Prev | Current Page 208 | Next

Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"She"


Surely, I remember it as though it were but yesterday. Perchance they
are there, if none have found them, even to this hour. Of a truth I have
not entered this chamber from that time to this very day. Stay, I will
look," and, kneeling down, he groped about with his long arm in the
recess under the stone bench. Presently his face brightened, and with an
exclamation he pulled something forth which was caked in dust; which he
shook on to the floor. It was covered with the remains of a rotting rag,
which he undid, and revealed to my astonished gaze a beautifully shaped
and almost white woman's foot, looking as fresh and firm as though it
had but now been placed there.
"Thou seest, my son, the Baboon," he said, in a sad voice, "I spake the
truth to thee, for here is yet one foot remaining. Take it, my son, and
gaze upon it."
I took this cold fragment of mortality in my hand and looked at it in
the light of the lamp with feelings which I cannot describe, so mixed
up were they between astonishment, fear, and fascination.


Pages:
196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220