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Ayesha by Allan Quartermain

Ayesha by Allan Quartermain

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Published by: uprichukalaa on Dec 05, 2010
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AyeshaThe Further History of She-Who-Must-Be-ObeyedAuthor: H. Rider HaggardRelease Date: April 22, 2006 [EBook #5228]Language: EnglishCharacter set encoding: ASCII*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AYESHA ***Produced by David Moynihan; Dagny; John BickersAYESHATHE RETURN OF SHEBy H. Rider Haggard"Here ends this history so far as it concerns science and theoutside world. What its end will be as regards Leo and myself ismore than I can guess. But we feel that it is not reached. . . .Often I sit alone at night, staring with the eyes of my mind intothe blackness of unborn time, and wondering in what shape and formthe great drama will be finally developed, and where the scene of its next act will be laid. And when, ultimately, that _final_ development occurs, as I have no doubt it must and will occur, inobedience to a fate that never swerves and a purpose which cannotbe altered, what will be the part played therein by that beautifulEgyptian Amenar-tas, the Princess of the royal house of thePharaohs, for the love of whom the priest Kallikrates broke hisvows to Isis, and, pursued by the vengeance of the outragedgoddess, fled down the coast of Lybia to meet his doom at Kor?"--_She_, Silver Library Edition, p. 277.
 
DEDICATIONMy dear Lang,The appointed years--alas! how many of them--are gone by, leaving Ayeshalovely and loving and ourselves alive. As it was promised in the Cavesof Kor _She_ has returned again.To you therefore who accepted the first, I offer this further history of one of the various incarnations of that Immortal.My hope is that after you have read her record, notwithstanding her subtleties and sins and the shortcomings of her chronicler (no easyoffice!) you may continue to wear your chain of "loyalty to our ladyAyesha." Such, I confess, is still the fate of your old friendH. RIDER HAGGARD.DITCHINGHAM, 1905.AUTHOR'S NOTE Not with a view of conciliating those readers who on principle object tosequels, but as a matter of fact, the Author wishes to say that he doesnot so regard this book.Rather does he venture to ask that it should be considered as theconclusion of an imaginative tragedy (if he may so call it) whereof onehalf has been already published.This conclusion it was always his desire to write should he be destinedto live through those many years which, in obedience to his originaldesign, must be allowed to lapse between the events of the first andsecond parts of the romance.In response to many enquiries he may add that the name Ayesha, whichsince the days of the prophet Mahomet, who had a wife so called, and perhaps before them, has been common in the East, should be pronounced _Assha_.
 
INTRODUCTIONVerily and indeed it is the unexpected that happens! Probably if therewas one person upon the earth from whom the Editor of this, and of acertain previous history, did not expect to hear again, that person wasLudwig Horace Holly. This, too, for a good reason; he believed him tohave taken his departure from the earth.When Mr. Holly last wrote, many, many years ago, it was to transmit themanuscript of _She_, and to announce that he and his ward, Leo Vincey,the beloved of the divine Ayesha, were about to travel to Central Asiain the hope, I suppose, that there she would fulfil her promise andappear to them again.Often I have wondered, idly enough, what happened to them there; whether they were dead, or perhaps droning their lives away as monks in someThibetan Lamasery, or studying magic and practising asceticism under the tuition of the Eastern Masters trusting that thus they would build a bridge by which they might pass to the side of their adored Immortal. Now at length, when I had not thought of them for months, without asingle warning sign, out of the blue as it were, comes the answer tothese wonderings!To think--only to think--that I, the Editor aforesaid, from itsappearance suspecting something quite familiar and without interest, pushed aside that dingy, unregistered, brown-paper parcel directed in anunknown hand, and for two whole days let it lie forgotten. Indeed thereit might be lying now, had not another person been moved to curiosity,and opening it, found within a bundle of manuscript badly burned uponthe back, and with this two letters addressed to myself.Although so great a time had passed since I saw it, and it was shakynow because of the author's age or sickness, I knew the writing atonce--nobody ever made an "H" with that peculiar twirl under it exceptMr. Holly. I tore open the sealed envelope, and sure enough the firstthing my eye fell upon was the signature, _L. H. Holly_. It is longsince I read anything so eagerly as I did that letter. Here it is:--"My dear sir,--I have ascertained that you still live, and strange tosay I still live also--for a little while."As soon as I came into touch with civilization again I found a copy of your book _She_, or rather of my book, and read it--first of all in aHindostani translation. My host--he was a minister of some religious body, a man of worthy but prosaic mind--expressed surprise that a 'wild

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