Come hither, thou
Harmachis, on whom Khem builded up her hope. Not in vain, then, have I
drawn thee from far away! Not in vain have I held my life in me till I
heard thy footfall creeping down these empty Holies, like the footfall
of a thief!"
"Oh! my father," I gasped, astonished. "Thou art blind: how knowest thou
me?"
"How do I know thee?--and askest thou that who hast learned of our lore?
Enough, I know thee and I brought thee hither. Would, Harmachis, that I
knew thee not! Would that I had been blasted of the Invisible ere I drew
thee down from the womb of Nout, to be my curse and shame, and the last
woe of Khem!"
"Oh, speak not thus!" I moaned; "is not my burden already more than I
can bear? Am I not myself betrayed and utterly outcast? Be pitiful, my
father!"
"Be pitiful!--be pitiful to thee who hast shown so great pity? It
was thy pity which gave up noble Sepa to die beneath the hands of the
tormentors!"
"Oh, not that--not that!" I cried.
"Ay, traitor, that!--to die in agony, with his last poor breath
proclaiming thee, his murderer, honest and innocent! Be pitiful to
thee, who gavest all the flower of Khem as the price of a wanton's
arms!--thinkest thou that, labouring in the darksome desert mines, those
noble ones in thought are pitiful to thee, Harmachis? Be pitiful to
thee, by whom this Holy Temple of Abouthis hath been ravaged, its lands
seized, its priests scattered, and I alone, old and withered, left to
count out its ruin--to thee, who hast poured the treasures of _Her_ into
thy leman's lap, who hast forsworn Thyself, thy Country, thy Birthright,
and thy Gods! Yea, thus am I pitiful: Accursed be thou, fruit of my
loins!--Shame be thy portion, Agony thy end, and Hell receive thee at
the last! Where art thou? Yea, I grew blind with weeping when I heard
the truth--sure, they strove to hide it from me.
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