“And what are these, Paul?” asked Evelyn, opening a tarnished gold box
and examining its contents curiously.
“Seeds of some unknown Egyptian plant,” replied Forsyth, with a sudden
shadow on his dark face, as he looked down at the three scarlet grains
lying in the white hand lifted to him.
“Where did you get them?” asked the girl.
“That is a weird story, which will only haunt you if I tell it,” said
Forsyth, with an absent expression that strongly excited the girl’s
“Please tell it, I like weird tales, and they never trouble me. Ah, do tell it; your stories are always so interesting,” she cried, looking up with such a pretty blending of entreaty and command in her charming face, that refusal was impossible.
“You’ll be sorry for it, and so shall I, perhaps; I warn you
beforehand, that harm is foretold to the possessor of those mysterious seeds,” said Forsyth, smiling, even while he knit his black brows, and regarded the blooming creature before him with a fond yet foreboding glance.
“Tell on, I’m not afraid of these pretty atoms,” she answered, with an
“To hear is to obey. Let me read the facts, and then I will begin,”
returned Forsyth, pacing to and fro with the far-off look of one who
turns the pages of the past.
Evelyn watched him a moment, and then returned to her work, or play,
rather, for the task seemed well suited to the vivacious little
creature, half-child, half-woman.
“While in Egypt,” commenced Forsyth, slowly, “I went one day with my
guide and Professor Niles, to explore the Cheops. Niles had a mania
for antiquities of all sorts, and forgot time, danger and fatigue in
the ardor of his pursuit. We rummaged up and down the narrow passages,
half choked with dust and close air; reading inscriptions on the
walls, stumbling over shattered mummy-cases, or coming face to face
with some shriveled specimen perched like a hobgoblin on the little
shelves where the dead used to be stowed away for ages. I was
desperately tired after a few hours of it, and begged the professor to
return. But he was bent on exploring certain places, and would not
desist. We had but one guide, so I was forced to stay; but Jumal, my
man, seeing how weary I was, proposed to us to rest in one of the
larger passages, while he went to procure another guide for Niles. We
consented, and assuring us that we were perfectly safe, if we did not
quit the spot, Jumal left us, promising to return speedily. The
professor sat down to take notes of his researches, and stretching my
self on the soft sand, I fell asleep.
“I was roused by that indescribable thrill which instinctively warns
us of danger, and springing up, I found myself alone. One torch burned
faintly where Jumal had struck it, but Niles and the other light were
gone. A dreadful sense of loneliness oppressed me for a moment; then I
collected myself and looked well about me. A bit of paper was pinned
to my hat, which lay near me, and on it, in the professor’s writing
were these words:
“‘I’ve gone back a little to refresh my memory on certain points.
Don’t follow me till Jumal comes. I can find my way back to you, for I
have a clue. Sleep well, and dream gloriously of the Pharaohs. N N.’
“I laughed at first over the old enthusiast, then felt anxious then
restless, and finally resolved to follow him, for I discovered a
strong cord fastened to a fallen stone, and knew that this was the
clue he spoke of. Leaving a line for Jumal, I took my torch and
retraced my steps, following the cord along the winding ways. I often
shouted, but received no reply, and pressed on, hoping at each turn to
see the old man poring over some musty relic of antiquity. Suddenly
the cord ended, and lowering my torch, I saw that the footsteps had
“‘Rash fellow, he’ll lose himself, to a certainty,’ I thought, really
“As I paused, a faint call reached me, and I answered it, waited,
shouted again, and a still fainter echo replied.
“Niles was evidently going on, misled by the reverberations of the low
passages. No time was to be lost, and, forgetting myself, I stuck my
torch in the deep sand to guide me back to the clue, and ran down the
straight path before me, whooping like a madman as I went. I did not
mean to lose sight of the light, but in my eagerness to find Niles I
turned from the main passage, and, guided by his voice, hastened on.
His torch soon gladdened my eyes, and the clutch of his trembling
hands told me what agony he had suffered.
“‘Let us get out of this horrible place at once,’ he said, wiping the
great drops off his forehead.
“‘Come, we’re not far from the clue. I can soon reach it, and then we
are safe’; but as I spoke, a chill passed over me, for a perfect
labyrinth of narrow paths lay before us.
“Trying to guide myself by such land-marks as I had observed in my
hasty passage, I followed the tracks in the sand till I fancied we
must be near my light. No glimmer appeared, however, and kneeling down
to examine the footprints nearer, I discovered, to my dismay, that I
had been following the wrong ones, for among those marked by a deep
boot-heel, were prints of bare feet; we had had no guide there, and
Jumal wore sandals.
“Rising, I confronted Niles, with the one despairing word, ‘Lost!’ as
I pointed from the treacherous sand to the fast-waning light.
