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@@ -1,28 +1,4 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Ziska, by Marie Corelli - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Ziska - The Problem of a Wicked Soul - -Author: Marie Corelli - -Release Date: April 17, 2002 [eBook #5079] -[Most recently updated: September 30, 2022] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ZISKA *** +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 5079 *** @@ -6983,349 +6959,4 @@ that follows. “Vainly Denzil _Marray_ waited next morning” to _Murray_. -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ZISKA *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Ziska<br />The Problem of a Wicked Soul</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Marie Corelli</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: April 17, 2002 [eBook #5079]<br /> -[Most recently updated: September 30, 2022]</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.</div> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ZISKA ***</div> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 5079 ***</div> <div class="tp"> <h1 title="Ziska: The Problem of a Wicked Soul"> -ZISKA<br/> -<span class="font70">THE</span><br/> +ZISKA<br> +<span class="font70">THE</span><br> <span class="font80">PROBLEM OF A WICKED SOUL</span> </h1> -<span class="font80">BY</span><br/> +<span class="font80">BY</span><br> MARIE CORELLI -<br/><br/><br/><br/> -NEW YORK<br/> -STONE & KIMBALL<br/> +<br><br><br><br> +NEW YORK<br> +STONE & KIMBALL<br> M DCCC XCVII </div> <p class="center" style="margin-top: 10%;"> -TO THE<br/> -PRESENT LIVING RE-INCARNATION<br/> -OF<br/> +TO THE<br> +PRESENT LIVING RE-INCARNATION<br> +OF<br> ARAXES </p> <p class="center" style="margin-top: 10%;"> -<b><span style="font-size: xx-large;">ZISKA.</span><br/> +<b><span style="font-size: xx-large;">ZISKA.</span><br> <i>THE PROBLEM OF A WICKED SOUL.</i> </b></p> @@ -4997,7 +4977,7 @@ began to sing: <p class="i0">That burns and tortures the human brain;</p> <p class="i0">Oh, for the passionless peace of the Lotus-Lily!</p> -<p><br/></p> +<p><br></p> <p class="i0">Oh, for the pure cold heart of the Lotus-Lily!</p> <p class="i0">Bared to the moon on the waters dark and chilly.</p> @@ -6162,7 +6142,7 @@ unseen quarter of the room a rich throbbing voice began to sing:— <p class="i0">Knowing naught of the sorrow and restless pain</p> <p class="i0">That burns and tortures the human brain;</p> <p class="i0">Oh, for the passionless peace of the Lotus-Lily!</p> -<p><br/></p> +<p><br></p> <p class="i0">Oh, for the pure cold heart of the Lotus-Lily!</p> <p class="i0">Bared to the moon on the waters dark and chilly.</p> <p class="i4">A star above</p> @@ -7606,7 +7586,7 @@ soul, rang out on the warm silence: <p class="i0">The passing of night,—or shed its light</p> <p class="i1">On my Dream of the Dark!</p> -<p><br/></p> +<p><br></p> <p class="i0">On the scented and slumbrous air,</p> <p class="i1">Strange thoughts are thronging;</p> @@ -7617,7 +7597,7 @@ soul, rang out on the warm silence: <p class="i0">Of a lover unseen from the Might-Have-Been,</p> <p class="i1">Whose loving is Death!</p> -<p><br/></p> +<p><br></p> <p class="i0">In the darkness a deed was done,</p> <p class="i1">A wild word spoken!</p> @@ -9259,8 +9239,8 @@ But how I found him, and where, is my secret!” </p> <p class="spacer"> -* * * *<br/> -* * * *<br/> +* * * *<br> +* * * *<br> * * * * </p> @@ -9331,7 +9311,7 @@ commended to its Rest.” </p> <p> -<br/> +<br> </p> <p> @@ -9536,448 +9516,7 @@ that follows. “Vainly Denzil <i>Marray</i> waited next morning” to <i>Murray</i>. </p> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ZISKA ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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Be sure to check the -copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing -this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. - -This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project -Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the -header without written permission. - -Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the -eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is -important information about your specific rights and restrictions in -how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a -donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. - - -**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** - -**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** - -*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** - - -Title: Ziska - The Problem of a Wicked Soul - -Author: Marie Corelli - -Release Date: February, 2004 [EBook #5079] -[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] -[This file was first posted on April 17, 2002] - -Edition: 10 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ZISKA *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. - - - - - - -ZISKA - -THE PROBLEM OF A WICKED SOUL -BY -MARIE CORELLI - - - - -Other Books by the same Author - -THE SORROWS OF SATAN BARABBAS A ROMANCE OF TWO WORLDS THE MIGHTY -ATOM, ETC., ETC. - - - - - - -TO THE PRESENT LIVING RE-INCARNATION OF ARAXES - - - - - - -ZISKA. - -THE PROBLEM OF A WICKED SOUL. - - - - -PROLOGUE. - - -Dark against the sky towered the Great Pyramid, and over its apex -hung the moon. Like a wreck cast ashore by some titanic storm, the -Sphinx, reposing amid the undulating waves of grayish sand -surrounding it, seemed for once to drowse. Its solemn visage that -had impassively watched ages come and go, empires rise and fall, -and generations of men live and die, appeared for the moment to -have lost its usual expression of speculative wisdom and intense -disdain--its cold eyes seemed to droop, its stern mouth almost -smiled. The air was calm and sultry; and not a human foot -disturbed the silence. But towards midnight a Voice suddenly arose -as it were like a wind in the desert, crying aloud: "Araxes! -Araxes!" and wailing past, sank with a profound echo into the deep -recesses of the vast Egyptian tomb. Moonlight and the Hour wove -their own mystery; the mystery of a Shadow and a Shape that -flitted out like a thin vapor from the very portals of Death's -ancient temple, and drifting forward a few paces resolved itself -into the visionary fairness of a Woman's form--a Woman whose dark -hair fell about her heavily, like the black remnants of a long- -buried corpse's wrappings; a Woman whose eyes flashed with an -unholy fire as she lifted her face to the white moon and waved her -ghostly arms upon the air. And again the wild Voice pulsated -through the stillness. - - "Araxes! ... Araxes! Thou art here, - --and I pursue thee! Through life into - death; through death out into life again! - I find thee and I follow! I follow! - Araxes!..." - -Moonlight and the Hour wove their own mystery; and ere the pale -opal dawn flushed the sky with hues of rose and amber the Shadow -had vanished; the Voice was heard no more. Slowly the sun lifted -the edge of its golden shield above the horizon, and the great -Sphinx awaking from its apparent brief slumber, stared in -expressive and eternal scorn across the tracts of sand and tufted -palm-trees towards the glittering dome of El-Hazar--that abode of -profound sanctity and learning, where men still knelt and -worshipped, praying the Unknown to deliver them from the Unseen. -And one would almost have deemed that the sculptured Monster with -the enigmatical Woman-face and Lion-form had strange thoughts in -its huge granite brain; for when the full day sprang in glory over -the desert and illumined its large features with a burning saffron -radiance, its cruel lips still smiled as though yearning to speak -and propound the terrible riddle of old time; the Problem which -killed! - - - - -CHAPTER I. - - -It was the full "season" in Cairo. The ubiquitous Britisher and -the no less ubiquitous American had planted their differing -"society" standards on the sandy soil watered by the Nile, and -were busily engaged in the work of reducing the city, formerly -called Al Kahira or The Victorious, to a more deplorable condition -of subjection and slavery than any old-world conqueror could ever -have done. For the heavy yoke of modern fashion has been flung on -the neck of Al Kahira, and the irresistible, tyrannic dominion of -"swagger" vulgarity has laid The Victorious low. The swarthy -children of the desert might, and possibly would, be ready and -willing to go forth and fight men with men's weapons for the -freedom to live and die unmolested in their own native land; but -against the blandly-smiling, white-helmeted, sun-spectacled, -perspiring horde of Cook's "cheap trippers," what can they do save -remain inert and well-nigh speechless? For nothing like the cheap -tripper was ever seen in the world till our present enlightened -and glorious day of progress; he is a new-grafted type of nomad, -like and yet unlike a man. The Darwin theory asserts itself -proudly and prominently in bristles of truth all over him--in his -restlessness, his ape-like agility and curiosity, his shameless -inquisitiveness, his careful cleansing of himself from foreign -fleas, his general attention to minutiae, and his always voracious -appetite; and where the ape ends and the man begins is somewhat -difficult to discover. The "image of God" wherewith he, together -with his fellows, was originally supposed to be impressed in the -first fresh days of Creation, seems fairly blotted out, for there -is no touch of the Divine in his mortal composition. Nor does the -second created phase-the copy of the Divineo--namely, the Heroic,- --dignify his form or ennoble his countenance. There is nothing of -the heroic in the wandering biped who swings through the streets -of Cairo in white flannels, laughing at the staid composure of the -Arabs, flicking thumb and finger at the patient noses of the small -hireable donkeys and other beasts of burden, thrusting a warm red -face of inquiry into the shadowy recesses of odoriferous bazaars, -and sauntering at evening in the Esbekiyeh Gardens, cigar in mouth -and hands in pockets, looking on the scene and behaving in it as -if the whole place were but a reflex of Earl's Court Exhibition. -History affects the cheap tripper not at all; he regards the -Pyramids as "good building" merely, and the inscrutable Sphinx -itself as a fine target for empty soda-water bottles, while -perhaps his chiefest regret is that the granite whereof the -ancient monster is hewn is too hard for him to inscribe his -distinguished name thereon. It is true that there is a punishment -inflicted on any person or persons attempting such wanton work--a -fine or the bastinado; yet neither fine nor bastinado would affect -the "tripper" if he could only succeed in carving "'Arry" on the -Sphinx's jaw. But he cannot, and herein is his own misery. -Otherwise he comports himself in Egypt as he does at Margate, with -no more thought, reflection, or reverence than dignify the -composition of his far-off Simian ancestor. - -Taking him all in all, he is, however, no worse, and in some -respects better, than the "swagger" folk who "do" Egypt, or -rather, consent in a languid way to be "done" by Egypt. These are -the people who annually leave England on the plea of being unable -to stand the cheery, frosty, and in every respect healthy winter -of their native country--that winter, which with its wild winds, -its sparkling frost and snow, its holly trees bright with scarlet -berries, its merry hunters galloping over field and moor during -daylight hours, and its great log fires roaring up the chimneys at -evening, was sufficiently good for their forefathers to thrive -upon and live through contentedly up to a hale and hearty old age -in the times when the fever of travelling from place to place was -an unknown disease, and home was indeed "sweet home." Infected by -strange maladies of the blood and nerves, to which even scientific -physicians find it hard to give suitable names, they shudder at -the first whiff of cold, and filling huge trunks with a thousand -foolish things which have, through luxurious habit, become -necessities to their pallid existences, they hastily depart to the -Land of the Sun, carrying with them their nameless languors, -discontents and incurable illnesses, for which Heaven itself, much -less Egypt, could provide no remedy. It is not at all to be -wondered at that these physically and morally sick tribes of human -kind have ceased to give any serious attention as to what may -possibly become of them after death, or whether there IS any -"after," for they are in the mentally comatose condition which -precedes entire wreckage of brain-force; existence itself has -become a "bore;" one place is like another, and they repeat the -same monotonous round of living in every spot where they -congregate, whether it be east, west, north, or south. On the -Riviera they find little to do except meet at Rumpelmayer's at -Cannes, the London House at Nice, or the Casino at Monte-Carlo; -and in Cairo they inaugurate a miniature London "season" over -again, worked in the same groove of dinners, dances, drives, -picnics, flirtations, and matrimonial engagements. But the Cairene -season has perhaps some advantage over the London one so far as -this particular set of "swagger" folk are concerned--it is less -hampered by the proprieties. One can be more "free," you know! You -may take a little walk into "Old" Cairo, and turning a corner you -may catch glimpses of what Mark Twain calls "Oriental simplicity," -namely, picturesquely-composed groups of "dear delightful" Arabs -whose clothing is no more than primitive custom makes strictly -necessary. These kind of "tableaux vivants" or "art studies" give -quite a thrill of novelty to Cairene-English Society,--a touch of -savagery,--a soupcon of peculiarity which is entirely lacking to -fashionable London. Then, it must be remembered that the "children -of the desert" have been led by gentle degrees to understand that -for harboring the strange locusts imported into their land by -Cook, and the still stranger specimens of unclassified insect -called Upper Ten, which imports itself, they will receive -"backsheesh." - -"Backsheesh" is a certain source of comfort to all nations, and -translates itself with sweetest euphony into all languages, and -the desert-born tribes have justice on their side when they demand -as much of it as they can get, rightfully or wrongfully. They -deserve to gain some sort of advantage out of the odd-looking -swarms of Western invaders who amaze them by their dress and -affront them by their manners. "Backsheesh," therefore, has become -the perpetual cry of the Desert-Born,--it is the only means of -offence and defence left to them, and very naturally they cling to -it with fervor and resolution. And who shall blame them? The tall, -majestic, meditative Arab--superb as mere man, and standing naked- -footed on his sandy native soil, with his one rough garment flung -round his loins and his great black eyes fronting, eagle-like, the -sun--merits something considerable for condescending to act as -guide and servant to the Western moneyed civilian who clothes his -lower limbs in straight, funnel-like cloth casings, shaped to the -strict resemblance of an elephant's legs, and finishes the -graceful design by enclosing the rest of his body in a stiff shirt -wherein he can scarcely move, and a square-cut coat which divides -him neatly in twain by a line immediately above the knee, with the -effect of lessening his height by several inches. The Desert-Born -surveys him gravely and in civil compassion, sometimes with a -muttered prayer against the hideousness of him, but on the whole -with patience and equanimity,--influenced by considerations of -"backsheesh." And the English "season" whirls lightly and -vaporously, like blown egg-froth, over the mystic land of the old -gods,--the terrible land filled with dark secrets as yet -unexplored,--the land "shadowing with wings," as the Bible hath -it,--the land in which are buried tremendous histories as yet -unguessed,--profound enigmas of the supernatural,--labyrinths of -wonder, terror and mystery,--all of which remain unrevealed to the -giddy-pated, dancing, dining, gabbling throng of the fashionable -travelling lunatics of the day,--the people who "never think -because it is too much trouble," people whose one idea is to -journey from hotel to hotel and compare notes with their -acquaintances afterwards as to which house provided them with the -best-cooked food. For it is a noticeable fact that with most -visitors to the "show" places of Europe and the East, food, -bedding and selfish personal comfort are the first -considerations,--the scenery and the associations come last. -Formerly the position was reversed. In the days when there were no -railways, and the immortal Byron wrote his Childe Harold, it was -customary to rate personal inconvenience lightly; the beautiful or -historic scene was the attraction for the traveller, and not the -arrangements made for his special form of digestive apparatus. -Byron could sleep on the deck of a sailing vessel wrapped in his -cloak and feel none the worse for it; his well-braced mind and -aspiring spirit soared above all bodily discomforts; his thoughts -were engrossed with the mighty teachings of time; he was able to -lose himself in glorious reveries on the lessons of the past and -the possibilities of the future; the attitude of the inspired -Thinker as well as Poet was his, and a crust of bread and cheese -served him as sufficiently on his journeyings among the then -unspoilt valleys and mountains of Switzerland as the warm, greasy, -indigestible fare of the elaborate table-d'hotes at Lucerne and -Interlaken serve us now. But we, in our "superior" condition, -pooh-pooh the Byronic spirit of indifference to events and scorn -of trifles,--we say it is "melodramatic," completely forgetting -that our attitude towards ourselves and things