Also it had a blue tinge, unlike any other he had ever seen. At first
it arose in a kind of fan or fountain at the far end of the hall,
illumining the steps there and the two noble colossi which sat above.
But what was this that stood at the head of the steps, radiating glory?
By heavens! it was Osiris himself or the image of Osiris, god of the
Dead, the Egyptian saviour of the world!
There he stood, in his mummy-cloths, wearing the feathered crown, and
holding in his hands, which projected from an opening in the wrappings,
the crook and the scourge of power. Was he alive, or was he dead? Smith
could not tell, since he never moved, only stood there, splendid and
fearful, his calm, benignant face staring into nothingness.
Smith became aware that the darkness between him and the vision of
this god was peopled; that a great congregation was gathering, or had
gathered there. The blue light began to grow; long tongues of it shot
forward, which joined themselves together, illumining all that huge
hall.
Now, too, he saw the congregation. Before him, rank upon rank of them,
stood the kings and queens of Egypt. As though at a given signal, they
bowed themselves to the Osiris, and ere the tinkling of their ornaments
had died away, lo! Osiris was gone.
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