Page:Weird Tales Volume 3 Number 2 (1923-02).djvu/35

34 ly and laughed at the pain I knew I was bringing to him. He had brought pain to my heart. He begged, pleaded, entreated, but I watched him smilingly—watched him until he fell with a shrieking curse flung from his lips. I watched him fall—fall and then crash upon the jagged rocks below.

"I had far to go before I could reach the cabin where he had left her. I knew she would be awaiting his return as she had once awaited mine. Night had fallen before I reached the cabin.

"A light gleamed from the tiny window of the log-built cabin. I saw this light gleaming through the openings among the massive trees long before I reached their love-nest. It was her beacon light, the light that would guide him to her. Did she long for his coming as I had thought she longed for mine in the days of my happiness?

"Approaching in silence, I crept close to the cabin wall. I peered through the window. She was there, nervously pacing back and forth across the tiny room. The light of the fire burning in the open fireplace painted her—painted her scarlet.

"Noiselessly, I opened the door, but she saw me almost as I entered the room. She did not scream, but her face grew white and she trembled and swayed as a slender tree sways before the rush of storm.

"My eyes drank in all her splendid beauty, but my heart did not quicken as it had in those days when I had possessed her. It beat with the slow, dull throb of the heart of a wounded beast, I was strangely calm.

"Her lips parted as though she would speak, but there was no sound issuing from them. I saw her tongue make the effort to moisten them, but they remained dry, pallid.

"Slowly I approached her. She shrank from me until she was backed against the wall of the cabin, I reached forth and grasped her arm. It was cold; I could feel the tremor of fear at my touch.

I have come,' was all that I said.

What—what are you going to do?" she faltered, shrinking from me,

"I did not answer. My other hand sought her free arm, and as I grasped it, I could feel her flesh quiver under my clasp. I drew her to me and looked at the stark naked fear in her eyes.

"There was a crude bunk builded in one corner of the cabin; an upright post, ran from its corner from the floor to roof. Clasping both of her arms within the grip of one of my hands, I loosened my belt, forcing the fear-ridden woman slowly toward the bunk. I bound her with the leathern belt tightly to the post.

"When she was securely bound, I reached forth and pulled the clothing from her quivering body. Deliberately, ruthlessly, I stripped every vestige of covering from her. She stood before me, her glistening white flesh shrinking from my touch, I could hear the rattle in her throat as she made an effort to cry out.

"I had planned all that I would do. My hand sought the sheath-knife that I wore in my belt. Slowly I drew it from its sheath, I tested its point with my finger. The steel felt cool beneath my touch.

"Again my eyes sought those of the woman standing helplessly before me, She flinched under my glance and then there broke from her lips a torrent of prayers—of entreaties—and finally she it. She had fainted.

"I set to work rapidly. There upon her tender flesh I began carefully to carve my name. She was mine, and upon her I would place my mark of ownership. None other could have her without the knowledge that she belonged to another man.

"As my knife bit into her flesh, she recovered from her swoon, but under the sting of pain she again collapsed. During her conscious moment, I told her of what I intended to do.

"Carefully, slowly, taking all pains that my knife did not bite too deeply, I carved my name upon the fair flesh beneath her firm, rounded breasts. The crimson blood flowed steadily downward making branching paths upon the white skin.

"These are the words I left engraved with all my skill upon the woman to whom I had given my name and who could never belong to another. Blood! Blood on white flesh! The blood of my name!" screamed Number 47, crouching shiveringly in the corner of his cell.

"Poor devil," muttered Bill Waterman, "We'll have to put a colored glass in the window. He’s always worse when he sees red."

 

ROF. JAMES HENRY BREASTED of the University of Chicago, renowned Orientalist, is sailing to visit again the tomb of King Tutankhamen. He will join Howard Carter, who is already in the Valley of the Kings as head of the second Carnarvon expedition.

Dr. Breasted has gone as head of an organization sent out by the Oriental institute of the University of Chicago. The expedition will seek for new details of the ancient doctrines, and beliefs of the 4,000-year-old religion of Egyptian feudalism. It is planned to make hand copies of the Egyptian hieroglyphics found inscribed on the inner surfaces of the sides and top of the old feudal coffins. These texts contain religious beliefs prevalent in Egypt at 2000 B. C., according to Prof. Breasted.

"These texts were originally supplied to the coffinmakers by the Egyptian priests some 4,000 years ago," Prof. Breasted said. "Scribes filled the inner surfaces of the coffins with pen and ink copies of all the available texts.

"However, these texts are often inaccurate. It is found that the same chapter may have been repeated in one coffin from three to five times. Even in the repetition there are found to be discrepancies in copying. These are of no scientific value until they have all been collected, sorted and published as a whole."

The expedition will go from Cairo up the Nile and then through the Sinaitic peninsula, where it is hoped to find some rare specimens of the coffin texts for the oriental institute collection of the University of Chicago. No excavations will be made during the trip, Prof. Breasted said.