Evening star. [volume], August 25, 1912, Page 16, Image 38

About Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972

Image provided by: Library of Congress, Washington, DC

                
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sistency. What I can't understand, though,
what vandals have stripped off the bandages,
taken the face mask."
Suddenlv the professor started?he could
have sworn that one of the eyes opened
dreamily and peered up at him, even
winked. "Ha. ha!" lie laughed nervously.
"Strange tricks our vivid imaginations play
us! Centuries since that eye closed never to
open again!
Professor Bachmann once more returned
to his writing table, trying to drive from his
mind the gruesome idea that the shri\cled
Egyptian had looked at him out of his soul
less eyes and winked.
"I wonder if there really is anything the
matter with me?" he questioned. "What
diil Oswald mean by my not working to
night? He must have noticed something
unusual. Perhaps I'm taking too much
coffee, or too much? Eh? Again? God
bless us!" A soft, rustling noise as of slip
ping draperv claimed his startled attention.
He stared stupidlv at the mummy case. Un
doubtedly there was a stirring of life in that
casket of the dead.
The professor essayed to rise from his
chair; but his limbs doubled under him like
soft cloth. He sought to question the maker
of the disturbing noise; but his tongue had
lost its trick of speech. He had conversed
with spirits at a seance; but they had Ikvii
expected, appealed to: this was altogether
different. No longer was there any doubt
al>out the actuality of these life sounds!
Sighs and deep gasps for breath came from
the mummy's resting place, and next in the
professor's vision there loomed an arm.
thrust upward. His mind flashed a thou
sand lights upon his own condition; it
worked with tierce rapidity. He was not
mad. he could feel that; he was not asleep
and in a nightmare?he stretched forth his
hand and turned two separate sheets of the
treatise on psychology. The response of the
paper to his touch proved that he was
awake and in full control of his faculties.
And there with decorous sequence the anat
omy of the deceased Pharaoh disengaged
itself from the sarcophagus?the dead Egyp
tian was resurrecting himself!
The professor felt slipping away from him
the sense of time. Centuries were being an
nihilated while It, the Ka. the Asjject, the
resouled casket of a dead Pharaoh, rose with
malignant deliberation and stood looking at
lim out of solemn black eyes that seemed to
iold the awful secrets of bygone ages. Then
the Pharaoh spoke the words of an unknown
tongue.
His voice broke the spell that had almost
stilled the professor's heart. The feeling of
dread gave place to one of joy. Here was a
manifestation of true occultism?the hover
ing Ka had returned to its mummified
i)(xlv'
Boodha, still in a half stupor, had spoken
in Hindustani. That Professor Bachmann
understood not was an unimportant issue.
He darted forward and put his hand on the
Egyptian's arm to lead him to his own chair;
but as he did so there was a loud rap on his
library door.
THE professor l>ecame terribly excited.
He fairly jammed j>oor Boodha back
into the sarcophagus, his insistent treatment
quite at variance with the courtliness of his
language. He hastily pulled the cover o\er
the box and opened the door, discovering
that it was Dr. Leigh-Mervyn who had
knocked.
"Oswald said vou were in the library.
Professor; so I took the liberty of coming
right up. Just dropped in to see if my tarry
friend from the Nile had materialized.
Almost unconsciously Professor Bach
mann placed a tingcr to his lips, and in his
eyes there was a mysterious look of cau
tion.
As Leigh-Mervvn turned, his eye caught
sight of the package. "Ah! here's our long
sleeper," he gave the box a playful kick.
"Let's wake him up. Professor, and have a
chat with him."
For answer Bachmann slipped his hand
through Leigh-Mervyn s arm and led him
to a seat at the desk.
"You're looking tucked up, Professor?
the dust of these dead things is getting into
your lungs," Leigh-Mervyn said, as his pro
fessional eye noted the restless look of sub
dued excitement in Bachmann's face.
"You're mistaken. There is nothing dry
or dustv about my researches: they are in