in general is one -of most pitiable bathos. We cannot write Childe Harold, but we can -grumble at both bed and board in every hotel under the sun; we can -discover teasing midges in the air and questionable insects in the -rooms; and we can discuss each bill presented to us with an -industrious persistence which nearly drives landlords frantic and -ourselves as well. In these kind of important matters we are -indeed "superior" to Byron and other ranting dreamers of his type, -but we produce no Childe Harolds, and we have come to the strange -pass of pretending that Don Juan is improper, while we pore over -Zola with avidity! To such a pitch has our culture brought us! -And, like the Pharisee in the Testament, we thank God we are not -as others are. We are glad we are not as the Arab, as the African, -as the Hindoo; we are proud of our elephant-legs and our dividing -coat-line; these things show we are civilized, and that God -approves of us more than any other type of creature ever created. -We take possession of nations, not by thunder of war, but by -clatter of dinner-plates. We do not raise armies, we build hotels; -and we settle ourselves in Egypt as we do at Homburg, to dress and -dine and sleep and sniff contempt on all things but ourselves, to -such an extent that we have actually got into the habit of calling -the natives of the places we usurp "foreigners." WE are the -foreigners; but somehow we never can see it. Wherever we -condescend to build hotels, that spot we consider ours. We are -surprised at the impertinence of Frankfort people who presume to -visit Homburg while we are having our "season" there; we wonder -how they dare do it! And, of a truth, they seem amazed at their -own boldness, and creep shyly through the Kur-Garten as though -fearing to be turned out by the custodians. The same thing occurs -in Egypt; we are frequently astounded at what we call "the -impertinence of these foreigners," i.e. the natives. They ought to -be proud to have us and our elephant-legs; glad to see such noble -and beautiful types of civilization as the stout parvenu with his -pendant paunch, and his family of gawky youths and maidens of the -large-toothed, long-limbed genus; glad to see the English "mamma," -who never grows old, but wears young hair in innocent curls, and -has her wrinkles annually "massaged" out by a Paris artiste in -complexion. The Desert-Born, we say, should be happy and grateful -to see such sights, and not demand so much "backsheesh." In fact, -the Desert-Born should not get so much in our way as he does; he -is a very good servant, of course, but as a man and a brother-- -pooh! Egypt may be his country, and he may love it as much as we -love England; but our feelings are more to be considered than his, -and there is no connecting link of human sympathy between -Elephant-Legs and sun-browned Nudity! - -So at least thought Sir Chetwynd Lyle, a stout gentleman of coarse -build and coarser physiognomy, as he sat in a deep arm-chair in -the great hall or lounge of the Gezireh Palace Hotel, smoking -after dinner in the company of two or three acquaintances with -whom he had fraternized during his stay in Cairo. Sir Chetwynd was -fond of airing his opinions for the benefit of as many people who -cared to listen to him, and Sir Chetwynd had some right to his -opinions, inasmuch as he was the editor and proprietor of a large -London newspaper. His knighthood was quite a recent distinction, -and nobody knew exactly how he had managed to get it. He had -originally been known in Fleet Street by the irreverent sobriquet -of "greasy Chetwynd," owing to his largeness, oiliness and general -air of blandly-meaningless benevolence. He had a wife and two -daughters, and one of his objects in wintering at Cairo was to get -his cherished children married. It was time, for the bloom was -slightly off the fair girl-roses,--the dainty petals of the -delicate buds were beginning to wither. And Sir Chetwynd had heard -much of Cairo; he understood that there was a great deal of -liberty allowed there between men and maids,--that they went out -together on driving excursions to the Pyramids, that they rode on -lilliputian donkeys over the sand at moonlight, that they floated -about in boats at evening on the Nile, and that, in short, there -were more opportunities of marriage among the "flesh-pots of -Egypt" than in all the rush and crush of London. So here he was, -portly and comfortable, and on the whole well satisfied with his -expedition; there were a good many eligible bachelors about, and -Muriel and Dolly were really doing their best. So was their -mother, Lady Chetwynd Lyle; she allowed no "eligible" to escape -her hawk-like observation, and on this particular evening she was -in all her glory, for there was to be a costume ball at the -Gezireh Palace Hotel,--a superb affair, organized by the -proprietors for the amusement of their paying guests, who -certainly paid well,--even stiffly. Owing to the preparations that -were going on for this festivity, the lounge, with its sumptuous -Egyptian decorations and luxurious modern fittings, was well-nigh -deserted save for Sir Chetwynd and his particular group of -friends, to whom he was holding forth, between slow cigar-puffs, -on the squalor of the Arabs, the frightful thievery of the Sheiks, -the incompetency of his own special dragoman, and the mistake -people made in thinking the Egyptians themselves a fine race. - -"They are tall, certainly," said Sir Chetwynd, surveying his -paunch, which lolled comfortably, and as it were by itself, in -front of him, like a kind of waistcoated air-balloon. "I grant you -they are tall. That is, the majority of them are. But I have seen -short men among them. The Khedive is not taller than I am. And the -Egyptian face is very deceptive. The features are often fine,-- -occasionally classic,--but intelligent expression is totally -lacking." - -Here Sir Chetwynd waved his cigar descriptively, as though he -would fain suggest that a heavy jaw, a fat nose with a pimple at -the end, and a gross mouth with black teeth inside it, which were -special points in his own physiognomy, went further to make up -"intelligent expression" than any well-moulded, straight, Eastern -type of sun-browned countenance ever seen or imagined. - -"Well, I don't quite agree with you there," said a man who was -lying full length on one of the divans close by and smoking. -"These brown chaps have deuced fine eyes. There doesn't seem to be -any lack of expression in them. And that reminds me, there is at -fellow arrived here to-day who looks for all the world like an -Egyptian, of the best form. He is a Frenchman, though; a -Provencal,--every one knows him,--he is the famous painter, Armand -Gervase." - -"Indeed!"--and Sir Chetwynd roused himself at the name--"Armand -Gervase! THE Armand Gervase?" - -"The only one original," laughed the other. "He's come here to -make studies of Eastern women. A rare old time he'll have among -them, I daresay! He's not famous for character. He ought to paint -the Princess Ziska." - -"Ah, by-the-bye, I wanted to ask you about that lady. Does anyone -know who she is? My wife is very anxious to find out whether she -is--well--er--quite the proper person, you know! When one has -young girls, one cannot be too careful." - -Ross Courtney, the man on the divan, got up slowly and stretched -his long athletic limbs with a lazy enjoyment in the action. He -was a sporting person with unhampered means and large estates in -Scotland and Ireland; he lived a joyous, "don't-care" life of -wandering about the world in search of adventures, and he had a -scorn of civilized conventionalities--newspapers and their editors -among them. And whenever Sir Chetwynd spoke of his "young girls" -he was moved to irreverent smiling, as he knew the youngest of the -twain was at least thirty. He also recognized and avoided the wily -traps and pitfalls set for him by Lady Chetwynd Lyle in the hope -that he would yield himself up a captive to the charms of Muriel -or Dolly; and as he thought of these two fair ones now and -involuntarily compared them in his mind with the other woman just -spoken of, the smile that had begun to hover on his lips deepened -unconsciously till his handsome face was quite illumined with its -mirth. - -"Upon my word, I don't think it matters who anybody is in Cairo!" -he said with a fine carelessness. "The people whose families are -all guaranteed respectable are more lax in their behavior than the -people one knows nothing about. As for the Princess Ziska, her -extraordinary beauty and intelligence would give her the entree -anywhere--even if she hadn't money to back those qualities up." - -"She's enormously wealthy, I hear," said young Lord Fulkeward, -another of the languid smokers, caressing his scarcely perceptible -moustache. "My mother thinks she is a divorcee." - -Sir Chetwynd looked very serious, and shook his fat head solemnly. - -"Well, there is nothing remarkable in being divorced, you know," -laughed Ross Courtney. "Nowadays it seems the natural and fitting -end of marriage." - -Sir Chetwynd looked graver still. He refused to be drawn into this -kind of flippant conversation. He, at any rate, was respectably -married; he had no sympathy whatever with the larger majority of -people whose marriages were a failure. - -"There is no Prince Ziska then?" he inquired. "The name sounds to -me of Russian origin, and I imagined--my wife also imagined,--that -the husband of the lady might very easily be in Russia while his -wife's health might necessitate her wintering in Egypt. The -Russian winter climate is inclement, I believe." - -"That would be a very neat arrangement," yawned Lord Fulkeward. -"But my mother thinks not. My mother thinks there is not a husband -at all,--that there never was a husband. In fact my mother has -very strong convictions on the subject. But my mother intends to -visit her all the same." - -"She does? Lady Fulkeward has decided on that? Oh, well, in THAT -case!"--and Sir Chetwynd expanded his lower-chest air-balloon. "Of -course, Lady Chetwynd Lyle can no longer have any scruples on the -subject. If Lady Fulkeward visits the Princess there can be no -doubt as to her actual STATUS." - -"Oh, I don't know!" murmured Lord Fulkeward, stroking his downy -lip. "You see my mother's rather an exceptional person. When the -governor was alive she hardly ever went out anywhere, you know, -and all the people who came to our house in Yorkshire had to bring -their pedigrees with them, so to speak. It was beastly dull! But -now my mother has taken to 'studying character,' don'cher know; -she likes all sorts of people about her, and the more mixed they -are the more she is delighted with them. Fact, I assure you! Quite -a change has come over my mother since the poor old governor -died!" - -Ross Courtney looked amused. A change indeed had come over Lady -Fulkeward--a change, sudden, mysterious and amazing to many of her -former distinguished friends with "pedigrees." In her husband's -lifetime her hair had been a soft silver-gray; her face pale, -refined and serious; her form full and matronly; her step sober -and discreet; but two years after the death of the kindly and -noble old lord who had cherished her as the apple of his eye and -up to the last moment of his breath had thought her the most -beautiful woman in England, she appeared with golden tresses, a -peach-bloom complexion, and a figure which had been so massaged, -rubbed, pressed and artistically corseted as to appear positively -sylph-like. She danced like a fairy, she who had once been called -"old" Lady Fulkeward; she smoked cigarettes; she laughed like a -child at every trivial thing--any joke, however stale, flat and -unprofitable, was sufficient to stir her light pulses to -merriment; and she flirted--oh, heavens!--HOW she flirted!--with a -skill and a grace and a knowledge and an aplomb that nearly drove -Muriel and Dolly Chetwynd Lyle frantic. They, poor things, were -beaten out of the field altogether by her superior tact and art of -"fence," and they hated her accordingly and called her in private -a "horrid old woman," which perhaps, when her maid undressed her, -she was. But she was having a distinctly "good time" in Cairo; she -called her son, who was in delicate health, "my poor dear little -boy!" and he, though twenty-eight on his last birthday, was -reduced to such an abject condition of servitude by her -assertiveness, impudent gayety and general freedom of manner, that -he could not open his mouth without alluding to "my mother," and -using "my mother" as a peg whereon to hang all his own opinions -and emotions as well as the opinions and emotions of other people. - -"Lady Fulkeward admires the Princess very much, I believe?" said -another lounger who had not yet spoken. - -"Oh, as to that!"--and Lord Fulkeward roused himself to some faint -show of energy. "Who wouldn't admire her? By Jove! Only, I tell -you what--there's something I weird about her eyes. Fact! I don't -like her eyes." - -"Shut up, Fulke! She has beautiful eyes!" burst out Courtney, -hotly; then flushing suddenly he bit his lips and was silent. - -"Who is this that has beautiful eyes?" suddenly demanded a slow, -gruff voice, and a little thin gentleman, dressed in a kind of -academic gown and cap, appeared on the scene. - -"Hullo! here's our F.R.S.A.!" exclaimed Lord Fulkeward. "By Jove! -Is that the style you have got yourself up in for tonight? It -looks awfully smart, don'cher know!" - -The personage thus complimented adjusted his spectacles and -surveyed his acquaintances with a very well-satisfied air. In -truth, Dr. Maxwell Dean had some reason for self-satisfaction, if -the knowledge that he possessed one of the cleverest heads in -Europe could give a man cause for pride. He was apparently the -only individual in the Gezireh Palace Hotel who had come to Egypt -for any serious purpose. A purpose he had, though what it was he -declined to explain. Reticent, often brusque, and sometimes -mysterious in his manner of speech, there was not the slightest -doubt that he was at work on something, and that he also had a -very trying habit of closely studying every object, small or -great, that came under his observation. He studied the natives to -such an extent that he knew every differing shade of color in -their skins; he studied Sir Chetwynd Lyle and knew that he -occasionally took bribes to "put things" into his paper; he -studied Dolly and Muriel Chetwynd Lyle, and knew that they would -never succeed in getting husbands; he studied Lady Fulkeward, and -thought her very well got up for sixty; he studied Ross Courtney, -and knew he would never do anything but kill animals all his life; -and he studied the working of the Gezireh Palace Hotel, and saw a -fortune rising out of it for the proprietors. But apart from these -ordinary surface things, he studied other matters--"occult" -peculiarities of temperament, "coincidences," strange occurrences -generally. He could read the Egyptian hieroglyphs perfectly, and -he understood the difference between "royal cartouche" scarabei -and Birmingham-manufactured ones. He was never dull; he had plenty -to do; and he took everything as it came in its turn. Even the -costume ball for which he had now attired himself did not present -itself to him as a "bore," but as a new vein of information, -opening to him fresh glimpses of the genus homo as seen in a state -of eccentricity. - -"I think," he now said, complacently, "that the cap and gown look -well for a man of my years. It is a simple garb, but cool, -convenient and not unbecoming. I had thought at first of adopting -the dress of an ancient Egyptian priest, but I find it difficult -to secure the complete outfit. I would never wear a costume of the -kind that was not in every point historically correct." - -No one smiled. No one would have dared to smile at Dr. Maxwell -Dean when he spoke of "historically correct" things. He had -studied them as he had studied everything, and he knew all about -them. - -Sir Chetwynd murmured: - -"Quite right--er--the ancient designs were very elaborate--" - -"And symbolic," finished Dr. Dean. "Symbolic of very curious -meanings, I assure you. But I fear I have interrupted your talk. -Mr. Courtney was speaking about somebody's beautiful eyes; who is -the fair one in question?" - -"The Princess Ziska," said Lord Fulkeward. "I was saying that I -don't quite like the look of her eyes." - -"Why not? Why not?" demanded the doctor with sudden asperity. -"What's the matter with them?" - -"Everything's the matter with them!" replied Ross Courtney with a -forced laugh. "They are too splendid and wild for Fulke; he likes -the English pale-blue better than the Egyptian gazelle-black." - -"No, I don't," said Lord Fulkeward, speaking more animatedly than -was customary with him. "I hate, pale-blue eyes. I prefer soft -violet-gray ones, like Miss Murray's." - -"Miss Helen Murray is a very charming young lady," said Dr. Dean. -"But her beauty is quite of an ordinary type, while that of the -Princess Ziska--" - -"Is EXTRA-ordinary--exactly! That's just what I say!" declared -Courtney. "I think she is the loveliest woman I have ever seen." - -There was a pause, during which the little doctor looked with a -ferret-like curiosity from one man to the other. Sir Chetwynd Lyle -rose ponderously up from the depths of his arm-chair. - -"I think," said he, "I had better go and get into my uniform--the -Windsor, you know! I always have it with me wherever I go; it -comes in very useful for fancy balls such as the one we are going -to have tonight, when no particular period is observed in costume. -Isn't it about time we all got ready?" - -"Upon my life, I think it is!" agreed Lord Fulkeward. "I am coming -out as a Neapolitan fisherman! I don't believe Neapolitan -fishermen ever really dress in the way I'm going to make up, but -it's the accepted stage-type, don'cher know." - -"Ah! I daresay you will look very well in it," murmured