the closing of the great gallery had come. Still I stood and gazed and
dreamt till the policeman on duty, seeing and suspecting me, came up and
roughly ordered me to begone.

The man's tone angered me. I laid my hand on the foot of the statue, for
it had just come back to me that it was a "Ka" image, a sacred thing,
any Egyptologist will know what I mean, which for ages had sat in a
chamber of my tomb. Then the Ka that clings to it eternally awoke at my
touch and knew me, or so I suppose. At least I felt myself change. A new
strength came into me; my shape, battered in this world's storms, put on
something of its ancient dignity; my eyes grew royal. I looked at that
man as Pharaoh may have looked at one who had done him insult. He saw
the change and trembled--yes, trembled. I believe he thought I was some
imperial ghost that the shadows of evening had caused him to mistake for
man; at any rate he gasped out--

"I beg your pardon, I was obeying orders. I hope your Majesty won't hurt
me. Now I think of it I have been told that things come out of these old
statues in the night."

Then turning he ran, literally ran, where to I am sure I do not know,
probably to seek the fellowship of some other policeman. In due course I
followed, and, lifting the bar at the end of the hall, departed without
further question asked. Afterwards I was very glad to think that I had
done the man no injury. At the moment I knew that I could hurt him if
I would, and what is more I had the desire to do so. It came to me, I
suppose, with that breath of the past when I was so great and absolute.
Perhaps I, or that part of me then incarnate, was a tyrant in those
days, and this is why now I must be so humble. Fate is turning my pride
to its hammer and beating it out of me.