Whatever change may come from the working of the Great Experiment,
there can come none from the poor, helpless, dead woman who has waited
all those centuries for this night; who has given up to the coming hour
all the freedom of eternity, won in the old way, in hope of a new life
in a new world such as she longed for...!”  She stopped suddenly. As
she had gone on speaking there had come with her words a strange
pathetic, almost pleading, tone which touched me to the quick. As she
stopped, I could see, before she turned away her head, that her eyes
were full of tears. For once the heart of her father did not respond to her feeling. He
looked exultant, but with a grim masterfulness which reminded me of the
set look of his stern face as he had lain in the trance. He did not
offer any consolation to his daughter in her sympathetic pain. He only
said:

“We may test the accuracy of your surmise, and of her feeling, when the
time comes!” Having said so, he went up the stone stairway and into his
own room. Margaret’s face had a troubled look as she gazed after him. Strangely enough her trouble did not as usual touch me to the quick. When Mr. Trelawny had gone, silence reigned. I do not think that any
of us wanted to talk. Presently Margaret went to her room, and I went
out on the terrace over the sea. The fresh air and the beauty of all
before helped to restore the good spirits which I had known earlier in
the day. Presently I felt myself actually rejoicing in the belief that
the danger which I had feared from the Queen’s violence on the coming
night was obviated. I believed in Margaret’s belief so thoroughly that
it did not occur to me to dispute her reasoning. In a lofty frame of
mind, and with less anxiety than I had felt for days, I went to my room
and lay down on the sofa. I was awaked by Corbeck calling to me, hurriedly:

“Come down to the cave as quickly as you can. Mr. Trelawny wants to
see us all there at once. Hurry!”

I jumped up and ran down to the cave. All were there except Margaret,
who came immediately after me carrying Silvio in her arms. When the
cat saw his old enemy he struggled to get down; but Margaret held him
fast and soothed him. I looked at my watch. It was close to eight. When Margaret was with us her father said directly, with a quiet
insistence which was new to me:

“You believe, Margaret, that Queen Tera has voluntarily undertaken to
give up her freedom for this night? To become a mummy and nothing
more, till the Experiment has been completed? To be content that she
shall be powerless under all and any circumstances until after all is
over and the act of resurrection has been accomplished, or the effort
has failed?”  After a pause Margaret answered in a low voice:

“Yes!”

In the pause her whole being, appearance, expression, voice, manner had
changed. Even Silvio noticed it, and with a violent effort wriggled
away from her arms; she did not seem to notice the act. I expected
that the cat, when he had achieved his freedom, would have attacked the
mummy; but on this occasion he did not. He seemed too cowed to
approach it. He shrunk away, and with a piteous “miaou” came over and
rubbed himself against my ankles. I took him up in my arms, and he
nestled there content. Mr. Trelawny spoke again:

“You are sure of what you say! You believe it with all your soul?”
Margaret’s face had lost the abstracted look; it now seemed illuminated
with the devotion of one to whom is given to speak of great things. She answered in a voice which, though quiet, vibrated with conviction:

“I know it! My knowledge is beyond belief!”  Mr. Trelawny spoke again:

“Then you are so sure, that were you Queen Tera herself, you would be
willing to prove it in any way that I might suggest?”

“Yes, any way!” the answer rang out fearlessly. He spoke again, in a
voice in which was no note of doubt:

“Even in the abandonment of your Familiar to death—to annihilation.”

She paused, and I could see that she suffered—suffered horribly. There was in her eyes a hunted look, which no man can, unmoved, see in
the eyes of his beloved. I was about to interrupt, when her father’s
eyes, glancing round with a fierce determination, met mine. I stood
silent, almost spellbound; so also the other men. Something was going
on before us which we did not understand! With a few long strides Mr. Trelawny went to the west side of the cave
and tore back the shutter which obscured the window. The cool air blew
in, and the sunlight streamed over them both, for Margaret was now by
his side. He pointed to where the sun was sinking into the sea in a
halo of golden fire, and his face was as set as flint. In a voice
whose absolute uncompromising hardness I shall hear in my ears at times
till my dying day, he said:

“Choose! Speak! When the sun has dipped below the sea, it will be too
late!”  The glory of the dying sun seemed to light up Margaret’s face,
till it shone as if lit from within by a noble light, as she answered:

“Even that!”

Then stepping over to where the mummy cat stood on the little table,
she placed her hand on it. She had now left the sunlight, and the
shadows looked dark and deep over her. In a clear voice she said:

“Were I Tera, I would say ‘Take all I have! This night is for the Gods
alone!’”

As she spoke the sun dipped, and the cold shadow suddenly fell on us. We all stood still for a while. Silvio jumped from my arms and ran
over to his mistress, rearing himself up against her dress as if asking
to be lifted. He took no notice whatever of the mummy now. Margaret was glorious with all her wonted sweetness as she said sadly:

“The sun is down, Father! Shall any of us see it again? The night of
nights is come!”




Chapter XIX

The Great Experiment


If any evidence had been wanted of how absolutely one and all of us had
come to believe in the spiritual existence of the Egyptian Queen, it
would have been found in the change which in a few minutes had been
effected in us by the statement of voluntary negation made, we all
believed, through Margaret. Despite the coming of the fearful ordeal,
the sense of which it was impossible to forget, we looked and acted as
though a great relief had come to us. We had indeed lived in such a
state of terrorism during the days when Mr. Trelawny was lying in a
trance that the feeling had bitten deeply into us. No one knows till
he has experienced it, what it is to be in constant dread of some
unknown danger which may come at any time and in any form. The change was manifested in different ways, according to each nature. Margaret was sad. Doctor Winchester was in high spirits, and keenly
observant; the process of thought which had served as an antidote to
fear, being now relieved from this duty, added to his intellectual
enthusiasm. Mr. Corbeck seemed to be in a retrospective rather than a
speculative mood. I was myself rather inclined to be gay; the relief
from certain anxiety regarding Margaret was sufficient for me for the
time.