Ross -Courtney, vaguely. "Hullo! here comes Denzil Murray!" - -They all turned instinctively to watch the entrance of a handsome -young man, attired in the picturesque garb worn by Florentine -nobles during the prosperous reign of the Medicis. It was a -costume admirably adapted to the wearer, who, being grave and -almost stern of feature, needed the brightness of jewels and the -gloss of velvet and satin to throw out the classic contour of his -fine head and enhance the lustre of his brooding, darkly- -passionate eyes. Denzil Murray was a pure-blooded Highlander,--the -level brows, the firm lips, the straight, fearless look, all -bespoke him a son of the heather-crowned mountains and a -descendant of the proud races that scorned the "Sassenach," and -retained sufficient of the material whereof their early Phoenician -ancestors were made to be capable of both the extremes of hate and -love in their most potent forms. He moved slowly towards the group -of men awaiting his approach with a reserved air of something like -hauteur; it was possible he was conscious of his good looks, but -it was equally evident that he did not desire to be made the -object of impertinent remark. His friends silently recognized -this, and only Lord Fulkeward, moved to a mild transport of -admiration, ventured to comment on his appearance. - -"I say, Denzil, you're awfully well got up! Awfully well! -Magnificent!" - -Denzil Murray bowed with a somewhat wearied and sarcastic air. - -"When one is in Rome, or Egypt, one must do as Rome, or Egypt, -does," he said, carelessly. "If hotel proprietors will give fancy -balls, it is necessary to rise to the occasion. You look very -well, Doctor. Why don't you other fellows go and get your -toggeries on? It's past ten o'clock, and the Princess Ziska will -be here by eleven." - -"There are other people coming besides the Princess Ziska, are -there not, Mr. Murray?" inquired Sir Chetwynd Lyle, with an -obtrusively bantering air. - -Denzil Murray glanced him over disdainfully. - -"I believe there are," he answered coolly. "Otherwise the ball -would scarcely pay its expenses. But as the Princess is admittedly -the most beautiful woman in Cairo this season, she will naturally -be the centre of attraction. That's why I mentioned she would be -here at eleven." - -"She told you that?" inquired Ross Courtney. - -"She did." - -Courtney looked up, then down, and seemed about to speak again, -but checked himself and finally strolled off, followed by Lord -Fulkeward. - -"I hear," said Dr. Dean then, addressing Denzil Murray, "that a -great celebrity has arrived at this hotel--the painter, Armand -Gervase." - -Denzil's face brightened instantly with a pleasant smile. - -"The dearest friend I have in the world!" he said. "Yes, he is -here. I met him outside the door this afternoon. We are very old -chums. I have stayed with him in Paris, and he has stayed with me -in Scotland. A charming fellow! He is very French in his ideas; -but he knows England well, and speaks English perfectly." - -"French in his ideas!" echoed Sir Chetwynd Lyle, who was just -preparing to leave the lounge. "Dear me! How is that?" - -"He is a Frenchman," said Dr. Dean, suavely. "Therefore that his -ideas should be French ought not to be a matter of surprise to us, -my dear Sir Chetwynd." - -Sir Chetwynd snorted. He had a suspicion that he--the editor and -proprietor of the Daily Dial--was being laughed at, and he at once -clambered on his high horse of British Morality. - -"Frenchman or no Frenchman," he observed, "the ideas promulgated -in France at the present day are distinctly profane and -pernicious. There is a lack of principle--a want of rectitude in-- -er--the French Press, for example, that is highly deplorable." - -"And is the English Press immaculate?" asked Denzil languidly. - -"We hope so," replied Sir Chetwynd. "We do our best to make it -so." - -And with that remark he took his paunch and himself away into -retirement, leaving Dr. Dean and young Murray facing each other, a -singular pair enough in the contrast of their appearance and -dress,--the one small, lean and wiry, in plain-cut, loose-flowing -academic gown; the other tall, broad and muscular, clad in the -rich attire of mediaeval Florence, and looking for all the world -like a fine picture of that period stepped out from, its frame. -There was a silence between them for a moment,--then the Doctor -spoke in a low tone: - -"It won't do, my dear boy,--I assure you it won't do! You will -break your heart over a dream, and make yourself miserable for -nothing. And you will break your sister's heart as well; perhaps -you haven't thought of that?" - -Denzil flung himself into the chair Sir Chetwynd had just vacated, -and gave vent to a sigh that was almost a groan. - -"Helen doesn't know anything--yet," he said hoarsely. "I know -nothing myself; how can I? I haven't said a word to--to HER. If I -spoke all that was in my mind, I daresay she would laugh at me. -You are the only one who has guessed my secret. You saw me last -night when I--when I accompanied her home. But I never passed her -palace gates,--she wouldn't let me. She bade me 'good-night' -outside; a servant admitted her, and she vanished through the -portal like a witch or a ghost. Sometimes I fancy she IS a ghost. -She is so white, so light, so noiseless and so lovely!" - -He turned his eyes away, ashamed of the emotion that moved him. -Dr. Maxwell Dean took off his academic cap and examined its -interior as though he considered it remarkable. - -"Yes," he said slowly; "I have thought the same thing of her -myself--sometimes." - -Further conversation was interrupted by the entrance of the -military band of the evening, which now crossed the "lounge," each -man carrying his instrument with him; and these were followed by -several groups of people in fancy dress, all ready and eager for -the ball. Pierrots and Pierrettes, monks in drooping cowls, -flower-girls, water-carriers, symbolic figures of "Night" and -"Morning," mingled with the counterfeit presentments of dead-and- -gone kings and queens, began to flock together, laughing and -talking on their way to the ball-room; and presently among them -came a man whose superior height and build, combined with his -eminently picturesque, half-savage type of beauty, caused every -one to turn and watch him as he passed, and murmur whispering -comments on the various qualities wherein he differed from -themselves. He was attired for the occasion as a Bedouin chief, -and his fierce black eyes, and close-curling, dark hair, combined -with the natural olive tint of his complexion, were well set off -by the snowy folds of his turban and the whiteness of his entire -costume, which was unrelieved by any color save at the waist, -where a gleam of scarlet was shown in the sash which helped to -fasten a murderous-looking dagger and other "correct" weapons of -attack to his belt. He entered the hall with a swift and -singularly light step, and made straight for Denzil Murray. - -"Ah! here you are!" he said, speaking English with a slight -foreign accent, which was more agreeable to the ear than -otherwise. "But, my excellent boy, what magnificence! A Medici -costume! Never say to me that you are not vain; you are as -conscious of your good looks as any pretty woman. Behold me, how -simple and unobtrusive I am!" - -He laughed, and Murray sprang up from the chair where he had been -despondently reclining. - -"Oh, come, I like that!" he exclaimed. "Simple and unobtrusive! -Why everybody is staring at you now as if you had dropped from the -moon! You cannot be Armand Gervase and simple and unobtrusive at -the same time!" - -"Why not?" demanded Gervase, lightly. "Fame is capricious, and her -trumpet is not loud enough to be heard all over the world at once. -The venerable proprietor of the dirty bazaar where I managed to -purchase these charming articles of Bedouin costume had never -heard of me in his life. Miserable man! He does not know what he -has missed!" - -Here his flashing black eyes lit suddenly on Dr. Dean, who was -"studying" him in the same sort of pertinacious way in which that -learned little man studied everything. - -"A friend of yours, Denzil?" he inquired. - -"Yes," responded Murray readily; "a very great friend--Dr. Maxwell -Dean. Dr. Dean, let me introduce to you Armand Gervase; I need not -explain him further!" - -"You need not, indeed!" said the doctor, with a ceremonious bow. -"The name is one of universal celebrity." - -"It is not always an advantage--this universal celebrity," replied -Gervase. "Nor is it true that any celebrity is actually universal. -Perhaps the only living person that is universally known, by name -at least, is Zola. Mankind are at one in their appreciation of -vice." - -"I cannot altogether agree with you there," said Dr. Dean slowly, -keeping his gaze fixed on the artist's bold, proud features with -singular curiosity. "The French Academy, I presume, are -individually as appreciative of human weaknesses as most men; but -taken collectively, some spirit higher and stronger than their own -keeps them unanimous in their rejection of the notorious Realist -who sacrifices all the canons of art and beauty to the discussion -of topics unmentionable in decent society." - -Gervase laughed idly. - -"Oh, he will get in some day, you may be sure," he answered. -"There is no spirit higher and stronger than the spirit of -naturalism in man; and in time, when a few prejudices have died -away and mawkish sentiment has been worn threadbare, Zola will be -enrolled as the first of the French Academicians, with even more -honors than if he had succeeded in the beginning. That is the way -of all those 'select' bodies. As Napoleon said, 'Le monde vient a -celui qui sait attendre.'" - -The little Doctor's countenance now showed the most lively and -eager interest. - -"You quite believe that, Monsieur Gervase? You are entirely sure -of what you said just now?" - -"What did I say? I forget!" smiled Gervase, lighting a cigarette -and beginning to smoke it leisurely. - -"You said, 'There is no spirit higher or stronger than the spirit -of naturalism in man.' Are you positive on this point?" - -"Why, of course! Most entirely positive!" And the great painter -looked amused as he gave the reply. "Naturalism is Nature, or the -things appertaining to Nature, and there is nothing higher or -stronger than Nature everywhere and anywhere." - -"How about God?" inquired Dr. Dean with a curious air, as if he -were propounding a remarkable conundrum. - -"God!" Gervase laughed loudly. "Pardon! Are you a clergyman?" - -"By no means!" and the Doctor gave a little bow and deprecating -smile. "I am not in any way connected with the Church. I am a -doctor of laws and literature,--a humble student of philosophy and -science generally..." - -"Philosophy! Science!" interrupted Gervase. "And you ask about -God! Parbleu! Science and philosophy have progressed beyond Him!" - -"Exactly!" and Dr. Dean rubbed his hands together pleasantly. -"That is your opinion? Yes, I thought so! Science and philosophy, -to put it comprehensively, have beaten poor God on His own ground! -Ha! ha! ha! Very good--very good! And humorous as well! Ha! ha!" - -And a very droll appearance just then had this "humble student of -philosophy and science generally," for he bent himself to and fro -with laughter, and his small eyes almost disappeared behind his -shelving brows in the excess of his mirth. And two crosslines -formed themselves near his thin mouth--such lines as are carven on -the ancient Greek masks which indicate satire. - -Denzil Murray flushed uncomfortably. - -"Gervase doesn't believe in anything but Art," he said, as though -half apologizing for his friend: "Art is the sole object of his -existence; I don't believe he ever has time to think about -anything else." - -"Of what else should I think, mon ami?" exclaimed Gervase -mirthfully. "Of life? It is all Art to me; and by Art I mean the -idealization and transfiguration of Nature." - -"Oh. if you do that sort of thing you are a romancist," interposed -Dr. Dean emphatically. "Nature neither idealizes nor transfigures -itself; it is simply Nature and no more. Matter uncontrolled by -Spirit is anything but ideal." - -"Precisely," answered Gervase quickly and with some warmth; "but -my spirit idealizes it,--my imagination sees beyond it,--my soul -grasps it." - -"Oh, you have a soul?" exclaimed Dr. Dean, beginning to laugh -again. "Now, how did you find that out?" - -Gervase looked at him in a sudden surprise. - -"Every man has an inward self, naturally," he said. "We call it -'soul' as a figure of speech; it is really temperament merely." - -"Oh, it is merely temperament? Then you don't think it is likely -to outlive you, this soul--to take new phases upon itself and go -on existing, an immortal being, when your body is in a far worse -condition (because less carefully preserved) than an Egyptian -mummy?" - -"Certainly not!" and Gervase flung away the end of his finished -cigarette. "The immortality of the soul is quite an exploded -theory. It was always a ridiculous one. We have quite enough to -vex us in our present life, and why men ever set about inventing -another is more than I am able to understand. It was a most -foolish and barbaric superstition." - -The gay sound of music now floated towards them from the ball- -room,--the strains of a graceful, joyous, half-commanding, half- -pleading waltz came rhythmically beating on the air like the -measured movement of wings,--and Denzil Murray, beginning to grow -restless, walked to and fro, his eyes watching every figure that -crossed and re-crossed the hall. But Dr. Dean's interest in Armand -Gervase remained intense and unabated; and approaching him, he -laid two lean fingers delicately on the white folds of the Bedouin -dress just where the heart of the man was hidden. - -"'A foolish and barbaric superstition!'" he echoed slowly and -meditatively. "You do not believe in any possibility of there -being a life--or several lives--after this present death through -which we must all pass inevitably, sooner or later?" - -"Not in the least! I leave such ideas to the ignorant and -uneducated. I should be unworthy of the progressive teachings of -my time if I believed such arrant nonsense." - -"Death, you consider, finishes all? There is nothing further--no -mysteries beyond? ..." and Dr. Dean's eyes glittered as he -stretched forth one thin, slight hand and pointed into space with -the word "beyond," an action which gave it a curious emphasis, and -for a fleeting second left a weird impression on even the careless -mind of Gervase. But he laughed it off lightly. - -"Nothing beyond? Of course not! My dear sir, why ask such a -question? Nothing can be plainer or more positive than the fact -that death, as you say, finishes all." - -A woman's laugh, low and exquisitely musical, rippled on the air -as he spoke--delicious laughter, rarer than song; for women as a -rule laugh too loudly, and the sound of their merriment partakes -more of the nature of a goose's cackle than any other sort of -natural melody. But this large, soft and silvery, was like a -delicately subdued cadence played on a magic flute in the -distance, and suggested nothing but sweetness; and at the sound of -it Gervase started violently and turned sharply round upon his -friend Murray with a look of wonderment and perplexity. - -"Who is that?" he demanded. "I have heard that pretty laugh -before; it must be some one I know." - -But Denzil scarcely heard him. Pale, and with eyes full of -yearning and passion, he was watching the slow approach of a group -of people in fancy dress, who were all eagerly pressing round one -central figure--the figure of a woman clad in gleaming golden -tissues and veiled in the old Egyptian fashion up to the eyes, -with jewels flashing about her waist, bosom and hair,--a woman who -moved glidingly as if she floated rather than walked, and whose -beauty, half hidden as it was by the exigencies of the costume she -had chosen, was so unusual and brilliant that it seemed to create -an atmosphere of bewilderment and rapture around her as she came. -She was preceded by a small Nubian boy in a costume of vivid -scarlet, who, walking backwards humbly, fanned her slowly with a -tall fan of peacock's plumes made after the quaint designs of -ancient Egypt. The lustre radiating from the peacock's feathers, -the light of her golden garments, her jewels and the marvellous -black splendor of her eyes, all flashed for a moment like sudden -lightning on Gervase; something--he knew not what--turned him -giddy and blind; hardly knowing what he did, he sprang eagerly -forward, when all at once he felt the lean, small hand of Dr. Dean -on his arm and stopped short embarrassed. - -"Pardon me!" said the little savant, with a delicate, half- -supercilious lifting of his eyebrows. "But--do you know the -Princess Ziska?" - - - - -CHAPTER II. - - -Gervase stared at him, still dazzled and confused. - -"Whom did you say? ... the Princess Ziska? ... No, I don't know -her ... Yet, stay! Yes, I think I have seen her ... somewhere,--in -Paris, possibly. Will you introduce me?" - -"I leave that duty to Mr. Denzil Murray," said the Doctor, folding -his arms neatly behind his back ... "He knows her better than I -do." - -And smiling his little grim, cynical smile, he settled his -academic cap more firmly on his head and strolled off towards the -ballroom. Gervase stood irresolute, his eyes fixed on that -wondrous golden figure that floated before his eyes like an aerial -vision. Denzil Murray had gone forward to meet the Princess and -was now talking to her, his handsome face radiating with the -admiration he made no attempt to conceal. After a little pause -Gervase moved towards him a step or two, and caught part of the -conversation. - -"You look the very beau-ideal of an Egyptian Princess," Murray was -saying. "Your costume is perfect." - -She laughed. Again that sweet, rare laughter! Gervase thrilled -with the pulsation of it,--it beat in his ears and smote his brain -with a strange echo of familiarity. - -"Is it not?" she responded. "I am 'historically correct,' as your -friend Dr. Dean would say. My ornaments are genuine,--they all -came out of the same tomb." - -"I find one fault with your attire, Princess," said one of the -male admirers who had entered with her; "part of your face is -veiled. That is a cruelty to us all!" - -She waived the compliment aside with a light gesture. - -"It was the fashion in ancient Egypt," she said. "Love in those -old days was not what it is now,--one glance, one smile was -sufficient to set the soul on fire and draw another soul towards -it to consume together in the suddenly kindled flame! And women -veiled their faces in youth, lest they should be deemed too -prodigal of their charms; and in age they covered themselves still -more closely, in order not to affront the Sun-God's fairness by -their wrinkles." She smiled, a dazzling smile that drew Gervase -yet a few steps closer unconsciously, as though he were being -magnetized. "But I am not bound to keep the veil always up," and -as she spoke she loosened it and let it fall, showing an exquisite -face, fair as a lily, and of such perfect loveliness that the men -who were gathered round her seemed to lose breath and speech at -sight of it. "That pleases you better, Mr. Murray?" - -Denzil grew very pale. Bending down he murmured something to her -in a low tone. She raised her lovely brows with a little touch of -surprise that was half disdain, and looked at him straightly. - -"You say very pretty things; but they do not always please me," -she observed. "However, that is my fault, no doubt." - -And she began to move onwards, her Nubian page preceding her as -before. Gervase stood in her path and confronted her as she came. - -"Introduce me," he said in a commanding tone to Denzil. - -Denzil looked at him, somewhat startled by the suppressed passion -in his voice. - -"Certainly. Princess, permit me!" She paused, a figure of silent -grace and attention. "Allow me to present to you my friend, Armand -Gervase, the most famous artist in France--Gervase, the Princess -Ziska." - -She raised her deep, dark eyes and fixed them on his face, and as -he looked boldly at her in a kind of audacious admiration, he felt -again that strange dizzying shock which had before thrilled him -through and through. There was something strangely familiar about -her; the faint odors that seemed exhaled from her garments,--the -gleam of the jewel-winged scarabei on her breast,--the weird light -of the emerald-studded serpent in her hair; and more, much more -familiar than these trifles, was the sound of her voice--dulcet, -penetrating, grave and haunting in its tone. - -"At last we meet, Monsieur Armand Gervase!" she said slowly and -with a graceful inclination of her head. "But I cannot look upon -you as a stranger, for I have known you so long--in spirit!" - -She smiled--a strange smile, dazzling yet enigmatical--and -something wild and voluptuous seemed to stir in Gervase's pulses -as he touched the small hand, loaded with quaint Egyptian gems, -which she graciously extended towards him. - -"I think I have known you, too!" he said. "Possibly in a dream,--a -dream of beauty never realized till now!" - -His voice sank to an amorous whisper; but she said nothing in -reply, nor could her looks be construed into any expression of -either pleasure or offence. Yet through the heart of young Denzil -Murray went a sudden pang of jealousy, and for the first time in -his life he became conscious that even among men as well as women -there may exist what is called the "petty envy" of a possible -rival, and the uneasy desire to outshine such an one in all points -of appearance, dress and manner. His gaze rested broodingly on the -tall, muscular form of Gervase, and he noted the symmetry and -supple grace of the man with an irritation of which he was -ashamed. He knew, despite his own undeniably handsome personality, -which was set off to such advantage that night by the richness of -the Florentine costume he had adopted, that there was a certain -fascination about Gervase which was inborn, a trick of manner -which made him seem picturesque at all times; and that even when -the great French artist had stayed with him in Scotland and got -himself up for the occasion in more or less baggy tweeds, people -were fond of remarking that the only man who ever succeeded in -making tweeds look artistic was Armand Gervase. And in the white -Bedouin garb he now wore he was seen at his best; a certain -restless passion betrayed in eyes and lips made him look the -savage part he had "dressed" for, and as he bent his head over the -Princess Ziska's hand and kissed it with an odd mingling of -flippancy and reverence, Denzil suddenly began to think how -curiously alike they were, these two! Strong man and fair woman, -both had many physical points in common,--the same dark, level -brows,--the same half wild, half tender eyes,--the same sinuous -grace of form,--the same peculiar lightness of movement,--and yet -both were different, while resembling each other. It was not what -is called a "family likeness" which existed between them; it was -the cast of countenance or "type" that exists between races or -tribes, and had young Murray not known his friend Gervase to be a -French Provencal and equally understood the Princess Ziska to be -of Russian origin, he would have declared them both, natives of -Egypt, of the purest caste and highest breeding. He was so struck -by this idea that he might have spoken his thought aloud had he -not heard Gervase boldly arranging dance after dance with the -Princess, and apparently preparing to write no name but hers down -the entire length of his ball programme,--a piece of audacity -which had the effect of rousing Denzil to assert his own rights. - -"You promised me the first waltz, Princess," he said, his face -flushing as he spoke. - -"Quite true! And you shall have it," she replied, smiling. -"Monsieur Gervase will have the second. The music sounds very -inviting; shall we not go in?" - -"We spoil the effect of your entree crowding about you like this," -said Denzil, glancing somewhat sullenly at Gervase and the other -men surrounding her; "and, by the way, you have never told us what -character you represent to-night; some great queen of old time, no -doubt?" - -"No, I lay no claim to sovereignty," she answered; "I am for to- -night the living picture of a once famous and very improper person -who bore half my name, a dancer of old time, known as 'Ziska- -Charmazel,' the favorite of the harem of a great Egyptian warrior, -described in forgotten histories as 'The Mighty Araxes.'" - -She paused; her admirers, fascinated by the sound of her voice, -were all silent. She fixed her eyes upon Gervase; and addressing -him only, continued: - -"Yes, I am 'Charmazel,'" she said. "She was, as I tell you, an -'improper' person, or would be so considered by the good English -people. Because, you know, she was never married to Araxes!" - -This explanation, given with the demurest naivete, caused a laugh -among her listeners. - -"That wouldn't make her 'improper' in France," said Gervase gayly. -"She would only seem more interesting." - -"Ah! Then modern France is like old Egypt?" she queried, still -smiling. "And Frenchmen can be found perhaps who are like Araxes -in the number of their loves and infidelities?" - -"I should say my country is populated entirely with copies of -him," replied Gervase, mirthfully. "Was he a very distinguished -personage?" - -"He was. Old legends say he was the greatest warrior of his time; -as you, Monsieur Gervase, are the greatest artist." - -Gervase bowed. - -"You flatter me, fair Charmazel!" he said; then suddenly as the -strange name passed his lips he recoiled as if he had been stung, -and seemed for a moment dazed. The Princess turned her dark eyes -on him inquiringly. - -"Something troubles you, Monsieur Gervase?" she asked. - -His brows knitted in a perplexed frown. - -"Nothing ... the heat ... the air ... a trifle, I assure you? Will -you not join the dancers? Denzil, the music calls you. When your -waltz with the Princess is ended I shall claim my turn. For the -moment ... au revoir!" - -He stood aside and let the little group pass him by: the Princess -Ziska moving with her floating, noiseless grace, Denzil Murray -beside her, the little Nubian boy waving the peacock-plumes in -front of them both, and all the other enslaved admirers of this -singularly attractive woman crowding together behind. He watched -the little cortege with strained, dim sight, till just at the -dividing portal between the lounge and the ballroom the Princess -turned and looked back at him with a smile. Over all the -intervening heads their eyes met in one flash of mutual -comprehension! then, as the fair face vanished like a light -absorbed into the lights beyond it, Gervase, left alone, dropped -heavily into a chair and stared vaguely at the elaborate pattern -of the thick carpet at his feet. Passing his hand across his -forehead he withdrew it, wet with drops of perspiration. - -"What is wrong with me?" he muttered. "Am I sickening for a fever -before I have been forty-eight hours in Cairo? What fool's notion -is this in my brain? Where have I seen her before? In Paris? St. -Petersburg? London? Charmazel! ... Charmazel! ... What has the -name to do with me? Ziska-Charmazel! It is like the name of a -romance or a gypsy tune. Bah! I must be dreaming! Her face, her -eyes, are perfectly familiar; where, where have I seen her and -played the mad fool with her before? Was she a model at one of the -studios? Have I seen her by chance thus in her days of poverty, -and does her image recall itself vividly now despite her changed -surroundings? I know the very perfume of her hair ... it seems to -creep into my blood ... it intoxicates me ... it chokes me! ..." - -He sprang up with a fierce gesture, then after a minute's pause -sat down again, and again stared at the floor. - -The gay music from the ball-room danced towards him on the air in -sweet, broken echoes,--he heard nothing and saw nothing. - -"My God!" he said at last, under his breath. "Can it be possible -that I love this woman?" - - - - -CHAPTER III. - - -Within the ball-room the tide of gayety was rising to its height. -It may be a very trivial matter, yet it is certain that fancy -dress gives a peculiar charm, freedom, and brightness to -festivities of the kind; and men who in the ordinary mournful -black evening-suit would be taciturn of speech and conventional in -bearing, throw off their customary reserve when they find -themselves in the brilliant and becoming attire of some -picturesque period when dress was an art as well as a fashion; and -not only do they look their best, but they somehow manage to put -on "manner" with costume, and to become courteous, witty, and -graceful to a degree that sometimes causes their own relatives to -wonder at them and speculate as to why they have grown so suddenly -interesting. Few have read Sartor Resartus with either -comprehension or profit, and are therefore unaware, as -Teufelsdrockh was, that "Society is founded upon Cloth"--i.e. that -man does adapt his manners very much to suit his clothes; and that -as the costume of the days of Louis Quinze or Louis Seize inspired -graceful deportment and studied courtesy to women, so does the -costume of our nineteenth century inspire brusque demeanor and -curt forms of speech, which, however sincere, are not flattering -to the fair sex. - -More love-making goes on at a fancy-dress ball than at an ordinary -one; and numerous were the couples that strolled through the -corridors and along the terraces of the Gezireh Palace Hotel when, -after the first dozen dances were ended, it was discovered that -one of the most glorious of full moons had risen over the turrets -and minarets of Cairo, illumining every visible object with as -clear a lustre as that of day. Then it was that warriors and -nobles of mediaeval days were seen strolling with mythological -goddesses and out-of-date peasants of Italy and Spain; then -audacious "toreadors" were perceived whispering in the ears of -crowned queens, and clowns were caught lingering amorously by the -side of impossible flower-girls of all nations. Then it was that -Sir Chetwynd Lyle, with his paunch discreetly restrained within -the limits of a Windsor uniform which had been made for him some -two or three years since, paced up and down complacently in the -moonlight, watching his two "girls," Muriel and Dolly, doing -business with certain "eligibles"; then it was that Lady -Fulkeward, fearfully and wonderfully got up as the "Duchess of -Gainsborough" sidled to and fro, flirted with this man, flouted -that, giggled, shrugged her shoulders, waved her fan, and -comported herself altogether as if she were a hoyden of seventeen -just let loose from school for the holidays. And then the worthy -Dr. Maxwell Dean, somewhat exhausted by vigorous capering in the -"Lancers," strolled forth to inhale the air, fanning himself with -his cap as he walked, and listening keenly to every chance word or -sentence he could hear, whether it concerned himself or not. He -had peculiar theories, and one of them was, as he would tell you, -that if you overheard a remark apparently not intended for you, -you were to make yourself quite easy, as it was "a point of -predestination" that you should at that particular moment, -consciously or unconsciously, play the eavesdropper. The reason of -it would, he always averred, be explained to you later on in your -career. The well-known saying "listeners never hear any good of -themselves" was, he declared, a most ridiculous aphorism. "You -overhear persons talking and you listen. Very well. It may chance -that you hear yourself abused. What then? Nothing can be so good -for you as such abuse; the instruction given is twofold; it warns -you against foes whom you have perhaps considered friends, and it -tones down any overweening conceit you may have had concerning -your own importance or ability. Listen to everything if you are -wise--I always do. I am an old and practised listener. And I have -never listened in vain. All the information I have gained through -listening, though apparently at first disconnected and -unclassified, has fitted into my work like the stray pieces of a -puzzle, and has proved eminently useful. Wherever I am I always -keep my ears well open." - -With such views as he thus entertained, life was always enormously -interesting to Dr. Dean--he found nothing tiresome, not even the -conversation of the type known as Noodle. The Noodle was as -curious a specimen of nature to him as the emu or the crocodile. -And as he turned up his intellectual little physiognomy to the -deep, warm Egyptian sky and inhaled the air sniffingly, as though -it were a monster scent-bottle just uncorked for his special -gratification, he smiled as he observed Muriel Chetwynd Lyle -standing entirely alone at the end of the terrace, attired as a -"Boulogne fish-wife," and looking daggers after the hastily- -retreating figure of a "White Hussar,"--no other than Ross -Courtney. - -"How extremely droll a 'Boulogne fish-wife' looks in Egypt," -commented the Doctor to his inward self. "Remarkable! The -incongruity is peculiarly typical of the Chetwynd Lyles. The -costume of the young woman is like the knighthood of her father,-- -droll, droll, very droll!" Aloud he said--"Why are you not -dancing, Miss Muriel?" - -"Oh, I don't know--I'm tired," she said, petulantly. "Besides, all -the men are after that Ziska woman,--they seem to have lost their -heads about her!" - -"Ah!" and Dr. Dean rubbed his hands. "Yes--possibly! Well, she is -certainly very beautiful." - -"I cannot see it!" and Muriel Chetwynd Lyle flushed with the -inward rage which could not be spoken. "It's the way she dresses -more than her looks. Nobody knows who she is--but they do not seem -to care about that. They are all raving like lunatics over her, -and that man--that artist who arrived here to-day, Armand -Gervase,--seems the maddest of the lot. Haven't you noticed how -often he has danced with her?" - -"I couldn't help noticing that," said the Doctor, emphatically, -"for I have never seen anything more exquisite than the way they -waltz together. Physically, they seem made for one another." - -Muriel laughed disdainfully. - -"You had better tell Mr. Denzil Murray that; he is in a bad enough -humor now, and that remark of yours wouldn't improve it, I can -tell you!" - -She broke off abruptly, as a slim, fair girl, dressed as a Greek -vestal in white, with a chaplet of silver myrtle-leaves round her -hair, suddenly approached and touched Dr. Dean on the arm. - -"Can I speak to you a moment?" she asked. - -"My dear Miss Murray! Of course!" and the Doctor turned to her at -once. "What is it?" - -She paced with him a few steps in silence, while Muriel Chetwynd -Lyle moved languidly away from the terrace and re-entered the -ball-room. - -"What is it?" repeated Dr. Dean. "You seem distressed; come, tell -me all about it!" - -Helen Murray lifted her eyes--the soft, violet-gray eyes that Lord -Fulkeward had said he admired--suffused with tears, and fixed them -on the old man's face. - -"I wish," she said--"I wish we had never come to Egypt! I feel as -if some great misfortune were going to happen to us; I do, indeed! -Oh, Dr. Dean, have you watched my brother this evening?" - -"I have," he replied, and then was silent. - -"And what do you think?" she asked anxiously. "How can you account -for his strangeness--his roughness--even to me?" - -And the tears brimmed over and fell, despite her efforts to -restrain them. Dr. Dean stopped in his walk and took her two hands -in his own. - -"My dear Helen, it's no use worrying yourself like this," he said. -"Nothing can stop the progress of the Inevitable. I have watched -Denzil, I have watched the new