The Jewel of Seven Stars, Bram Stoker [books to read for self improvement txt] 📗

Chapter X The Valley of the Sorcerer

I placed the book on the little table on which the shaded lamp rested

and moved the screen to one side. Thus I could have the light on my

book; and by looking up, see the bed, and the Nurse, and the door. I

cannot say that the conditions were enjoyable, or calculated to allow of

that absorption in the subject which is advisable for effective study.

However, I composed myself to the work as well as I could. The book was

one which, on the very face of it, required special attention. It was a

folio in Dutch, printed in Amsterdam in 1650. Some one had made a

literal translation, writing generally the English word under the Dutch,

so that the grammatical differences between the two tongues made even

the reading of the translation a difficult matter. One had to dodge

backward and forward among the words. This was in addition to the

difficulty of deciphering a strange handwriting of two hundred years

ago. I found, however, that after a short time I got into the habit of

following in conventional English the Dutch construction; and, as I

became more familiar with the writing, my task became easier.

 

At first the circumstances of the room, and the fear lest Miss Trelawny

should return unexpectedly and find me reading the book, disturbed me

somewhat. For we had arranged amongst us, before Doctor Winchester had

gone home, that she was not to be brought into the range of the coming

investigation. We considered that there might be some shock to a

woman’s mind in matters of apparent mystery; and further, that she,

being Mr. Trelawny’s daughter, might be placed in a difficult position

with him afterward if she took part in, or even had a personal knowledge

of, the disregarding of his expressed wishes. But when I remembered

that she did not come on nursing duty till two o’clock, the fear of

interruption passed away. I had still nearly three house before me.

Nurse Kennedy sat in her chair by the bedside, patient and alert. A

clock ticked on the landing; other clocks in the house ticked; the life

of the city without manifested itself in the distant hum, now and again

swelling into a roar as a breeze floating westward took the concourse of

sounds with it. But still the dominant idea was of silence. The light

on my book, and the soothing fringe of green silk round the shade

intensified, whenever I looked up, the gloom of the sick-room. With

every line I read, this seemed to grow deeper and deeper; so that when

my eyes came back to the page the light seemed to dazzle me. I stuck to

my work, however, and presently began to get sufficiently into the

subject to become interested in it.

 

The book was by one Nicholas van Huyn of Hoorn. In the preface he told

how, attracted by the work of John Greaves of Merton College,

Pyramidographia, he himself visited Egypt, where he became so interested

in its wonders that he devoted some years of his life to visiting

strange places, and exploring the ruins of many temples and tombs. He

had come across many variants of the story of the building of the

Pyramids as told by the Arabian historian, Ibn Abd Alhokin, some of

which he set down. These I did not stop to read, but went on to the

marked pages.

 

As soon as I began to read these, however, there grew on me some sense

of a disturbing influence. Once or twice I looked to see if the Nurse

had moved, for there was a feeling as though some one were near me.

Nurse Kennedy sat in her place, as steady and alert as ever; and I came

back to my book again.

 

The narrative went on to tell how, after passing for several days

through the mountains to the east of Aswan, the explorer came to a

certain place. Here I give his own words, simply putting the

translation into modern English:

 

“Toward evening we came to the entrance of a narrow, deep valley,

running east and west. I wished to proceed through this; for the sun,

now nearly down on the horizon, showed a wide opening beyond the

narrowing of the cliffs. But the fellaheen absolutely refused to enter

the valley at such a time, alleging that they might be caught by the

night before they could emerge from the other end. At first they would

give no reason for their fear. They had hitherto gone anywhere I

wished, and at any time, without demur. On being pressed, however, they

said that the place was the Valley of the Sorcerer, where none might

come in the night. On being asked to tell of the Sorcerer, they

refused, saying that there was no name, and that they knew nothing. On

the next morning, however, when the sun was up and shining down the

valley, their fears had somewhat passed away. Then they told me that a

great Sorcerer in ancient days—‘millions of millions of years’ was the

term they used—a King or a Queen, they could not say which, was buried

there. They could not give the name, persisting to the last that there

was no name; and that anyone who should name it would waste away in life

so that at death nothing of him would remain to be raised again in the

Other World. In passing through the valley they kept together in a

cluster, hurrying on in front of me. None dared to remain behind. They

gave, as their reason for so proceeding, that the arms of the Sorcerer

were long, and that it was dangerous to be the last. The which was of

little comfort to me who of this necessity took that honourable post.

In the narrowest part of the valley, on the south side, was a great

cliff of rock, rising sheer, of smooth and even surface. Hereon were

graven certain cabalistic signs, and many figures of men and animals,

fishes, reptiles and birds; suns and stars; and many quaint symbols.

Some of these latter were disjointed limbs and features, such as arms

and legs, fingers, eyes, noses, ears, and lips. Mysterious symbols

which will puzzle the Recording Angel to interpret at the Judgment Day.

The cliff faced exactly north. There was something about it so strange,

and so different from the other carved rocks which I had visited, that I

called a halt and spent the day in examining the rock front as well as I

could with my telescope. The Egyptians of my company were terribly

afraid, and used every kind of persuasion to induce me to pass on. I

stayed till late in the afternoon, by which time I had failed to make

out aright the entry of any tomb, for I suspected that such was the

purpose of the sculpture of the rock. By this time the men were

rebellious; and I had to leave the valley if I did not wish my whole

retinue to desert. But I secretly made up my mind to discover the tomb,

and explore it. To this end I went further into the mountains, where I

met with an Arab Sheik who was willing to take service with me. The

Arabs were not bound by the same superstitious fears as the Egyptians;

Sheik Abu Some and his following were willing to take a part in the

explorations.

 

“When I returned to the valley with these Bedouins, I made effort to

climb the face of the rock, but failed, it being of one impenetrable

smoothness. The stone, generally flat and smooth by nature, had been

chiselled to completeness. That there had been projecting steps was

manifest, for there remained, untouched by the wondrous climate of that

strange land, the marks of saw and chisel and mallet where the steps had

been cut or broken away.

 

“Being thus baffled of winning the tomb from below, and being unprovided

with ladders to scale, I found a way by much circuitous journeying to

the top of the cliff. Thence I caused myself to be lowered by ropes,

till I had investigated that portion of the rock face wherein I expected

to find the opening. I found that there was an entrance, closed however

by a great stone slab. This was cut in the rock more than a hundred

feet up, being two-thirds the height of the cliff. The hieroglyphic and

cabalistic symbols cut in the rock were so managed as to disguise it.

The cutting was deep, and was continued through the rock and the portals

of the doorway, and through the great slab which formed the door itself.

This was fixed in place with such incredible exactness that no stone

chisel or cutting implement which I had with me could find a lodgment in

the interstices. I used much force, however; and by many heavy strokes

won a way into the tomb, for such I found it to be. The stone door

having fallen into the entrance I passed over it into the tomb, noting

as I went a long iron chain which hung coiled on a bracket close to the

doorway.

 

“The tomb I found to be complete, after the manner of the finest

Egyptian tombs, with chamber and shaft leading down to the corridor,

ending in the Mummy Pit. It had the table of pictures, which seems some

kind of record—whose meaning is now for ever lost—graven in