From out of eternity I saw the imposture triumph.

I saw the priest of Abydos night and day persecuting the maiden, who had taken refuge in a temple of Isis on the island of Philae.

I saw him persecute and harass her, even in the subterranean chambers, I saw him drive her mad with terror and suffering, like a huge bat pursuing a white dove.

Ah, priest, priest of Abydos, I have returned to life to expose your infamy, and after so many years of silence, I name thee murderer, hypocrite, liar!" A dry, hollow laugh accompanied these words, while a choked voice responded, "No! Mercy!" It was Padre Salvi, who had been overcome with terror and with arms extended was slipping in collapse to the floor.
"What's the matter with your Reverence?
Are you ill ?" asked Padre Irene.
"The heat of the room--" "This odor of corpses we're breathing here--" "Murderer, slanderer, hypocrite!" repeated the head.

"I accuse you--murderer, murderer, murderer!" Again the dry laugh, sepulchral and menacing, resounded, as though that head were so absorbed in contemplation of its wrongs that it did not see the tumult that prevailed in the room.
"Mercy! She still lives!" groaned Padre Salvi, and then lost consciousness.