The age-herald., 1901-12-22
,0ooooooooooooc 7oooooOooo
=. BY DEREK vANE. =.

formuiae made by invisible helpers to drive out the stroke of god and goddess
 ito enable me to be a law unto mysel1f Is not my power so great that percnance' some day I may even aspire 70 the throne of the Pharaohs? Ali the wisdom of the ages lies in the hands Of the
 priests. My blood bois in my veins when
 1 think how he and she must make merry
 over the way they fooled me; such sim
 pie trick, against which any man less
 wise than I would have been on his
 guard"
 For some time the voice did not speak. ]
 and when 1t was heard again 1t sounded
 strangely faint and exhausted.
 ''I am dying" 1t whispered, dying
 slowly, but surely; all my power cannot avail me I met Nephthys face to face:
 I sent forth my will to smite her. but
 it was met by a stronger-the will of
 Amasis-and the evil that should have
 struck her has fallen back on myself. It had to find a victim; 1t was deadly
 enough to kill, and falling to reach her
 for whom 1t was intended-for the power
 of Amasis compassed her round like a shield-it has recoiled on mel must die. 'Is good, then, stronger than evil? Or
 is it only that Amasis has attained to
 greater power than I?
 "I make all my preparations for death. My body will be embalmed after the man
 Ter of the great adopts among the Phoenicians, and rarely practiced even by them account of the cost and
 labor. shall lie in the state that befits
 my rank and greatness. neither repine
 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 l wind-can have finished forever with It's
 human habitation, which has been cut down while in It's full maturity.
 But need speculate no longer: my
 doubts and wonder will all be made clear soon. I grow weaker day by day. have l shut myself up in the Temple. I would
 not that Amasis or Nephthys 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 meanest slave. I will die
 as have lived-alone.'
 The voice ceased. But for a long time I did not raise my head. It was as
 though I lay in a trance; I was oblivious
 of my surroundings everything seemed strange and unreal. At last looked up, l slowly and steathily, and my first glance was for Al Chindus. I drew a deep
 breath of amazement and relief. The eyes I had dreaded to meet were closed,
 there was not 8 sign of life in the marble | face. The limbs lay extended in all the rigidity of death and sense of dignity
 and power pervaded the silent form, tell
 ing, even after 5000 years that 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 and the | evil he had done? Had he been driven to confession, though he was incapable of | repentance? Or was his personality so Idf14 I4AA 4.. | had impressed itself on me-the first to look on his face when the coffin lid was raised after that ancient tragedy-and
 I could read his secret thoughts and | speak them aloud as though were read | ing from book.
 | Or was the old tradition a truth and l had life really come back and died out again while covered helpless and afraid? Was it he who had spoken, the Dan who had been dead 5000 years, and
 had death sealed his lips again when he had confessed his misdeeds?
 | l could not tell. I could only ask and | ask, and there was no one to answer | For Al Chindus never moved or spoke. or
 betrayed the slightest sign of animation even when I ventured closer to study his
 wonderful face. If, indeed the spirit
 had returned to that quiet figure it 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 have list ened to 1t with believing eais? Even to myself I could only say that there are more things in heaven and
 earth than are dreampt of in our philos- ophy.
 l However the mystery might be ex- plained, one thing I knew-I had learnt
 the true history of Al Chindus, the priest.
 It was like a handwriting on the wall, which comes and goes in flash. leaving
 no trace, but whose truth and reality are naver oalIod {r, nt.auttay