“I thought the old man would be overwhelmed but, to my surprise, he
grew quite calm and steady, thought a moment, and then went on,
“‘Other men have passed here before us; let us follow their steps,
for, if I do not greatly err, they lead toward great passages, where
one’s way is easily found.’
“On we went, bravely, till a misstep threw the professor violently to
the ground with a broken leg, and nearly extinguished the torch. It
was a horrible predicament, and I gave up all hope as I sat beside the
poor fellow, who lay exhausted with fatigue, remorse and pain, for I
would not leave him.
“‘Paul,’ he said suddenly, ‘if you will not go on, there is one more
effort we can make. I remember hearing that a party lost as we are,
saved themselves by building a fire. The smoke penetrated further than
sound or light, and the guide’s quick wit understood the unusual mist;
he followed it, and rescued the party. Make a fire and trust to
“‘A fire without wood?’ I began; but he pointed to a shelf behind me,
which had escaped me in the gloom; and on it I saw a slender mummy-
case. I understood him, for these dry cases, which lie about in
hundreds, are freely used as firewood. Reaching up, I pulled it down,
believing it to be empty, but as it fell, it burst open, and out
rolled a mummy. Accustomed as I was to such sights, it startled me a
little, for danger had unstrung my nerves. Laying the little brown
chrysalis aside, I smashed the case, lit the pile with my torch, and
soon a light cloud of smoke drifted down the three passages which
diverged from the cell-like place where we had paused.
“While busied with the fire, Niles, forgetful of pain and peril, had
dragged the mummy nearer, and was examining it with the interest of a
man whose ruling passion was strong even in death.
“‘Come and help me unroll this. I have always longed to be the first
to see and secure the curious treasures put away among the folds of
these uncanny winding-sheets. This is a woman, and we may find
something rare and precious here,’ he said, beginning to unfold the
outer coverings, from which a strange aromatic odor came.
“Reluctantly I obeyed, for to me there was something sacred in the
bones of this unknown woman. But to beguile the time and amuse the
poor fellow, I lent a hand, wondering as I worked, if this dark, ugly
thing had ever been a lovely, soft-eyed Egyptian girl.
“From the fibrous folds of the wrappings dropped precious gums and
spices, which half intoxicated us with their potent breath, antique
coins, and a curious jewel or two, which Niles eagerly examined.
“All the bandages but one were cut off at last, and a small head laid
bare, round which still hung great plaits of what had once been
luxuriant hair. The shriveled hands were folded on the breast, and
clasped in them lay that gold box.”
“Ah!” cried Evelyn, dropping it from her rosy palm with a shudder.
“Nay; don’t reject the poor little mummy’s treasure. I never have
quite forgiven myself for stealing it, or for burning her,” said
Forsyth, painting rapidly, as if the recollection of that experience
lent energy to his hand.
“Burning her! Oh, Paul, what do you mean?” asked the girl, sitting up
with a face full of excitement.
“I’ll tell you. While busied with Madame la Momie, our fire had burned
low, for the dry case went like tinder. A faint, far-off sound made
our hearts leap, and Niles cried out: ‘Pile on the wood; Jumal is
tracking us; don’t let the smoke fail now or we are lost!’
“‘There is no more wood; the case was very small, and is all gone,’ I
answered, tearing off such of my garments as would burn readily, and
piling them upon the embers.
“Niles did the same, but the light fabrics were quickly consumed, and
made no smoke.
“‘Burn that!’ commanded the professor, pointing to the mummy.
“I hesitated a moment. Again came the faint echo of a horn. Life was
dear to me. A few dry bones might save us, and I obeyed him in
“A dull blaze sprung up, and a heavy smoke rose from the burning
mummy, rolling in volumes through the low passages, and threatening to
suffocate us with its fragrant mist. My brain grew dizzy, the light
danced before my eyes, strange phantoms seemed to people the air, and,
in the act of asking Niles why he gasped and looked so pale, I lost
Evelyn drew a long breath, and put away the scented toys from her lap
as if their odor oppressed her.
Forsyth’s swarthy face was all aglow with the excitement of his story,
and his black eyes glittered as he added, with a quick laugh:
“That’s all; Jumal found and got us out, and we both forswore pyramids
for the rest of our days.”
“But the box: how came you to keep it?” asked Evelyn, eyeing it
askance as it lay gleaming in a streak of sunshine.
“Oh, I brought it away as a souvenir, and Niles kept the other
“But you said harm was foretold to the possessor of those scarlet
seeds,” persisted the girl, whose fancy was excited by the tale, and
who fancied all was not told.
