And then the answer came. The gods answered my call. The window sash suddenly swung open with a roar, and into the room, silently flapping its wings, flew that huge bat that I last saw hanging on the chin of a dead eunuch, when Cleopatra and I were in the depths of the Pyramid of Heru. She flew around the room three times, then hovered over the dead Iras, and then fluttered to the dying Cleopatra and landed on her chest, clutching the emerald taken from the mummy of Menkaure, where she had rested for many millennia. Three times this white embodiment of horror screamed loudly, thrice struck with its huge membranous wings and - lo and behold! – disappeared, as if he had never existed.