculously preserved from harm. And--oh! the whole story
was deuced odd and that is all. Poor Ragnall! He was a great English
gentleman and one whom when first I knew him, I held to be the most
fortunate person I ever met, endowed as he was with every advantage of
mind, body and estate. Yet in the end this did no