“Among his spoils, Niles found a bit of parchment, which he
deciphered, and this inscription said that the mummy we had so
ungallantly burned was that of a famous sorceress who bequeathed her
curse to whoever should disturb her rest. Of course I don’t believe
that curse has anything to do with it, but it’s a fact that Niles
never prospered from that day. He says it’s because he has never
recovered from the fall and fright and I dare say it is so; but I
sometimes wonder if I am to share the curse, for I’ve a vein of
superstition in me, and that poor little mummy haunts my dreams
A long silence followed these words. Paul painted mechanically and
Evelyn lay regarding him with a thoughtful face. But gloomy fancies
were as foreign to her nature as shadows are to noonday, and presently
she laughed a cheery laugh, saying as she took up the box again:
“Why don’t you plant them, and see what wondrous flower they will
“I doubt if they would bear anything after lying in a mummy’s hand for
centuries,” replied Forsyth, gravely.
“Let me plant them and try. You know wheat has sprouted and grown that
was taken from a mummy’s coffin; why should not these pretty seeds? I
should so like to watch them grow; may I, Paul?”
“No, I’d rather leave that experiment untried. I have a queer feeling
about the matter, and don’t want to meddle myself or let anyone I love
meddle with these seeds. They may be some horrible poison, or possess
some evil power, for the sorceress evidently valued them, since she
clutched them fast even in her tomb.”
“Now, you are foolishly superstitious, and I laugh at you. Be
generous; give me one seed, just to learn if it will grow. See I’ll
pay for it,” and Evelyn, who now stood beside him, dropped a kiss on
his forehead as she made her request, with the most engaging air.
But Forsyth would not yield. He smiled and returned the embrace with
lover-like warmth, then flung the seeds into the fire, and gave her
back the golden box, saying, tenderly:
“My darling, I’ll fill it with diamonds or bonbons, if you please, but
I will not let you play with that witch’s spells. You’ve enough of
your own, so forget the ‘pretty seeds’ and see what a Light of the
Harem I’ve made of you.”
Evelyn frowned, and smiled, and presently the lovers were out in the
spring sunshine reveling in their own happy hopes, untroubled by one
“I have a little surprise for you, love,” said Forsyth, as he greeted
his cousin three months later on the morning of his wedding day.
“And I have one for you,” she answered, smiling faintly.
“How pale you are, and how thin you grow! All this bridal bustle is
too much for you, Evelyn.” he said, with fond anxiety, as he watched
the strange pallor of her face, and pressed the wasted little hand in his.
“I am so tired,” she said, and leaned her head wearily on her lover’s
breast. “Neither sleep, food, nor air gives me strength, and a curious
mist seems to cloud my mind at times. Mamma says it is the heat, but I
shiver even in the sun, while at night I burn with fever. Paul, dear,
I’m glad you are going to take me away to lead a quiet, happy life
with you, but I’m afraid it will be a very short one.”
“My fanciful little wife! You are tired and nervous with all this
worry, but a few weeks of rest in the country will give us back our
blooming Eve again. Have you no curiosity to learn my surprise?” he
asked, to change her thoughts.
The vacant look stealing over the girl’s face gave place to one of
interest, but as she listened it seemed to require an effort to fix
her mind on her lover’s words.
“You remember the day we rummaged in the old cabinet?”
“Yes,” and a smile touched her lips for a moment.
“And how you wanted to plant those queer red seeds I stole from the
“I remember,” and her eyes kindled with sudden fire.
“Well, I tossed them into the fire, as I thought, and gave you the
box. But when I went back to cover up my picture, and found one of
those seeds on the rug, a sudden fancy to gratify your whim led me to
send it to Niles and ask him to plant and report on its progress.
Today I hear from him for the first time, and he reports that the seed
has grown marvelously, has budded, and that he intends to take the
first flower, if it blooms in time, to a meeting of famous scientific
men, after which he will send me its true name and the plant itself.
From his description, it must be very curious, and I’m impatient to
“You need not wait; I can show you the flower in its bloom,” and
Evelyn beckoned with the mechante smile so long a stranger to her
Much amazed, Forsyth followed her to her own little boudoir, and
there, standing in the sunshine, was the unknown plant. Almost rank in
their luxuriance were the vivid green leaves on the slender purple
stems, and rising from the midst, one ghostly-white flower, shaped
like the head of a hooded snake, with scarlet stamens like forked
tongues, and on the petals glittered spots like dew.
“A strange, uncanny flower! Has it any odor?” asked Forsyth, bending
to examine it, and forgetting, in his interest, to ask how it came
“None, and that disappoints me, I am so fond of perfumes,” answered
the girl, caressing the green leaves which trembled at her touch,
while the purple stems deepened their tint.
