The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1901-12-22
Open Until
r.o5p. ,fl.lntil
Christmas.
zfes.
- -

Y
shes sholifd shave dased to slight neI,
with the mighty ones of the Remple OF
the Sum- the wielders of protection, the
princess Of Eternity 5e Have + net magic
drive out the stroke of god and goddess
to enable me5te be law unto myself?
Is not my power so great shat per-
chance. some day I may even aspire to
the throne of the Phara oflss?sS s.An the
wisdom of the ages lies in the hands of
the priests: Mys blood boils 5ins my veins
when I think how he and she must make
merry over the way they fooled me:
such simple trick, against which any
man less wise than would Z haE eAbeen
on his guard. assssFsses
For some. tmestlae voice did not speak,
and when it was heard again it sounded
str1ng sm fsi ana sshsusted .av,n.
slowly but surely an my power cannot
avail me. met Nephthys face to face,
| sent forth nlysswill to smite her, bu.
It was met BY g strenger-the will Of
struck her has fallen back on myself.
1t had to f1ndFi victim, it was deadly
enough to kill, and failing to reach her
for whom it was intended-for the power
shield-it has recoiled on mel must die.
rs good, then, stronger than evil? Or
is it only that Amasis has attained to a
greater power thansI?
My body will be embalmed after the
manner of the great adopts among the
Phoenicians, and rarely !practfsed even
by them on account Of the cost and Ia
Dor. / shall lie in the state that BELTS
my rank and greatness l neither re-
pine nor struggle; I know it would be
| useless, and yet I cannot think that the
mighty spirit that has dwelt In me
which has never known fear. which has
| bowed the heads Of men as the corn Is
bowed by the Wind-cane have finished
for ever with its rg human habitation,
which has been cuts down while in its fun
maturity. ~
"But I need speculate no longer: my
soon. I grow weaker day by day. |
| have shut myself up in7'the temple;
should have occasion to triumph over
me, should know that I have fallen into
my own trap, should see the mighty Al
| Chindus brought as low as the msaneEt
| slave. I will die, as have livtd-alone.
| The voice ceased. But for long time
| 1 did not raise my head. 1t was as
| though lay In a trance; L was obvious
of my surroundings, everything seemed
| up, slowly and stealthily, and my first
| glance was for Al Chindus 1 drew a
/ deep breath Of amazement and rel1ef
| the eyes I had dreaded to meet were
closed there was not sign of life IN the
i marble face. The limbs lay extended In
! all the rightly of death, and sense OF
| dignity and power pervaded the silen,
| form. telling, even after 3.ee0 years, thai
| this had been no common clay.
Had I been dreaming, and had the
| dead mans voice spoken to me IN my
dreams. showing me his life ana the
| evil he had done? Had he been driven
ta confession. though he was incapable
of repentance? Or was his personality
So strong that in some mysterious way
it had Impressed itself on me-the HT Isl
was raised after that ancient tTageoy.5
and 1 could read his secret thoughts ana
sneak them aloud as though L were read
ing from book!
Or was the old tradition truth, and
had life really come back and dled ous
again while 1 covered helpless ana
afraid? Was it he who had spoken, the
man who had been dead 5000 years, and
had death sealed his lips AGAIN Wneh
he had confessed his misdeeds!
I could not tell q could only ask and
ask and there was no. one to answer.
For AL Chindus meyer moved or spoke
or betrayed the slightest sign OF ANNA
wonderful face. If. indeed the spirit mad
returned to that quiet figure, 1t was gone
again forever. I did not speak OF what
passed between him and me; it was too
strange a story to tell. Who would nave
listened to it with believing ears? Even
TO myself / could only say that there
are more things in heaven and eaftn
than are dreamt of in our philosophy
However the mystery might be explain
ed. one thing I knew-I had learned the
true history of Al Chindus, tht priest. It
was like a handwriting on the wall.
which comes and goes in a flash. leaving
no trace, but whose truth and reality
are never called in uquesden.
(The End
Copyright in U. S. by d. I. Pierce)