spiring.' The pleasure you have given me
today is one of a lifetime.
"Oh, how does our kippered friend look?
and Leigh-Mervyn nodded toward the box.
He was startled by Bachmann's irrelevant
reply. Leaning across the table, he asked
in a. hoarse whisper, "L)o you lx*lie\e iii the
reanimation of the dead, the manifestation
to mortals of a spirit that has passes! long,
long ago.-''"
Bachmann's slow deliberation saved th<
day for Leigh-Mervvn. Instead of yielding
to "his impulse to crv out "Tommyrot! he
hedged, realizing that the dear old prote- '
sor was absolutely batty, with. "I've had
no experience in such matters. I ve nev< :
placed much faith in its possibilities.
"Well, what would you say. Doctor, it i
were to tell you that one who had been dea :
for centuries had appeared to me in this
verv room and had spoken to me
In his earnestness the professor stftcliol
a hand across the table and allowed it to
rest upon the doctor's arm.
"I should say that some professional me
dium had worked the* oracle, jxm n.tps.
"And if this medium were to show yor
the same manifestation, if you were to hold .
speech with a person you knew to have ?eeu
long dead, then what would you say.-'
chance, my d.ear Professor: I'm im
mune trom spirits. InwardK he v\as niu.
tering. "The old chap is as mad as a h.ti
ter. " , *
A whimsical smile hovered about Protes
sor Bachmann's lips. "It therejs any me
dium, mv dear Doctor, it is you.
"Me?"
"Yes. To be plain, the mummy you sent
me rose from his eotfin yonder and spoke to
me." , ,
"Crazy as a loon!" the doctor muttered.
"Poor old chap!" .
The professor sprang nervously to his teet,
exclaiming. uYou doubt! \\ oil.conic; though
perhaps the Ka may have departed with .
an uncongenial soul in the room.
Leigh-Mervyn followed Bachmann across
the room. Just as the professor had reached
the mummy case for the second time, he was
interrupted by a knock at the door, whKii
was at once opened by Oswald, at whose
heels were two strangers.
TWO gentlemen to see you. Sir. " Oswald
said, adding apologetically, "Ihev in
sisted on coming in. Sir. saying their busi
ness was urgent."
One of the strangers speaktng to his com
panion said. "That s Dr. Leigh-Mer\ \ n. ^
The doctor shot a surprised look ot recog
nition at the speaker, then greeted lam
with. -Hello. Constable McBride! What
are you doing so far iway from Little Ox
ford.'" - ?
"We've a warrant tor vour arrest. Doctor.^ ?
Leigh-Mervyn stared. "For what, pray.-'
he asked. ...
"For. the murder of your servant. We
found the pagan's body in the house just
where vou left it. , . ,
??Good God! my servant murdered?and
the body where I left it.-'
"Yes, packed away like a pair of old boots
in a clothes closet. \\ hen I opened the dooi
it fell out on me?gave me a nasty start, I
tell you." . ,
"But whv should I kill my own ser\ant.
It's madness!" ,
"Well, there was an inquest, an the jury ?
wasn't lunv. Xolxxiv but yourself could've
embalmed the body the way that poor
heathen was done up. We've been suspieu>u*
of vou. an' heariij' n< >body about the place we
broke in. If we hadn't done that that lxxly
would've stayed there for a thousand years
without makin' a smell. Nobody would \e
ever known."
"What are vou talking about.' 1 lie doc
tor was plainly mystified. "I embalmed the
bodv?"
McBride pointed at the mummy case.
"Yes. and there's the devilish box that you
did the black art in. What was it brought
to your house and away in a few da\ > tor,
and the murder done while it was there.'
McBride stepped toward the mummy
case; the doctor did; involuntarily the pro
fessor followed. ,
"It's circumstantial evidence, that s what
it is," McBride said in an official manner.
He threw the lid off. For an instant thev
all craned their necks; then McBride ened
out in fear, "Oh, my God!" and sprang back,
as Boodha, rising to a sitting posture, and
putting his hand to his forehead, said to the
doctor, "Salaam, Sahib! I was afraid, and
came bv this manner of means to your pro
tection.' With great care I put the one who
is dead in your closet."
Leigh-Mervvn turned to Constable Mc
Bride and said. "My dear constable, go
back to Little Oxford and tell its charming
citizens that they've held a postmortem on a
mutninv that's been dead two thousand
years. He may have been murdered; but
"I am not the murderer."