“Now tell me about it,” said Forsyth, after standing silent for
“I had been before you, and secured one of the seeds, for two fell on
the rug. I planted it under a glass in the richest soil I could find,
watered it faithfully, and was amazed at the rapidity with which it
grew when once it appeared above the earth. I told no-one, for I meant
to surprise you with it; but this bud has been so long in blooming, I
have had to wait. It is a good omen that it blossoms today, and as it
is nearly white, I mean to wear it, for I’ve learned to love it,
having been my pet for so long.”
“I would not wear it, for, in spite of its innocent color, it is an
evil-looking plant, with its adder’s tongue and unnatural dew. Wait
till Niles tells us what it is, then pet it if it is harmless.”
“Perhaps my sorceress cherished it for some symbolic beauty–those old
Egyptians were full of fancies. It was very sly of you to turn the
tables on me in this way. But I forgive you, since in a few hours, I
shall chain this mysterious hand forever. How cold it is! Come out
into the garden and get some warmth and color for tonight, my love.”
But when night came, no-one could reproach the girl with her pallor,
for she glowed like a pomegranate-flower, her eyes were full of fire,
her lips scarlet, and all her old vivacity seemed to have returned. A
more brilliant bride never blushed under a misty veil, and when her
lover saw her, he was absolutely startled by the almost unearthly
beauty which transformed the pale, languid creature of the morning
into this radiant woman.
They were married, and if love, many blessings, and all good gifts
lavishly showered upon them could make them happy, then this young
pair were truly blest. But even in the rapture of the moment that made
her his, Forsyth observed how icy cold was the little hand he held,
how feverish the deep color on the soft cheek he kissed, and what a
strange fire burned in the tender eyes that looked so wistfully at
Blithe and beautiful as a spirit, the smiling bride played her part in
all the festivities of that long evening, and when at last light, life
and color began to fade, the loving eyes that watched her thought it
but the natural weariness of the hour. As the last guest departed,
Forsyth was met by a servant, who gave him a letter marked “Haste.”
Tearing it open, he read these lines, from a friend of the
“DEAR SIR–Poor Niles died suddenly two days ago, while at the
Scientific Club, and his last words were: ‘Tell Paul Forsyth to beware
of the Mummy’s Curse, for this fatal flower has killed me.’ The
circumstances of his death were so peculiar, that I add them as a
sequel to this message. For several months, as he told us, he had been
watching an unknown plant, and that evening he brought us the flower
to examine. Other matters of interest absorbed us till a late hour,
and the plant was forgotten. The professor wore it in his buttonhole–
a strange white, serpent-headed blossom, with pale glittering spots,
which slowly changed to a glittering scarlet, till the leaves looked
as if sprinkled with blood. It was observed that instead of the pallor
and feebleness which had recently come over him, that the professor
was unusually animated, and seemed in an almost unnatural state of
high spirits. Near the close of the meeting, in the midst of a lively
discussion, he suddenly dropped, as if smitten with apoplexy. He was
conveyed home insensible, and after one lucid interval, in which he
gave me the message I have recorded above, he died in great agony,
raving of mummies, pyramids, serpents, and some fatal curse which had
fallen upon him.
“After his death, livid scarlet spots, like those on the flower,
appeared upon his skin, and he shriveled like a withered leaf. At my
desire, the mysterious plant was examined, and pronounced by the best
authority one of the most deadly poisons known to the Egyptian
sorceresses. The plant slowly absorbs the vitality of whoever
cultivates it, and the blossom, worn for two or three hours, produces
either madness or death.”
Down dropped the paper from Forsyth’s hand; he read no further, but
hurried back into the room where he had left his young wife. As if
worn out with fatigue, she had thrown herself upon a couch, and lay
there motionless, her face half-hidden by the light folds of the veil,
which had blown over it.
“Evelyn, my dearest! Wake up and answer me. Did you wear that strange
flower today?” whispered Forsyth, putting the misty screen away.
There was no need for her to answer, for there, gleaming spectrally on
her bosom, was the evil blossom, its white petals spotted now with
flecks of scarlet, vivid as drops of newly spilt blood.
But the unhappy bridegroom scarcely saw it, for the face above it
appalled him by its utter vacancy. Drawn and pallid, as if with some
wasting malady, the young face, so lovely an hour ago, lay before him
aged and blighted by the baleful influence of the plant which had
drunk up her life. No recognition in the eyes, no word upon the lips,
no motion of the hand–only the faint breath, the fluttering pulse,
and wide-opened eyes, betrayed that she was alive.
Alas for the young wife! The superstitious fear at which she had
smiled had proved true: the curse that had bided its time for ages was
fulfilled at last, and her own hand wrecked her happiness for ever.
Death in life was her doom, and for years Forsyth secluded himself to
tend with pathetic devotion the pale ghost, who never, by word or
look, could thank him for the love that outlived even such a fate as
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