arrival, Armand Gervase, I have -watched the mysterious Ziska, and I have watched you! Well, what -is the result? The Inevitable,--simply the unconquerable -Inevitable. Denzil is in love, Gervase is in love, everybody is in -love, except me and one other! It is a whole network of mischief, -and I am the unhappy fly that has unconsciously fallen into the -very middle of it. But the spider, my dear,--the spider who wove -the web in the first instance,--is the Princess Ziska, and she is -NOT in love! She is the other one. She is not in love with anybody -any more than I am. She's got something else on her mind--I don't -know what it is exactly, but it isn't love. Excluding her and -myself, the whole hotel is in love--YOU are in love!" - -Helen withdrew her hands from his grasp and a deep flush reddened -her fair face. - -"I!" she stammered--"Dr. Dean, you are mistaken. ..." - -"Dr. Dean was never mistaken on love-matters in his life," said -that self-satisfied sage complacently. "Now, my dear, don't be -offended. I have known both you and your brother ever since you -were left little orphan children together; if I cannot speak -plainly to you, who can? You are in love, little Helen--and very -unwisely, too--with the man Gervase. I have heard of him often, -but I never saw him before to-night. And I don't approve of him." - -Helen grew as pale as she had been rosy, and her face as the -moonlight fell upon it was very sorrowful. - -"He stayed with us in Scotland two summers ago," she said softly. -"He was very agreeable..." - -"Ha! No doubt! He made a sort of love to you then, I suppose. I -can imagine him doing it very well! There is a nice romantic glen -near your house--just where the river runs, and where I caught a -fifteen-pound salmon some five years ago. Ha! Catching salmon is -healthy work; much better than falling in love. No, no, Helen! -Gervase is not good enough for you; you want a far better man. Has -he spoken to you to-night?" - -"Oh, yes! And he has danced with me." - -"Ha! How often?" - -"Once." - -"And how many times with the Princess Ziska?" - -Helen's fair head drooped, and she answered nothing. All at once -the little Doctor's hand closed on her arm with a soft yet firm -grip. - -"Look!" he whispered. - -She raised her eyes and saw two figures step out on the terrace -and stand in the full moonlight,--the white Bedouin dress of the -one and the glittering golden robe of the other made them easily -recognizable,--they were Gervase and the Princess Ziska. Helen -gave a faint, quick sigh. - -"Let us go in," she said. - -"Nonsense! Why should we go in? On the contrary, let us join -them." - -"Oh, no!" and Helen shrank visibly at the very idea. "I cannot; do -not ask me! I have tried--you know I have tried--to like the -Princess; but something in her--I don't know what it is--repels -me. To speak truthfully, I think I am afraid of her." - -"Afraid! Pooh! Why should you be afraid? It is true one doesn't -often see a woman with the eyes of a vampire-bat; but there is -nothing to be frightened about. I have dissected the eyes of a -vampire-bat--very interesting work, very. The Princess has them-- -only, of course, hers are larger and finer; but there is exactly -the same expression in them. I am fond of study, you know; I am -studying her. What! Are you determined to run away?" - -"I am engaged for this dance to Mr. Courtney," said Helen, -nervously. - -"Well, well! We'll resume our conversation another time," and Dr. -Dean took her hand and patted it pleasantly. "Don't fret yourself -about Denzil; he'll be all right. And take my advice: don't marry -a Bedouin chief; marry an honest, straightforward, tender-hearted -Englishman who'll take care of you, not a nondescript savage -who'll desert you!" - -And with a humorous and kindly smile, Dr. Dean moved off to join -the two motionless and picturesque figures that stood side by side -looking at the moon, while Helen, like a frightened bird suddenly -released, fled precipitately back to the ball-room, where Ross -Courtney was already searching for her as his partner in the next -waltz. - -"Upon my word," mused the Doctor, "this is a very pretty kettle of -fish! The Gezireh Palace Hotel is not a hotel at all, it seems to -me; it is a lunatic asylum. What with Lady Fulkeward getting -herself up as twenty at the age of sixty; and Muriel and Dolly -Chetwynd Lyle man-hunting with more ferocity than sportsmen hunt -tigers; Helen in love, Denzil in love, Gervase in love--dear me! -dear me! What a list of subjects for a student's consideration! -And the Princess Ziska ..." - -He broke off his meditations abruptly, vaguely impressed by the -strange solemnity of the night. An equal solemnity seemed to -surround the two figures to which he now drew nigh, and as the -Princess Ziska turned her eyes upon him as he came, he was, to his -own vexation, aware that something indefinable disturbed his usual -equanimity and gave him an unpleasant thrill. - -"You are enjoying a moonlight stroll, Doctor?" she inquired. - -Her veil was now cast aside in a careless fold of soft drapery -over her shoulders, and her face in its ethereal delicacy of -feature and brilliant coloring looked almost too beautiful to be -human. Dr. Dean did not reply for a moment; he was thinking what a -singular resemblance there was between Armand Gervase and one of -the figures on a certain Egyptian fresco in the British Museum. - -"Enjoying--er--er--a what?--a moonlight stroll? Exactly--er--yes! -Pardon me, Princess, my mind often wanders, and I am afraid I am -getting a little deaf as well. Yes, I find the night singularly -conducive to meditation; one cannot be in a land like this under a -sky like this"--and he pointed to the shining heaven--"without -recalling the great histories of the past." - -"I daresay they were very much like the histories of the present," -said Gervase smiling. - -"I should doubt that. History is what man makes it; and the -character of man in the early days of civilization was, I think, -more forceful, more earnest, more strong of purpose, more bent on -great achievements." - -"The principal achievement and glory being to kill as many of -one's fellow-creatures as possible!" laughed Gervase--"Like the -famous warrior, Araxes, of whom the Princess has just been telling -me!" - -"Araxes was great, but now Araxes is a forgotten hero," said the -Princess slowly, each accent of her dulcet voice chiming on the -ear like the stroke of a small silver bell. "None of the modern -discoverers know anything about him yet. They have not even found -his tomb; but he was buried in the Pyramids with all the honors of -a king. No doubt your clever men will excavate him some day." - -"I think the Pyramids have been very thoroughly explored," said -Dr. Dean. "Nothing of any importance remains in them now." - -The Princess arched her lovely eyebrows. - -"No? Ah! I daresay you know them better than I do!" and she -laughed, a laugh which was not mirthful so much as scornful. - -"I am very much interested in Araxes," said Gervase then, "partly, -I suppose, because he is as yet in the happy condition of being an -interred mummy. Nobody has dug him up, unwound his cerements, or -photographed him, and his ornaments have not been stolen. And in -the second place I am interested in him because it appears he was -in love with the famous dancer of his day whom the Princess -represents to-night,--Charmazel. I wish I had heard the story -before I came to Cairo; I would have got myself up as Araxes in -person to-night." - -"In order to play the lover of Charmazel?" queried the Doctor. - -"Exactly!" replied Gervase with flashing eyes; "I daresay I could -have acted the part." - -"I should imagine you could act any part," replied the Doctor, -blandly. "The role of love-making comes easily to most men." - -The Princess looked at him as he spoke and smiled. The jewelled -scarab, set as a brooch on her bosom, flashed luridly in the moon, -and in her black eyes there was a similar lurid gleam. - -"Come and talk to me," she said, laying her hand on his arm; "I am -tired, and the conversation of one's ball-room partners is very -banal. Monsieur Gervase would like me to dance all night, I -imagine; but I am too lazy. I leave such energy to Lady Fulkeward -and to all the English misses and madams. I love indolence." - -"Most Russian women do, I think," observed the Doctor. - -She laughed. - -"But I am not Russian!" - -"I know. I never thought you were," he returned composedly; "but -everyone in the hotel has come to the conclusion that you are!" - -"They are all wrong! What can I do to put them right?" she -inquired with a fascinating little upward movement of her -eyebrows. - -"Nothing! Leave them in their ignorance. I shall not enlighten -them, though I know your nationality." - -"You do?" and a curious shadow darkened her features. "But perhaps -you are wrong also!" - -"I think not," said the Doctor, with gentle obstinacy. "You are an -Egyptian. Born in Egypt; born OF Egypt. Pure Eastern! There is -nothing Western about you. Is not it so?" - -She looked at him enigmatically. - -"You have made a near guess," she replied; "but you are not -absolutely correct. Originally, I am of Egypt." - -Dr. Dean nodded pleasantly. - -"Originally,--yes. That is precisely what I mean--originally! Let -me take you in to supper." - -He offered his arm, but Gervase made a hasty step forward. - -"Princess," he began-- - -She waved him off lightly. - -"My dear Monsieur Gervase, we are not in the desert, where Bedouin -chiefs do just as they like. We are in a modern hotel in Cairo, -and all the good English mammas will be dreadfully shocked if I am -seen too much with you. I have danced with you five times, -remember! And I will dance with you once more before I leave. When -our waltz begins, come and find me in the upper-room." - -She moved away on Dr. Dean's arm, and Gervase moodily drew back -and let her pass. When she had gone, he lit a cigarette and walked -impatiently up and down the terrace, a heavy frown wrinkling his -brows. The shadow of a man suddenly darkened the moonlight in -front of him, and Denzil Murray's hand fell on his shoulder. - -"Gervase," he said, huskily, "I must speak to you." - -Gervase glanced him up and down, taking note of his pale face and -wild eyes with a certain good-humored regret and compassion. - -"Say on, my friend." - -Denzil looked straight at him, biting his lips hard and clenching -his hands in the effort to keep down some evidently violent -emotion. - -"The Princess Ziska," he began,-- - -Gervase smiled, and flicked the ash off his cigarette. - -"The Princess Ziska," he echoed,--"Yes? What of her? She seems to -be the only person talked about in Cairo. Everybody in this hotel, -at any rate, begins conversation with precisely the same words as -you do,--'the Princess Ziska!' Upon my life, it is very amusing!" - -"It is not amusing to me," said Denzil, bitterly. "To me it is a -matter of life and death." He paused, and Gervase looked at him -curiously. "We've always been such good friends, Gervase," he -continued, "that I should be sorry if anything came between us -now, so I think it is better to make a clean breast of it and -speak out plainly." Again he hesitated, his face growing still -paler, then with a sudden ardent light glowing in his eyes he -said--"Gervase, I love the Princess Ziska!" - -Gervase threw away his cigarette and laughed aloud with a wild -hilarity. - -"My good boy, I am very sorry for you! Sorry, too, for myself! I -deplore the position in which we are placed with all my heart and -soul. It is unfortunate, but it seems inevitable. You love the -Princess Ziska,--and by all the gods of Egypt and Christendom, so -do I!" - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - - -Denzil recoiled a step backward, then with an impulsive movement -strode close up to him, his face unnaturally flushed and his eyes -glittering with an evil fire. - -"You--you love her! What!--in one short hour, you--who have often -boasted to me of having no heart, no eyes for women except as -models for your canvas,--you say now that you love a woman whom -you have never seen before to-night!" - -"Stop!" returned Gervase somewhat moodily, "I am not so sure about -that. I HAVE seen her before, though where I cannot tell. But the -fire that stirs my pulses now seems to spring from some old -passion suddenly revived, and the eyes of the woman we are both -mad for--well! they do not inspire holiness, my dear friend! No,-- -neither in you nor in me! Let us be honest with each other. There -is something vile in the composition of Madame la Princesse, and -it responds to something equally vile in ourselves. We shall be -dragged down by the force of it,--tant pis pour nous! I am sorrier -for you than for myself, for you are a good fellow, au fond; you -have what the world is learning to despise--sentiment. I have -none; for as I told you before, I have no heart, but I have -passions--tigerish ones--which must be humored; in fact, I make it -my business in life to humor them." - -"Do you intend to humor them in this instance?" - -"Assuredly! If I can." - -"Then,--friend as you have been, you can be friend no more," said -Denzil fiercely. "My God! Do you not understand? My blood is as -warm as yours,--I will not yield to you one smile, one look from -Ziska! No!--I will kill you first!" - -Gervase looked at him calmly. - -"Will you? Pauvre garcon! You are such a boy still, Denzil,--by- -the-bye, how old are you? Ah, I remember now,--twenty-two. Only -twenty-two, and I am thirty-eight! So in the measure of time -alone, your life is more valuable to you than mine is to me. If -you choose, therefore, you can kill me,--now, if you like! I have -a very convenient dagger in my belt--I think it has a point--which -you are welcome to use for the purpose; but, for heaven's sake, -don't rant about it--do it! You can kill me--of course you can; -but you cannot--mark this well, Denzil!--you cannot prevent my -loving the same woman whom you love. I think instead of raving -about the matter here in the moonlight, which has the effect of -making us look like two orthodox villains in a set stage-scene, -we'd better make the best of it, and resolve to abide by the -lady's choice in the matter. What say you? You have known her for -many days,--I have known her for two hours. You have had the first -innings, so you cannot complain." - -Here he playfully unfastened the Bedouin knife which hung at his -belt and offered it to Denzil, holding it delicately by the -glittering blade. - -"One thrust, my brave boy!" he said. "And you will stop the Ziska -fever in my veins at once and forever. But, unless you deal the -murderer's blow, the fever will go on increasing till it reaches -its extremest height, and then ..." - -"And then?" echoed Denzil. - -"Then? Oh--God only knows what then!" - -Denzil thrust away the offered weapon with a movement of aversion. - -"You can jest," he said. "You are always jesting. But you do not -know--you cannot read the horrible thoughts in my mind. I cannot -resolve their meaning even to myself. There is some truth in your -light words; I feel, I know instinctively, that the woman I love -has an attraction about her which is not good, but evil; yet what -does that matter? Do not men sometimes love vile women?" - -"Always!" replied Gervase briefly. - -"Gervase, I have suffered tortures ever since I saw her face!" -exclaimed the unhappy lad, his self-control suddenly giving way. -"You cannot imagine what my life has been! Her eyes make me mad,-- -the merest touch of her hand seems to drag me away invisibly ..." - -"To perdition!" finished Gervase. "That is the usual end of the -journey we men take with beautiful women." - -"And now," went on Denzil, hardly heeding him, "as if my own -despair were not sufficient, you must needs add to it! What evil -fate, I wonder, sent you to Cairo! Of course, I have no chance -with her now; you are sure to win the day. And can you wonder then -that I feel as if I could kill you?" - -"Oh, I wonder at nothing," said Gervase calmly, "except, perhaps, -at myself. And I echo your words most feelingly,--What evil fate -sent me to Cairo? I cannot tell! But here I purpose to remain. My -dear Murray, don't let us quarrel if we can help it; it is such a -waste of time. I am not angry with you for loving la belle Ziska,- --try, therefore, not to be angry with me. Let the fair one herself -decide as to our merits. My own opinion is that she cares for -neither of us, and, moreover, that she never will care for any one -except her fascinating self. And certainly her charms are quite -enough to engross her whole attention. By the way, let me ask you, -Denzil, in this headstrong passion of yours,--for it is a -headstrong passion, just as mine is,--do you actually intend to -make the Ziska your wife if she will have you?" - -"Of course," replied Murray, with some haughtiness. - -A fleeting expression of amusement flitted over Gervase's -features. - -"It is very honorable of you," he said, "very! My dear boy, you -shall have your full chance. Because I--I would not make the -Princess Madame Gervase for all the world! She is not formed for a -life of domesticity--and pardon me--I cannot picture her as the -contented chatelaine of your grand old Scotch castle in Ross- -shire." - -"Why not?" - -"From an artistic point of view the idea is incongruous," said -Gervase lazily. "Nevertheless, I will not interfere with your -wooing." - -Denzil's face brightened. - -"You will not?" - -"I will not--I promise! But"--and here Gervase paused, looking his -young friend full in the eyes, "remember, if your chance falls to -the ground--if Madame gives you your conge--if she does not -consent to be a Scottish chatelaine and listen every day to the -bagpipes at dinner,--you cannot expect me then to be indifferent -to my own desires. She shall not be Madame Gervase,--oh, no! She -shall not be asked to attend to the pot-au-feu; she shall act the -role for which she has dressed to-night; she shall be another -Charmazel to another Araxes, though the wild days of Egypt are no -more!" - -A sudden shiver ran through him as he spoke, and instinctively he -drew the white folds of his picturesque garb closer about him. - -"There is a chill wind sweeping in from the desert," he said, "an -evil, sandy breath tasting of mummy-dust blown through the -crevices of the tombs of kings. Let us go in." - -Murray looked at him in a kind of dull despair. - -"And what is to be done?" he asked. "I cannot answer for myself-- -and--from what you say, neither can you." - -"My dear friend--or foe--whichever you determine to be, I can -answer for myself in one particular at any rate, namely, that as I -told you, I shall not ask the Princess to marry me. You, on the -contrary, will do so. Bonne chance! I shall do nothing to prevent -Madame from accepting the honorable position you intend to offer -her. And till the fiat has gone forth and the fair one has -decided, we will not fly at each other's throats like wolves -disputing possession of a lamb; we will assume composure, even if -we have it not." He paused, and laid one hand kindly on the -younger man's shoulder, "Is it agreed?" - -Denzil gave a mute sign of resigned acquiescence. - -"Good! I like you, Denzil; you are a charming boy! Hot-tempered -and a trifle melodramatic in your loves and hatreds,--yes!