kha! … the murderess! … Hugh's promised bride! Ur-tasen, the evil plotter! … who had done … I knew not what … something that would wreck Hugh's life as well as his honour… Neit-akrit! … who might be a friend, and yet was a foe! … and I … a helpless prisoner, stupid, senseless, half-drowsy still, after a drugged and heavy sleep!
"And thou, Maat-kha, who art daughter of Uah-ab-ra, the son of Ach-mes, the son of Ne-ku, tell Isis, the mysterious goddess, why thou art here."
I did not know that voice, some priest probably … no concern of mine … I could perhaps get another half-hour's sleep … I was still so tired.
"I came here to crave of Isis the pure, Isis the beloved, Isis the most holy, that she deign to pour upon me the fruits of her blessing, for I would swear fealty to this man, and be his wife."
That was Queen Maat-kha's voice, and just now I had heard that of Hugh … the pain in my head was intolerable … my limbs felt weak and stiff: there was the whole length of my prison between me and the aperture, through which probably I should be able to see those who had spoken. I began to drag myself along, but I was only half awake, my limbs only just managed to bear me along, and I did not know if I should ever reach that aperture.
"Art awake, oh, Isis, who art sister and bride of Osiris?
"Art awake, oh, Isis, who art mother of Horus?
"Oh, Isis, give life to this man and to this woman, who have sought the sanctity of thy temple!
"The gods above do rejoice! the glorious company is full of joy, giving praise to thee, oh, Isis, who art pure!
