Эротические рассказы

The Ancient Allan. Генри Райдер ХаггардЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Ancient Allan - Генри Райдер Хаггард


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of Set or the Devil, the murderer of Osiris before his resurrection and ascent to Heaven to be the god of the dead.

      I need not set down afresh all that happened to us on this remarkable adventure. Suffice it to say that in the end we recovered the lady and that her mind was restored to her. Before she left the Kendah country, however, the priesthood presented her with two ancient rolls of papyrus, also with a quantity of a certain herb, not unlike tobacco in appearance, which by the Kendah was called Taduki. Once, before we took our great homeward journey across the desert, Lady Ragnall and I had a curious conversation about this herb whereof the property is to cause the person who inhales its fumes to become clairvoyant, or to dream dreams, whichever the truth may be. It was used for this purpose in the mystical ceremonies of the Kendah religion when under its influence the priestess or oracle of the Ivory Child was wont to announce divine revelations. During her tenure of this office Lady Ragnall was frequently subjected to the spell of the Taduki vapour, and said strange things, some of which I heard with my own ears. Also myself once I experienced its effects and saw a curious vision, whereof many of the particulars were afterwards translated into facts.

      Now the conversation which I have mentioned was shortly to the effect, that she, Lady Ragnall, believed a time would come when she or I or both of us, were destined to imbibe these Taduki fumes and see wonderful pictures of some past or future existence in which we were both concerned. This knowledge, she declared, had come to her while she was officiating in an apparently mindless condition as the priestess of the Kendah god called the Ivory Child.

      At the time I did not think it wise to pursue so exciting a subject with a woman whose mind had been recently unbalanced, and afterwards in the stress of new experiences, I forgot all about the matter, or at any rate only thought of it very rarely.

      Once, however, it did recur to me with some force. Shortly after I came to England to spend my remaining days far from the temptations of adventure, I was beguiled into becoming a steward of a Charity dinner and, what was worse, into attending the said dinner. Although its objects were admirable, it proved one of the most dreadful functions in which I was ever called upon to share. There was a vast number of people, some of them highly distinguished, who had come to support the Charity or to show off their Orders, I don’t know which, and others like myself, not at all distinguished, just common subscribers, who had no Orders and stood about the crowded room like waiters looking for a job.

      At the dinner, which was very bad, I sat at a table so remote that I could hear but little of the interminable speeches, which was perhaps fortunate for me. In these circumstances I drifted into conversation with my neighbour, a queer, wizened, black-bearded man who somehow or other had found out that I was acquainted with the wilder parts of Africa. He proved to be a wealthy scientist whose passion it was to study the properties of herbs, especially of such as grow in the interior of South America where he had been travelling for some years.

      Presently he mentioned a root named Yagé, known to the Indians which, when pounded up into a paste and taken in the form of pills, had the effect of enabling the patient to see events that were passing at a distance. Indeed he alleged that a vision thus produced had caused him to return home, since in it he saw that some relative of his, I think a twin-sister, was dangerously ill. In fact, however, he might as well have stayed away, as he only arrived in London on the day after her funeral.

      As I saw that he was really interested in the subject and observed that he was a very temperate man who did not seem to be romancing, I told him something of my experiences with Taduki, to which he listened with a kind of rapt but suppressed excitement. When I affected disbelief in the whole business, he differed from me almost rudely, asking why I rejected phenomena simply because I was too dense to understand them. I answered perhaps because such phenomena were inconvenient and upset one’s ideas. To this he replied that all progress involved the upsetting of existent ideas. Moreover he implored me, if the chance should ever come my way, to pursue experiments with Taduki fumes and let him know the results.

      Here our conversation came to an end for suddenly a band that was braying near by, struck up “God save the Queen,” and we hastily exchanged cards and parted. I only mention it because, had it not occurred, I think it probable that I should never have been in a position to write this history.

      The remarks of my acquaintance remained in my mind and influenced it so much that when the occasion came, I did as a kind of duty what, however much I was pressed, I am almost sure I should never have done for any other reason, just because I thought that I ought to take an opportunity of trying to discover what was the truth of the matter. As it chanced it was quick in coming.

      Here I should explain that I attended the dinner of which I have spoken not very long after a very lengthy absence from England, whither I had come to live when King Solomon’s Mines had made me rich. Therefore it happened that between the conclusion of my Kendah adventure some years before and this time I saw nothing and heard little of Lord and Lady Ragnall. Once a rumour did reach me, however, I think through Sir Henry Curtis or Captain Good, that the former had died as a result of an accident. What the accident was my informant did not know and as I was just starting on a far journey at the time, I had no opportunity of making inquiries. My talk with the botanical scientist determined me to do so; indeed a few days later I discovered from a book of reference that Lord Ragnall was dead, leaving no heir; also that his wife survived him.

      I was working myself up to write to her when one morning the postman brought me here at the Grange a letter which had “Ragnall Castle” printed on the flap of the envelope. I did not know the writing which was very clear and firm, for as it chanced, to the best of my recollection, I had never seen that of Lady Ragnall. Here is a copy of the letter it contained:

      “My dear Mr. Quatermain—Very strangely I have just seen at a

       meeting of the Horticultural Society, a gentleman who declares

       that a few days ago he sat next to you at some public dinner.

       Indeed I do not think there can be any doubt for he showed me your

       card which he had in his purse with a Yorkshire address upon it.

       “A dispute had arisen as to whether a certain variety of Crinum

       lily was first found in Africa, or Southern America. This

       gentleman, an authority upon South American flora, made a speech

       saying that he had never met with it there, but that an

       acquaintance of his, Mr. Quatermain, to whom he had spoken on the

       subject, said that he had seen something of the sort in the

       interior of Africa.” (This was quite true for I remembered the

       incident.) “At the tea which followed the meeting I spoke to this

       gentleman whose name I never caught, and to my astonishment learnt

       that he must have been referring to you whom I believed to be

       dead, for so we were told a long time ago. This seemed certain,

       for in addition to the evidence of the name, he described your

       personal appearance and told me that you had come to live in

       England.

       “My dear friend, I can assure you it is long since I heard anything

       which rejoiced me so much. Oh! as I write all the past comes back,

       flowing in upon me like a pent-up flood of water, but I trust that

       of this I shall soon have an opportunity of talking to you. So let

       it be for a while.

       “Alas! my friend, since we parted on the shores of the Red Sea,

       tragedy has pursued me. As you will know, for both my husband and

       I wrote to you, although you did not answer the letters” (I never

       received them), “we reached England safely and took up our old

       life again, though to tell you the truth, after my African

      


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