--for -that you might have been a Provencal instead of a Scot. Before I -knew you I had a vague idea that all Scotchmen were, or needs must -be, ridiculous,--I don't know why. I associated them with -bagpipes, short petticoats and whisky. I had no idea of the type -you so well represent,--the dark, fine eyes, the strong physique, -and the impetuous disposition which suggests the South rather than -the North; and to-night you look so unlike the accepted cafe -chantant picture of the ever-dancing Highlander that you might in -very truth be a Florentine in more points than the dress which so -well becomes you. Yes,--I like you--and more than you, I like your -sister. That is why I don't want to quarrel with you; I wouldn't -grieve Mademoiselle Helen for the world." - -Murray gave him a quick, half-angry side-glance. - -"You are a strange fellow, Gervase. Two summers ago you were -almost in love with Helen." - -Gervase sighed. - -"True. Almost. That's just it. 'Almost' is a very uncomfortable -word. I have been almost in love so many times. I have never been -drawn by a woman's eyes and dragged down, down,--in a mad -whirlpool of sweetness and poison intermixed. I have never had my -soul strangled by the coils of a woman's hair--black hair, black -as night,--in the perfumed meshes of which a jewelled serpent -gleams ... I have never felt the insidious horror of a love like -strong drink mounting through the blood to the brain, and there -making inextricable confusion of time, space, eternity, -everything, except the passion itself; never, never have I felt -all this, Denzil, till to-night! To-night! Bah! It is a wild night -of dancing and folly, and the Princess Ziska is to blame for it -all! Don't look so tragic, my good Denzil,--what ails you now?" - -"What ails me? Good Heavens! Can you ask it!" and Murray gave a -gesture of mingled despair and impatience. "If you love her in -this wild, uncontrolled way ..." - -"It is the only way I know of," said Gervase. "Love must be wild -and uncontrolled to save it from banalite. It must be a summer -thunderstorm; the heavy brooding of the clouds of thought, the -lightning of desire, then the crash, the downpour,--and the end, -in which the bland sun smiles upon a bland world of dull but -wholesome routine and tame conventionality, making believe that -there never was such a thing known as the past storm! Be consoled, -Denzil, and trust me,--you shall have time to make your honorable -proposal, and Madame had better accept you,--for your love would -last,--mine could not!" - -He spoke with a strange fierceness and irritability, and his eyes -were darkened by a sudden shadow of melancholy. Denzil, bewildered -at his words and manner, stared at him in a kind of helpless -indignation. - -"Then you admit yourself to be cruel and unprincipled?" he said. - -Gervase smiled, with a little shrug of impatience. - -"Do I? I was not aware of it. Is inconstancy to women cruelty and -want of principle? If so, all men must bear the brunt of the -accusation with me. For men were originally barbarians, and always -looked upon women as toys or slaves; the barbaric taint is not out -of us yet, I assure you,--at any rate, it is not out of me. I am a -pure savage; I consider the love of woman as my right; if I win -it, I enjoy it as long as I please, but no longer,--and not all -the forces of heaven and earth should bind me to any woman I had -once grown weary of." - -"If that is your character," said Murray stiffly, "it were well -the Princess Ziska should know it." - -"True," and Gervase laughed loudly. "Tell her, man ami! Tell her -that Armand Gervase is an unprincipled villain, not worth a glance -from her dazzling eyes! It will be the way to make her adore me! -My good boy, do you not know that there is something very -marvellous in the attraction we call love? It is a pre-ordained -destiny,--and if one soul is so constituted that it must meet and -mix with another, nothing can hinder the operation. So that, -believe me, I am quite indifferent as to what you say of me to -Madame la Princesse or to anyone else. It will not be for either -my looks or my character that she will love me if, indeed, she -ever does love me; it will be for something indistinct, -indefinable but resistless in us both, which no one on earth can -explain. And now I must go, Denzil, and claim the fair one for -this waltz. Try and look less miserable, my dear fellow,--I will -not quarrel with you on the Princess's account, nor on any other -pretext if I can help it,--for I don't want to kill you, and I am -convinced your death and not mine would be the result of a fight -between us!" - -His eyes flashed under his straight, fierce brows with a sudden -touch of imperiousness, and his commanding presence became -magnetic, almost over-powering. Tormented with a dozen cross- -currents of feeling, young Denzil Murray was mute;--only his -breath came and went quickly, and there was a certain silently- -declared antagonism in his very attitude. Gervase saw it and -smiled; then turning away with his peculiarly noiseless step and -grace of bearing, he disappeared. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - - -Ten minutes later the larger number of dancers in the ball-room -came to a sudden pause in their gyrations and stood looking on in -open-mouthed, reluctantly-admiring wonderment at the exquisite -waltz movements of the Princess Ziska as she floated past them in -the arms of Gervase, who, as a "Bedouin chief," was perhaps only -acting his part aright when he held her to him with so passionate -and close a grip and gazed down upon her fair face with such a -burning ardor in his eyes. Nothing in the dancing world was ever -seen like the dancing of these two--nothing so languorously -beautiful as the swaying grace of their well-matched figures -gliding to the music in as perfectly harmonious a measure as a -bird's two wings beat to the pulsations of the air. People noticed -that as the Princess danced a tiny tinkling sound accompanied her -every step; and the more curious observers, peeping downwards as -she flew by, saw that she had kept to the details of ancient -Egyptian costume so exactly that she even wore sandals, and that -her feet, perfectly shaped and lovely as perfectly shaped and -lovely hands, were bare save for the sandal-ribbons which crossed -them, and which were fastened with jewels. Round the slim ankles -were light bands of gold, also glittering with gems, and -furthermore adorned by little golden bells which produced the -pretty tinkling music that attracted attention. - -"What a delightful creature she is!" said Lady Fulkeward, settling -her "Duchess of Gainsborough" hat on her powdered wig more -becomingly and smiling up in the face of Ross Courtney, who -happened to be standing close by. "So sweetly unconventional! -Everybody here thinks her improper; she may be, but I like her. -I'm not a bit of a prude." - -Courtney smiled irreverently at this. Prudery and "old" Lady -Fulkeward were indeed wide apart. Aloud he said: - -"I think whenever a woman is exceptionally beautiful she generally -gets reported as 'improper' by her own sex; especially if she has -a fascinating manner and dresses well." - -"So true," and Lady Fulkeward simpered. "Exactly what I find -wherever I go! Poor dear Ziska! She has to pay the penalty for -captivating all you men in the way she does. I'm sure YOU have -lost your heart to her quite as much as anybody else, haven't -you?" - -Courtney reddened. - -"I don't think so," he answered; "I admire her very much, but I -haven't lost my heart ..." - -"Naughty boy! Don't prevaricate!" and Lady Fulkeward smiled in the -bewitching pearly manner her admirably-made artificial teeth -allowed her to do. "Every man in the hotel is in love with the -Princess, and I'm sure I don't blame them. If I belonged to your -sex I should be in love with her too. As it is, I am in love with -the new arrival, that glorious creature, Gervase. He is superb! He -looks like an untamed savage. I adore handsome barbarians!" - -"He's scarcely a barbarian, I think," said Courtney, with some -amusement; "he is the great French artist, the 'lion' of Paris -just now,--only secondary to Sarah Bernhardt." - -"Artists are always barbarians," declared Lady Fulkeward -enthusiastically. "They paint naughty people without any clothes -on; they never have any idea of time; they never keep their -appointments; and they are always falling in love with the wrong -person and getting into trouble, which is so nice of them! That's -why I worship them all. They are so refreshingly unlike OUR set!" - -Courtney raised his eyebrows inquiringly. - -"You know what I mean by our set," went on the vivacious old -"Gainsborough," "the aristocrats whose conversation is limited to -the weather and scandal, and who are so frightfully dull! Dull! My -dear Ross you know how dull they are!" - -"Well, upon my word, they are," admitted Courtney. "You are right -there. I certainly agree with you." - -"I'm sure you do! They have no ideas. Now, artists have ideas,-- -they live on ideas and sentiment. Sentiment is such a beautiful -thing--so charming! I believe that fierce-looking Gervase is a -creature of sentiment--and how delightful that is! Of course, -he'll paint the Princess Ziska--he MUST paint her,--no one else -could do it so well. By the way, have you been asked to her great -party next week?" - -"Yes." - -"And are you going?" - -"Most assuredly." - -"So am I. That absurd Chetwynd Lyle woman came to me this evening -and asked me if I really thought it would be proper to take her -'girls' there," and Lady Fulkeward laughed shrilly. "Girls indeed! -I should say those two long, ugly women could go anywhere with -safety. 'Do you consider the Princess a proper woman?' she asked, -and I said, 'Certainly, as proper as you are.'" - -Courtney laughed outright, and began to think there was some fun -in Lady Fulkeward. - -"By Jove! Did you tell her that?" - -"I should think I did! Oh, I know a thing or two about the -Chetwynd Lyles, but I keep my mouth shut till it suits me to open -it. I said I was going, and then, of course, she said she would." - -"Naturally." - -And Courtney gave the answer vaguely, for the waltz was ended, and -the Princess Ziska, on the arm of Gervase, was leaving the ball- -room. - -"She's going," exclaimed Lady Fulkeward. "Dear creature! Excuse -me--I must speak to her for a moment." - -And with a swish of her full skirts and a toss of her huge hat and -feathers, the lively flirt of sixty tripped off with all the -agility of sixteen, leaving Courtney to follow her or remain where -he was, just as he chose. He hesitated, and during that undecided -pause was joined by Dr. Maxwell Dean. - -"A very brilliant and interesting evening!" said that individual, -smiling complacently. "I don't remember any time when I have -enjoyed myself so thoroughly." - -"Really! I shouldn't have thought you a man to care for fancy- -dress balls," said Courtney. - -"Shouldn't you? Ha! Well, some fancy-dress balls I might not care -for, but this one has been highly productive of entertainment in -every way, and several incidents connected with it have opened up -to me a new vista of research, the possibilities of which are--er- --very interesting and remarkable." - -"Indeed!" murmured Courtney indifferently, his eyes fixed on the -slim, supple figure of the Princess Ziska as she slowly moved amid -her circle of admirers out of the ball-room, her golden skirts -gleaming sun-like against the polished floor, and the jewels about -her flashing in vivid points of light from the hem of her robe to -the snake in her hair. - -"Yes," continued the Doctor, smiling and rubbing his hands, "I -think I have got the clue to a very interesting problem. But I see -you are absorbed--and no wonder! A charming woman, the Princess -Ziska--charming! Do you believe in ghosts?" - -This question was put with such unexpected abruptness that -Courtney was quite taken aback. - -"Ghosts?" he echoed. "No, I cannot say I do. I have never seen -one, and I have never heard of one that did not turn out a bogus." - -"Oh! I don't mean the usual sort of ghost," said the Doctor, -drawing his shelving brows together in a meditative knot of criss- -cross lines over his small, speculative eyes. "The ghost that is -common to Scotch castles and English manor-houses, and that -appears in an orthodox night-gown, sighs, screams, rattles chains -and bangs doors ad libitum. No, no! That kind of ghost is composed -of indigestion, aided by rats and a gust of wind. No; when I say -ghosts, I mean ghosts--ghosts that do not need the midnight hour -to evolve themselves into being, and that by no means vanish at -cock-crow. My ghosts are those that move about among us in social -intercourse for days, months--sometimes years--according to their -several missions; ghosts that talk to us, imitate our customs and -ways, shake hands with us, laugh and dance with us, and altogether -comport themselves like human beings. Those are my kind of ghosts- --'scientific' ghosts. There are hundreds, aye, perhaps thousands -of them in the world at this very moment." - -An uncomfortable shudder ran through Courtney's veins; the -Doctor's manner seemed peculiar and uncanny. - -"By Jove! I hope not!" he involuntarily exclaimed. "The orthodox -ghost is an infinitely better arrangement. One at least knows what -to expect. But a 'scientific' ghost that moves about in society, -resembling ourselves in every respect, appearing to be actually -human and yet having no humanity at all in its composition, is a -terrific notion indeed! You don't mean to say you believe in the -possibility of such an appalling creature?" - -"I not only believe it," answered the Doctor composedly, "I know -it!" - -Here the band crashed out "God save the Queen," which, as a witty -Italian once remarked, is the De Profundis of every English -festivity. - -"But--God bless my soul!" began Courtney ... - -"No, don't say that!" urged the Doctor. "Say 'God save the Queen.' -It's more British." - -"Bother 'God save the Queen,'" exclaimed Courtney impatiently.-- -"Look here, you don't mean it seriously, do you?" - -"I always mean everything seriously," said Dr. Dean,--"even my -jokes." - -"Now come, no nonsense, Doctor," and Courtney, taking his arm, led -him towards one of the windows opening out to the moonlit garden,- --"can you, as an honest man, assure me in sober earnest that there -are 'scientific ghosts' of the nature you describe?" - -The little Doctor surveyed the scenery, glanced up at the moon, -and then at his companion's pleasant but not very intelligent -face. - -"I would rather not discuss the matter," he said at last, with -some brusqueness. "There are certain subjects connected with -psychic phenomena on which it is best to be silent; besides, what -interest can such things have for you? You are a sportsman,--keep -to your big game, and leave ghost-hunting to me." - -"That is not a fair answer to my question," said Courtney, "I'm -sure I don't want to interfere with your researches in any way; I -only want to know if it is a fact that ghosts exist, and that they -are really of such a nature as to deserve the term 'scientific.'" - -Dr. Dean was silent a moment. Then, stretching out his small, thin -hand, he pointed to the clear sky, where the stars were almost -lost to sight in the brilliance of the moon. - -"Look out there!" he said, his voice thrilling with sudden and -solemn fervor. "There in the limitless ether move millions of -universes--vast creations which our finite brains cannot estimate -without reeling,--enormous forces always at work, in the mighty -movements of which our earth is nothing more than a grain of sand. -Yet far more marvellous than their size or number is the -mathematical exactitude of their proportions,--the minute -perfection of their balance,--the exquisite precision with which -every one part is fitted to another part, not a pin's point awry, -not a hair's breadth astray. Well, the same exactitude which rules -the formation and working of Matter controls the formation and -working of Spirit; and this is why I know that ghosts exist, and, -moreover, that we are COMPELLED by the laws of the phenomena -surrounding us to meet them every day." - -"I confess I do not follow you at all," said Courtney bewildered. - -"No," and Dr. Dean smiled curiously. "I have perhaps expressed -myself obscurely. Yet I am generally considered a clear exponent. -First of all, let me ask you, do you believe in the existence of -Matter?" - -"Why, of course!" - -"You do. Then you will no doubt admit that there is Something--an -Intelligent Principle or Spiritual Force--which creates and -controls this Matter?" - -Courtney hesitated. - -"Well, I suppose there must be," he said at last. "I'm not a -church-goer, and I'm rather a free-thinker, but I certainly -believe there is a Mind at work behind the Matter." - -"That being the case," proceeded the Doctor, "I suppose you will -not deny to this Invisible Mind the same exactitude of proportion -and precise method of action already granted to Visible Matter?". - -"Of course, I could not deny such a reasonable proposition," said -Courtney. - -"Very good! Pursuing the argument logically, and allowing for an -exactly-moving Mind behind exactly-working Matter, it follows that -there can be no such thing as injustice anywhere in the universe? -" - -"My dear Socrates redivivus," laughed Courtney, "I fail to see -what all this has to do with ghosts." - -"It has everything to do with them," declared the Doctor -emphatically, "I repeat that if we grant these already stated -premises concerning the composition of Mind and Matter, there can -be no such thing as injustice. Yet seemingly unjust things are -done every day, and seemingly go unpunished. I say 'seemingly' -advisedly, because the punishment is always administered. And here -the 'scientific ghosts' come in. 