"Isis who art beloved!
"Isis who art most holy!"I had at last, after terrible difficulties, succeeded in reaching the window; with infinite pain I struggled to my feet, but I could not stand: my head was heavy and my knees shook under me. Twice I fell down, but at the third struggle my hands convulsively fastened on the marble ledge, and steadying myself as best I could, I looked out, dazed, before me.
The sanctuary and the temple beyond it were one dazzling mass of lighted lamps and torches. The gossamer curtain had been drawn aside, and I could see the interminable vista of snow-white columns, on which the silver inlay glistened with a thousand sparks. Between the pillars, a sea of dark heads, adorned with gaily-coloured caps and kerchiefs, amongst which, occasionally, I caught sight of the glitter of a golden urseus, or elaborately jewelled belt…. I could distinguish no details: my eyes were blurred, my brain overclouded. I remember that gorgeous picture only as one remembers a dream.
Immediately before me Isis towered, wrapped in her sacred mantle, which hand of man has never dared to touch. On her head a gigantic pair of snow-white horns, between which glittered the silver disc of a huge full moon. Immediately at her feet a group of priests, with shaven crowns and long flowing robes of white, stood in a semi-circle, in the middle of which the high-priest of the goddess stood with arms outstretched, reciting the invocations.
Beneath the many hanging lamps, wherein burned lights of different colours, the other priests of the gods of Kamt were massed in imposing groups: the priests of Ra with yellow robes and leopard skins round their bodies: those of Phtah, with monstrous scarabæus of
