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rare granite that gleams like marble。 They are entirely without
ornament。 It is necessary to look closely to distinguish on the smooth
walls the hieroglyphic inscriptions； the rows of little figures；
little owls； little jackals； that tell in a lost language the history
of ancient peoples。 Here is the signature of King Amasis； beyond； that
of King Cambyses。 。 。 。 Who were the Titans who； century after
century； were able to hew these coffins （they are at least twelve feet
long by ten feet high）； and； having hewn them； to carry them
underground （they weigh on an average between sixty and seventy tons）；
and finally to range them in rows here in these strange chambers；
where they stand as if in ambuscade on either side of us as we pass？
Each in its turn has contained quite comfortably the mummy of a bull
Apis； armoured in plates of gold。 But in spite of their weight； in
spite of their solidity which effectively defies destruction； they
have been despoiled＇*＇when is not precisely known； probably by the
soldiers of the King of Persia。 And this notwithstanding that merely
to open them represents a labour of astonishing strength and patience。
In some cases the thieves have succeeded； by the aid of levers； in
moving a few inches the formidable lid； in others； by persevering with
blows of pickaxes； they have pierced； in the thickness of the granite；
a hole through which a man has been enabled to crawl like a rat； or a
worm； and then； groping his way； to plunder the sacred mummy。
＇*＇ One； however； remains intact in the walled cavern； and thus
preserves for us the only Apis which has come down to our days。
And one recalls the emotion of Mariette； when； on entering it； he
saw on the sandy ground the imprint of the naked feet of the last
Egyptian who left it thirty…seven centuries before。
What strikes us most of all in the colossal hypogeum is the meeting
there； in the middle of the stairway by which we leave； with yet
another black coffin； which lies across our path as if to bar it。 It
is as monstrous and as simple as the others； its seniors； which many
centuries before； as the deified bulls died； had commenced to line the
great straight thoroughfare。 But this one has never reached its place
and never held its mummy。 It was the last。 Even while men were slowly
rolling it； with tense muscles and panting cries； towards what might
well have seemed its eternal chamber； others gods were born； and the
cult of the Apis had come to an endsuddenly； then and there！ Such a
fate may happen indeed to each and all of the religions and
institutions of men； even to those most deeply rooted in their hearts
and their ancestral past。 。 。 。 That perhaps is the most disturbing of
all our positive notions： to know that there will be a /last/ of all
things； not only a last temple； and a last priest； but a last birth of
a human child； a last sunrise； a last day。 。 。 。
*****
In these hot catacombs we had forgotten the cold wind that blew
outside； and the physiognomy of the Memphite desert； the aspects of
horror that were awaiting us above had vanished from our mind。
Sinister as it is under a blue sky； this desert becomes absolutely
intolerable to look upon if by chance the sky is cloudy when the
daylight fails。
On our return to it； from the subterranean darkness； everything in its
dead immensity has begun to take on the blue tint of the night。 On the
top of the sandhills； of which the yellow colour has greatly paled
since we went below； the wind amuses itself by raising little vortices
of sand that imitate the spray of an angry sea。 On all sides dark
clouds stretch themselves as at the moment of our descent。 The horizon
detaches itself more and more clearly from them； and； farther towards
the east； it actually seems to be tilted up； one of the highest of the
waves of this waterless sea； a mountain of sand whose soft contours
are deceptive in the distance； makes it look as if it sloped towards
us； so as almost to produce a sensation of vertigo。 The sun itself has
deigned to remain on the scene a few seconds longer； held beyond its
time by the effect of mirage； but it is so changed behind its thick
veils that we would prefer that it should not be there。 Of the colour
of dying embers； it seems too near and too large； it has ceased to
give any light； and is become a mere rose…coloured globe； that is
losing its shape and becoming oval。 No longer in the free heavens； but
stranded there on the extreme edge of the desert； it watches the scene
like a large dull eye； about to close itself in death。 And the
mysterious superhuman triangles； they too； of course； are there；
waiting for us on our return from underground； some near； some far；
posted in their eternal places； but surely they have grown gradually
more blue。 。 。 。
Such a night； in such a place； it seems the /last/ night。
CHAPTER VII
THE OUTSKIRTS OF CAIRO
Night。 A long straight road； the artery of some capital； through which
our carriage drives at a fast trot； making a deafening clatter on the
pavement。 Electric light everywhere。 The shops are closing； it must
needs be late。
The road is Levantine in its general character； and we should have no
clear notion of the place did we not see in our rapid； noisy passage
signs that recall us to the land of the Arabs。 People pass dressed in
the long robe and tarboosh of the East； and some of the houses； above
the European shops； are ornamented with mushrabiyas。 But this blinding
electricity strikes a false note。 In our hearts are we quite sure we
are in the East？
The road ends； opening on to darkness。 Suddenly； without any warning；
it abuts upon a void in which the eyes see nothing； and we roll over a
yielding； felted soil； where all noise abruptly ceasesit is the
/desert/！ 。 。 。 Not a vague； nondescript stretch of country such as in
the outskirts of our towns； not one of the solitudes of Europe； but
the threshold of the vast desolations of Arabia。 /The desert/； and；
even if we had not known that it was awaiting us； we should have
recognised it by the indescribable quality of harshness and uniqueness
which； in spite of the darkness； cannot be mistaken。
But the night after all is not so black。 It only seemed so； at the
first moment； by contrast with the glaring illumination of the street。
In reality it is transparent and blue。 A half…moon； high up in the
heavens； and veiled by a diaphanous mist； shines gently； and as it is
an Egyptian moon； more subtle than ours； it leaves to things a little
of their colour。 We can see now； as well as feel； this desert； which
has opened and imposed its silence upon us。 Before us is the paleness
of its sands and the reddish…brown of its dead rocks。 Verily； in no
country but Egypt are there such rapid surprises： to issue from a
street flanked by shops and stalls and； without transition； to find
this！ 。 。 。
Our horses have； inevitably； to slacken speed as the wheels of our
carriage sink into the sand。 Around us still are some stray ramblers；
who presently assume the air of ghosts； with their long black or white
draperies； and noiseless tread。 And then； not a soul； nothing but the
sand and the moon。
But now almost at once； after the short intervening nothingness； we
find ourselves in a new town； streets with little low houses； little
cross…roads； little squares； all of them white； on whitened sands；
beneath a white moon。 。 。 。 But there is no electricity in this town；
no lights； and nobody is stirring； doors and windows are shut： no
movement of any kind； and the silence； at first； is like that of the
surrounding desert。 It is a town in which the half…light of the moon；
amongst so much vague whiteness； is diffused in such a way that it
seems to come from all sides at once and things cast no shadows which
might give them definiteness； a town where the soil is so yielding
that our progress is weakened and retarded； as in dreams。 It seems
unreal； and； in penetrating farther into it； a sense of fear comes
over you that can neither be dismissed nor defined。
For assuredly this is no ordinary town。 。 。 。 And yet the houses； with
their windows barred like those of a harem； are in no way singular
except that they are shut and silent。 It is all this whiteness；
perhaps； which freezes us。 And then； too； the silence is not； in fact；
like that of the desert； which did at least seem natural； inasmuch as
there was nothing there； here； on the contrary； there is a sense of
innumerable presences； which shrink away as you pass but nevertheless
continue to watch attentively。 。 。 。 We pass mosques in total darkness
and they too are silent and white； with a slight bluish tint cast on
them by the moon。 And sometimes； between the houses； there are little
enclosed spaces； like narrow gardens； but which can have no possible
verdure。 And in these gardens numbers of little obelisks rise from the
sandwhit