'Vengeance is mine,' saith the -Lord,--and the ghosts I speak of are the Lord's way of doing it." - -"You mean ..." began Courtney. - -"I mean," continued the Doctor with some excitement, "that the -sinner who imagines his sins are undiscovered is a fool who -deceives himself. I mean that the murderer who has secretly torn -the life out of his shrieking victim in some unfrequented spot, -and has succeeded in hiding his crime from what we call 'justice,' -cannot escape the Spiritual law of vengeance. What would you say," -and Dr. Dean laid his thin fingers on Courtney's coat-sleeve with -a light pressure,--"if I told you that the soul of a murdered -creature is often sent back to earth in human shape to dog its -murderer down? And that many a criminal undiscovered by the police -is haunted by a seeming Person,--a man or a woman,--who is on -terms of intimacy with him,--who eats at his table, drinks his -wine, clasps his hand, smiles in his face, and yet is truly -nothing but the ghost of his victim in human disguise, sent to -drag him gradually to his well-deserved, miserable end; what would -you say to such a thing?" - -"Horrible!" exclaimed Courtney, recoiling. "Beyond everything -monstrous and horrible!" - -The Doctor smiled and withdrew his hand from his companion's arm. - -"There are a great many horrible things in the universe as well as -pleasant ones," he observed dryly. "Crime and its results are -always of a disagreeable nature. But we cannot alter the psychic -law of equity any more than we can alter the material law of -gravitation. It is growing late; I think, if you will excuse me, I -will go to bed." - -Courtney look at him puzzled and baffled. - -"Then your 'scientific ghosts' are positive realities?" he began; -here he gave a violent start as a tall white figure suddenly moved -out of the shadows in the garden and came slowly towards them. -"Upon my life, Doctor, you have made me quite nervous!" - -"No, no, surely not," smiled the Doctor pleasantly--"not nervous! -Not such a brave killer of game as you are! No, no! You don't take -Monsieur Armand Gervase for a ghost, do you? He is too -substantial,--far too substantial! Ha! ha! ha!" - -And he laughed quietly, the wrinkled smile still remaining on his -face as Gervase approached. - -"Everybody is going to bed," said the great artist lazily. "With -the departure of the Princess Ziska, the pleasures of the evening -are ended." - -"She is certainly the belle of Cairo this season," said Courtney, -"but I tell you what,--I am rather sorry to see young Murray has -lost his head about her." - -"Parbleu! So am I," said Gervase imperturbably; "it seems a pity." - -"He will get over it," interposed Dr. Dean placidly. "It's an -illness,--like typhoid,--we must do all we can to keep down the -temperature of the patient, and we shall pull him through." - -"Keep him cool, in short!" laughed Gervase. - -"Exactly!" The little Doctor smiled shrewdly. "You look feverish, -Monsieur Gervase." - -Gervase flushed red under his dark skin. - -"I daresay I am feverish," he replied irritably,--"I find this -place hot as an oven. I think I should go away to-morrow if I had -not asked the Princess Ziska to sit to me." - -"You are going to paint her picture?" exclaimed Courtney. "By -Jove! I congratulate you. It will be the masterpiece of the next -salon" - -Gervase bowed. - -"You flatter me! The Princess is undoubtedly an attractive -subject. But, as I said before, this place stifles me. I think the -hotel is too near the river,--there is an oozy smell from the Nile -that I hate, and the heat is perfectly sulphureous. Don't you find -it so, Doctor?" - -"N-n-o! I cannot say that I do. Let me feel your pulse; I am not a -medical man--but I can easily recognize any premonitions of -illness." - -Gervase held out his long, brown, well-shaped hand, and the -savant's small, cool fingers pressed lightly on his wrist. - -"You are quite well, Monsieur Gervase," he said after a pause,-- -"You have a little sur-excitation of the nerves, certainly,--but -it is not curable by medicine." He dropped the hand he held, and -looked up--"Good-night!" - -"Good-night!" responded Gervase. - -"Good-night!" added Courtney. - -And with an amiable salutation the Doctor went his way. The ball- -room was now quite deserted, and the hotel servants were -extinguishing the lights. - -"A curious little man, that Doctor," observed Gervase, addressing -Courtney, to whom as yet he had not been formally introduced. - -"Very curious!" was the reply, "I have known him for some years,-- -he is a very clever man, but I have never been able quite to make -him out. I think he is a bit eccentric. He's just been telling me -he believes in ghosts." - -"Ah, poor fellow!" and Gervase yawned as, with his companion, he -crossed the deserted ball-room. "Then he has what you call a screw -loose. I suppose it is that which makes him interesting. Good- -night!" - -"Good-night!" - -And separating, they went their several ways to the small, cell- -like bedrooms, which are the prime discomfort of the Gezireh -Palace Hotel, and soon a great silence reigned throughout the -building. All Cairo slept,--save where at an open lattice window -the moon shone full on a face up-turned to her silver radiance,-- -the white, watchful face, and dark, sleepless eyes of the Princess -Ziska. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - - -Next day the ordinary course of things was resumed at the Gezireh -Palace Hotel, and the delights and flirtations of the fancy-ball -began to vanish into what Hans Breitmann calls "the ewigkeit". Men -were lazier than usual and came down later to breakfast, and girls -looked worn and haggard with over-much dancing, but otherwise -there was no sign to indicate that the festivity of the past -evening had left "tracks behind," or made a lasting impression of -importance on any human life. Lady Chetwynd Lyle, portly and pig- -faced, sat on the terrace working at an elaborate piece of cross- -stitch, talking scandal in the civilest tone imaginable, and -damning all her "dear friends" with that peculiar air of entire -politeness and good breeding which distinguishes certain ladies -when they are saying nasty things about one another. Her -daughters, Muriel and Dolly, sat dutifully near her, one reading -the Daily Dial, as befitted the offspring of the editor and -proprietor thereof, the other knitting. Lord Fulkeward lounged on -the balustrade close by, and his lovely mother, attired in quite a -charming and girlish costume of white foulard exquisitely cut and -fitting into a waist not measuring more than twenty-two inches, -reclined in a long deck-chair, looking the very pink of painted -and powdered perfection. - -"You are so very lenient," Lady Chetwynd Lyle was saying, as she -bent over her needlework. "So very lenient, my dear Lady -Fulkeward, that I am afraid you do not read people's characters as -correctly as I do. I have had, owing to my husband's position in -journalism, a great deal of social experience, and I assure you I -do NOT think the Princess Ziska a safe person. She may be -perfectly proper--she MAY be--but she is not the style we are -accustomed to in London." - -"I should rather think not!" interrupted Lord Fulkeward, hastily. -"By Jove! She wouldn't have a hair left on her head in London, -don'cher know!" - -"What do you mean?" inquired Muriel Chetwynd Lyle, simpering. "You -really do say such funny things, Lord Fulkeward!" - -"Do I?" and the young nobleman was so alarmed and embarrassed at -the very idea of his ever saying funny things that he was rendered -quite speechless for a moment. Anon he took heart and resumed: -"Er--well--I mean that the society women would tear her to bits in -no time. She'd get asked nowhere, but she'd get blackguarded -everywhere; she couldn't help herself with that face and those -eyes." - -His mother laughed. - -"Dear Fulke! You are such a naughty boy! You shouldn't make such -remarks before Lady Lyle. She never says anything against anyone!" - -"Dear Fulke" stared. Had he given vent to his feelings he would -have exclaimed: "Oh, Lord!--isn't the old lady a deep one!" But as -it was he attended to his young moustache anxiously and remained -silent. Lady Chetwynd Lyle meanwhile flushed with annoyance; she -felt that Lady Fulkeward's remark was sarcastic, but she could not -very well resent it, seeing that Lady Fulkeward was a peeress of -the realm, and that she herself, by the strict laws of heraldry, -was truly only "Dame" Chetwynd Lyle, as wife of an ordinary -knight, and had no business to be called "her ladyship" at all. - -"I should, indeed, be sorry," she said, primly, "if I were -mistaken in my private estimate of the Princess Ziska's character, -but I must believe my own eyes and the evidence of my own senses, -and surely no one can condone the extremely fast way in which she -behaved with that new man--that French artist, Armand Gervase-- -last night. Why, she danced six times with him! And she actually -allowed him to walk home with her through the streets of Cairo! -They went off together, in their fancy dresses, just as they were! -I never heard of such a thing!" - -"Oh, there was nothing remarkable at all in that," said Lord -Fulkeward. "Everybody went about the place in fancy costume last -night. I went out in my Neapolitan dress with a girl, and I met -Denzil Murray coming down a street just behind here--took him for -a Florentine prince, upon my word! And I bet you Gervase never got -beyond the door of the Princess's palace; for that blessed old -Nubian she keeps--the chap with a face like a mummy--bangs the -gate in everybody's face, and says in guttural French: 'La -Princesse ne voit per-r-r-sonne!' I've tried it. I tell you it's -no go!" - -"Well, we shall all get inside the mysterious palace next -Wednesday evening," said Lady Fulkeward, closing her eyes with a -graceful air of languor, "It will be charming, I am sure, and I -daresay we shall find that there is no mystery at all about it." - -"Two months ago," suddenly said a smooth voice behind them, "the -Ziska's house or palace was uninhabited." - -Lady Fulkeward gave a little scream and looked round. - -"Good gracious, Dr. Dean! How you frightened me!" - -The Doctor made an apologetic bow. - -"I am very sorry. I forgot you were so sensitive; pray pardon me! -As I was saying, two months ago the palace of the Princess Ziska -was a deserted barrack. Formerly, so I hear, it used to be the -house of some great personage; but it had been allowed to fall -into decay, and nobody would rent it, even for the rush of the -Cairene season, till it was secured by the Nubian you were -speaking of just now--the interesting Nubian with the face like a -mummy; he took it and furnished it, and when it was ready Madame -la Princesse appeared on the scene and has resided there every -since." - -"I wonder what that Nubian has to do with her?" said Lady Chetwynd -Lyle, severely. - -"Nothing at all," replied the Doctor, calmly. "He is the merest -servant--the kind of person who is 'told off' to attend on the -women of a harem." - -"Ah, I see you have been making inquiries concerning the princess, -Doctor," said Lady Fulkeward, with a smile. - -"I have." - -"And have you found out anything about her?" - -"No; that is, nothing of social importance, except, perhaps, two -items--first, that she is not a Russian; secondly, that she has -never been married." - -"Never been married!" exclaimed Lady Chetwynd Lyle, then suddenly -turning to her daughters she said blandly: "Muriel, Dolly, go into -the house, my dears. It is getting rather warm for you on this -terrace. I will join you in a few minutes." - -The "girls" rose obediently with a delightfully innocent and -juvenile air, and fortunately for them did not notice the -irreverent smile that played on young Lord Fulkeward's face, which -was immediately reflected on the artistically tinted countenance -of his mother, at the manner of their dismissal. - -"There is surely nothing improper in never having been married," -said Dr. Dean, with a mock serious air. "Consider, my dear Lady -Lyle, is there not something very chaste and beautiful in the -aspect of an old maid?" - -Lady Lyle looked up sharply. She had an idea that both she and her -daughters were being quizzed, and she had some difficulty to -control her rising temper. - -"Then do you call the Princess an old maid?" she demanded. - -Lady Fulkeward looked amused; her son laughed outright. But the -Doctor's face was perfectly composed. - -"I don't know what else I can call her," he said, with a -thoughtful air. "She is no longer in her teens, and she has too -much voluptuous charm for an ingenue. Still, I admit, you would -scarcely call her 'old' except in the parlance of the modern -matrimonial market. Our present-day roues, you know, prefer their -victims young, and I fancy the Princess Ziska would be too old and -perhaps too clever for most of them. Personally speaking, she does -not impress me as being of any particular age, but as she is not -married, and is, so to speak, a maid fully developed, I am -perforce obliged to call her an old maid." - -"She wouldn't thank you for the compliment," said Lady Lyle with a -spiteful grin. - -"I daresay not," responded the Doctor blandly, "but I imagine she -has very little personal vanity. Her mind is too preoccupied with -something more important than the consideration of her own good -looks." - -"And what is that?" inquired Lady Fulkeward, with some curiosity. - -"Ah! there is the difficulty! What is it that engrosses our fair -friend more than the looking-glass? I should like to know--but I -cannot find out. It is an enigma as profound as that of the -sphinx. Good-morning, Monsieur Gervase!"--and, turning round, he -addressed the artist, who just then stepped out on the terrace -carrying a paintbox and a large canvas strapped together in -portable form. "Are you going to sketch some picturesque corner of -the city?" - -"No," replied Gervase, listlessly raising his white sun-hat to the -ladies present with a courteous, yet somewhat indifferent grace. -"I'm going to the Princess Ziska's. I shall probably get the whole -outline of her features this morning." - -"A full-length portrait?" inquired the Doctor. - -"I fancy not. Not the first attempt, at any rate--head and -shoulders only." - -"Do you know where her house is?" asked Lord Fulkeward. "If you -don't, I'll walk with you and show you the way." - -"Thanks--you are very good. I shall be obliged to you." - -And raising his hat again he sauntered slowly off, young Fulkeward -walking with him and chatting to him with more animation than that -exhausted and somewhat vacant-minded aristocrat usually showed to -anyone. - -"It is exceedingly warm," said Lady Lyle, rising then and putting -away her cross-stitch apparatus, "I thought of driving to the -Pyramids this afternoon, but really ..." - -"There is shade all the way," suggested the Doctor, "I said as -much to a young woman this morning who has been in the hotel for -nearly two months, and hasn't seen the Pyramids yet." - -"What has she been doing with herself?" asked Lady Fulkeward, -smiling. - -"Dancing with officers," said Dr. Dean. "How can Cheops compare -with a moustached noodle in military uniform! Good-bye for the -present; I'm going to hunt for scarabei." - -"I thought you had such a collection of them already," said Lady -Lyle. - -"So I have. But the Princess had a remarkable one on last night, -and I want to find another like it. It's blue--very blue--almost -like a rare turquoise, and it appears it is the sign-manual of the -warrior Araxes, who was a kind of king in his way, or desert -chief, which was about the same thing in those days. He fought for -Amenhotep, and seemed from all accounts to be a greater man than -Amenhotep himself. The Princess Ziska is a wonderful Egyptologist; -I had a most interesting conversation with her last night in the -supper-room." - -"Then she is really a woman of culture and intelligence?" queried -Lady Lyle. - -The Doctor smiled. - -"I should say she would be a great deal too much for the -University of Oxford, as far as Oriental learning goes," he said. -"She can read the Egyptian papyri, she tells me, and she can -decipher anything on any of the monuments. I only wish I could -persuade her to accompany me to Thebes and Karnak." - -Lady Fulkeward unfurled her fan and swayed it to and fro with an -elegant languor. - -"How delightful that would be!" she sighed. "So romantic and -solemn--all those dear old cities with those marvellous figures of -the Egyptians carved and painted on the stones! And Rameses--dear -Rameses! He really has good legs everywhere! Haven't you noticed -that? So many of these ancient sculptures represent the Egyptians -with such angular bodies and such frightfully thin legs, but -Rameses always has good legs wherever you find him. It's so -refreshing! DO make up a party, Dr. Dean!--we'll all go with you; -and I'm sure the Princess Ziska will be the most charming -companion possible. Let us have a dahabeah! I'm good for half the -expenses, if you will only arrange everything." - -The Doctor stroked his chin and looked dubious, but he was -evidently attracted by the idea. - -"I'll see about it," he said at last. "Meanwhile I'll go and have -a hunt for some traces of Amenhotep and Araxes." - -He strolled down the terrace, and Lady Chetwynd Lyle, turning her -back on "old" Lady Fulkeward, went after her "girls," while the -fascinating Fulkeward herself continued to recline comfortably in -her chair, and presently smiled a welcome on a youngish-looking -man with a fair moustache who came forward and sat down beside -her, talking to her in low, tender and confidential tones. He was -the very impecunious colonel of one of the regiments then -stationed in Cairo, and as he never wasted time on sentiment, he -had been lately thinking that a marriage with a widowed peeress -who had twenty thousand pounds a year in her own right might not -be a "half bad" arrangement for him. So he determined to do the -agreeable, and as he was a perfect adept in the art of making love -without feeling it, he got on very well, and his prospects -brightened steadily hour by hour. - -Meanwhile young Fulkeward was escorting Armand Gervase through -several narrow by-streets, talking to him as well as he knew how -and trying in his feeble way to "draw him out," in which task he -met with but indifferent success. - -"It must be awfully jolly and--er--all that sort of thing to be so -famous," he observed, glancing up at the strong, dark, brooding -face above him. "They had a picture of yours over in London once; -I went to see it with my mother. It was called 'Le Poignard,' do -you remember it?" - -Gervase shrugged his shoulders carelessly. - -"Yes, I remember. A poor thing at its best. It was a woman with a -dagger in her hand." - -"Yes, awfully fine, don'cher know! She was a very dark woman--too -dark for my taste,--and she'd got a poignard clasped in in her -right hand. Of course, she was going to murder somebody with it; -that was plain enough. You meant it so, didn't you?" - -"I suppose I did." - -"She was in a sort of Eastern get-up," pursued Fulkeward, "one of -your former studies in Egypt, perhaps." - -Gervase started, and passed his hand across his forehead with a -bewildered air. - -"No, no! Not a former study, by any means. How could it be? This -is my first visit to Egypt. I have never been here before." - -"Haven't you? Really! Well, you'll find it awfully interesting and -all that sort of thing. I don't see half as much of it as I should -like. I'm a weak chap--got something wrong with my lungs,--awful -bother, but can't be helped. My mother won't let me do too much. -Here we are; this is the Princess Ziska's." - -They were standing in a narrow street ending in a cul-de-sac, with -tall houses on each side which cast long, black, melancholy -shadows on the rough pavement below. A vague sense of gloom and -oppression stole over Gervase as he surveyed the outside of the -particular dwelling Fulkeward pointed out to him--a square, -palatial building, which had no doubt once been magnificent in its -exterior adornment, but which now, owing to long neglect, had -fallen into somewhat melancholy decay. The sombre portal, -fantastically ornamented with designs copied from some of the -Egyptian monuments, rather resembled the gateway of a tomb than an -entrance to the private residence of a beautiful living woman, and -Fulkeward, noting his companion's silence, added: - -"Not a very cheerful corner, is it? Some of these places are -regular holes, don'cher know; but I daresay it's all right -inside." - -"You have never been inside?" - -"Never." And Fulkeward lowered his voice: "Look up there; there's -the beast that keeps everybody out!" - -Gervase followed his glance, and perceived behind the projecting -carved lattice-work of one of the windows a dark, wrinkled face -and two gleaming eyes which, even at that distance, had, or -appeared to have, a somewhat sinister expression. - -"He's the nastiest type of Nubian I have ever seen," pursued -Fulkeward. "Looks just like a galvanized corpse." - -Gervase smiled, and perceiving a long bell-handle at the gateway, -pulled it sharply. In another moment the Nubian appeared, his -aspect fully justifying Lord Fulkeward's description of him. The -parchment-like skin on his face was yellowish-black, and wrinkled -in a thousand places; his lips were of a livid blue, and were -drawn up and down above and below the teeth in a kind of fixed -grin, while the dense brilliance of his eyes was so fierce and -fiery as to suggest those of some savage beast athirst for prey. - -"Madame la Princesse Ziska" began Gervase, addressing his -unfascinating object with apparent indifference to his -hideousness. - -The Nubian's grinning lips stretched themselves wider apart as, in -a thick, snarling voice he demanded: - -"Votre nom?" - -"Armand Gervase." - -"Entrez!" - -"Et moi?" queried Fulkeward, with a conciliatory smile. - -"Non! Pas vous. Monsieur Armand Gervase, seul!" - -Fulkeward gave a resigned shrug of his shoulders; Gervase looked -round at him ere he crossed the threshold of the mysterious -habitation. - -"I'm sorry you have to walk back alone." - -"Don't mention it," said Fulkeward affably. "You see, you have -come on business. You're going to paint the Princess's picture; -and I daresay this blessed old rascal knows that I want nothing -except to look at his mistress and wonder what she's made of." - -"What she's made of?" echoed Gervase in surprise. "Don't you think -she's made like other women?" - -"No; can't say I do. She seems all fire and vapor and eyes in the -middle, don'cher know. Oh, I'm an ass--always was--but that's the -feeling she gives me. Ta-ta! Wish you a pleasant morning!" - -He nodded and strolled away, and Gervase hesitated yet another -moment, looking full at the Nubian, who returned him stare for -stare. - -"Maintenant?" he began. - -"Oui, maintenant" echoed the Nubian. - -"La Princesse, ou est elle?" - -"La!" and the Nubian pointed down a long, dark passage beyond -which there seemed to be the glimmer of green palms and other -foliage. "Elle vous attend, Monsieur Armand Gervase! Entrez! -Suivez!" - -Slowly Gervase passed in, and the great tomb-like door closed upon -him with a heavy clang. The whole long, bright day passed, and he -did not reappear; not a human foot crossed the lonely street and -nothing was seen there all through the warm sunshiny hours save -the long, black shadows on the pavement, which grew longer and -darker as the evening fell. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - - -Within the palace of the Princess Ziska a strange silence reigned. -In whatever way the business of her household was carried on, it -was evidently with the most absolute noiselessness, for not a -sound disturbed the utter stillness environing her. She herself, -clad in white garments that clung about her closely, displaying -the perfect outlines of her form, stood waiting for her guest in a -room that was fairly dazzling to the eye in its profusion of -exquisitely assorted and harmonized colors, as well as impressive -to the mind in its suggestions of the past rather than of the -present. Quaint musical instruments of the fashion of thousands of -years ago hung on the walls or lay on brackets and tables, but no -books such as our modern time produces were to be seen; only tied- -up bundles of papyri and curious little tablets of clay inscribed -with mysterious hieroglyphs. Flowers adorned every corner--many of -them strange blossoms which a connoisseur would have declared to -be unknown in Egypt,--palms and ferns and foliage of every -description were banked up against the walls in graceful -profusion, and from the latticed windows the light filtered -through colored squares, giving a kind of rainbow-effect to the -room, as though it were a scene in a dream rather than a reality. -And even more dream-like than her surroundings was the woman who -awaited the approach of her visitor, her eyes turned towards the -door--fiery eyes filled with such ardent watchfulness as seemed to -burn the very air. The eyes of a hawk gleaming on its prey,--the -eyes of a famished tiger in the dark, were less fraught with -terrific meaning than the eyes of Ziska as she listened -attentively to the on-coming footsteps through the outside -corridor which told her that Gervase was near. - -"At last!" she whispered, "at last!" The next moment the Nubian -flung the door wide open and announced "Monsieur Armand Gervase!" - -She advanced with all the wonderful grace which distinguished her, -holding out both her slim, soft hands. Gervase caught them in his -own and kissed them fervently, whereupon the Nubian retired, -closing the door after him. - -"You are very welcome, Monsieur Gervase," said the Princess then, -speaking with a measured slowness that was attractive as well as -soothing to the ear. "You have left all the dear English people -well at the Gezireh Palace? Lady Fulkeward was not too tired after -her exertions at the ball? And you?" - -But Gervase was gazing at her in a speechless confusion of mind -too great for words. A sudden, inexplicable emotion took -possession of him,--an emotion to which he could give no name, but -which stupefied him and held him mute. Was it her beauty which so -dazzled his senses? Was it some subtle perfume in the room that -awoke a dim haunting memory? Or what was it that seemed so -strangely familiar? He struggled with himself, and finally spoke -out his thought: - -"I have seen you before, Princess; I am quite sure I have! I -thought I had last night; but to-day I am positive about it. -Strange, isn't it? I wonder where we really met?" - -Her dark eyes rested on him fully. - -"I wonder!" she echoed, smiling. "The world is so small, and so -many people nowadays make the 'grand tour,' that it is not at all -surprising we should have passed each other en route through our -journey of life." - -Gervase still hesitated, glancing about him with a singularly -embarrassed air, while she continued to watch him intently. -Presently his sensations, whatever they were, passed off, and -gradually recovering his equanimity, he became aware that he was -quite alone with one of the most fascinating women he had ever -seen. His eyes flashed, and he smiled. - -"I have come to paint your picture," he said softly. "Shall I -begin?" - -She had seated herself on a silken divan, and her head rested -against a pile of richly-embroidered cushions. Without waiting for -her answer, he threw himself down beside her and caught her hand -in his. - -"Shall I paint your picture?" he whispered. "Or shall I make love -to you?" - -She laughed,--the sweet, low laugh that somehow chilled his blood -while it charmed his hearing. - -"Whichever you please," she answered. "Both performances would no -doubt be works of art!" - -"What do you mean?" - -"Can you not understand? If you paint my picture it will be a work -of art. If you make love to me it will equally be a work of art: -that is, a composed thing--an elaborate study." - -"Bah! Love is not a composed thing," said Gervase, leaning closer -to her. "It is wild, and full of libertinage as the sea." - -"And equally as fickle," added the Princess composedly, taking a -fan of feathers near her and waving it to and fro. "Man's idea of -love is to take all he can get from a woman, and give her nothing -in return but misery sometimes, and sometimes death." - -"You do not,--you cannot think that!" said Gervase, looking at her -dazzling face with a passion of admiration he made no attempt to -conceal. "Men on the whole are not as cruel or as treacherous as -women. I would swear, looking at you, that, beautiful as you are, -you are cruel, and that is perhaps why I love you! You are like a -splendid tigress waiting to be tamed!" - -"And you think you could tame me?" interposed Ziska, looking at -him with an inscrutable disdain in her black eyes. - -"Yes, if you loved me!" - -"Ah, possibly! But then it happens that I do not love you. I love -no one. I have had too much of love; it is a folly I have grown -weary of!" - -Gervase fixed his eyes on her with an audacious look which seemed -to hint that he might possibly take advantage of being alone with -her to enforce his ideas of love more eloquently than was in -accordance with the proprieties. She perceived his humor, smiled, -and coldly gave him back glance for glance. Then, rising from the -divan, she drew herself up to her full height and surveyed him -with a kind of indulgent contempt. - -"You are an uprincipled man, Armand Gervase," she said; "and do -you know I fear you always will be! A cleansing of your soul -through centuries of fire will be necessary for you in the next -world,--that next world which you do not believe in. But it is -perhaps as well to warn you that I am not without protection in -this place ... See!" and as she spoke she clapped her hands. - -A clanging noise as of brazen bells answered her,--and Gervase, -springing up from his seat, saw, to his utter amazement, the -apparently solid walls of the room in which they were, divide -rapidly and form themselves in several square openings which -showed a much larger and vaster apartment beyond, resembling a -great hall. Here were assembled some twenty or thirty gorgeously- -costumed Arab attendants,--men of a dark and sinister type, who -appeared to be fully armed, judging from the unpleasant-looking -daggers and other weapons they carried at their belts. The -Princess clapped her hands again, and the walls closed in the same -rapid fashion as they had opened, while the beautiful mistress of -this strange habitation laughed mirthfully at the complete -confusion of her visitor and would-be lover. - -"Paint me now!" she said, flinging herself in a picturesque -attitude on one of the sofas close by; "I am ready." - -"But _I_ am not ready!" retorted Gervase, angrily. "Do you take me -for a child, or a fool?" - -"Both in one," responded the Princess, tranquilly; "being a man!" - -His breath came and went quickly. - -"Take care, beautiful Ziska!" he said. "Take care how you defy -me!" - -"And take care, Monsieur Gervase; take care how you defy ME!" she -responded, with a strange, quick glance at him. "Do you not -realize what folly you are talking? You are making love to me in -the fashion of a brigand, rather than a nineteenth-century -Frenchman of good standing,--and I--I have to defend myself -against you also brigand-wise, by showing you that I have armed -servants within call! It is very strange,--it would frighten even -Lady Fulkeward, and I think she is not easily frightened. Pray -commence your work, and leave such an out-of-date matter as love -to dreamers and pretty sentimentalists, like Miss Helen Murray." - -He was silent, and busied himself in unstrapping his canvas and -paint-box with a great deal of almost vicious energy. In a few -moments he had gained sufficient composure to look full at her, -and taking his palette in hand, he began dabbing on the colors, -talking between whiles. - -"Do you suppose," he said, keeping his voice carefully subdued, -"that you can intimidate me by showing me a score of wretched -black rascals whom you have placed on guard to defend you out -there? And why did you place them on guard? You must have been -afraid of me! Pardieu! I could snatch you out of their midst, if I -chose! You do not know me; if you did, you would understand that -not all the world, armed to the teeth should balk me of my -desires! But I have been too hasty--that I own,--I can wait." He -raised his eyes and saw that she was listening with an air of -amused indifference. "I shall have to mix strange tints in your -portrait, ma belle! It is difficult to find the exact hue of your -skin--there is rose and brown in it; and there is yet another -color which I must evolve while working,--and it is not the hue of -health. It is something dark and suggestive of death; I hope you -are not destined to an early grave! And yet, why not? It is better -that a beautiful woman should die in her beauty than live to -become old and tiresome ..." - -"You think that?" interrupted the Ziska suddenly, smiling somewhat -coldly. - -"I do, most honestly. Had I lived in the early days of -civilization, when men were allowed to have as many women as they -could provide for, I would have mercifully killed any sweet -favorite as soon as her beauty began to wane. A lovely woman, dead -in her first exquisite youth,--how beautiful a subject for the -mind to dwell upon! How it suggests all manner of poetic fancies -and graceful threnodies! But a woman grown old, who has outlived -all passion and is a mere bundle of fat, or a mummy of skin and -bone,--what poetry does her existence suggest? How can she appeal -to art or sentiment? She is a misery to herself and an eyesore to -others. Yes, Princess, believe me,--Love first, and Death -afterwards, are woman's best friends." - -"You believe in Death?" ask the Princess, looking steadily at him. - -"It is the only thing I do believe in," he answered lightly. "It -is a fact that will bear examination, but not contradiction. May I -ask you to turn your head slightly to the left--so! Yes, that will -do; if I can catch the look in your eyes that gleams there now,-- -the look of intense, burning, greedy cruelty which is so -murderously fascinating, I shall be content." - -He seated himself opposite to her, and, putting down his palette, -took up his canvas, and posing it on his knee, began drawing the -first rough outline of his sketch in charcoal. She, meanwhile, -leaning against heaped-up cushions of amber satin, remained -silent. - -"You are not a vain woman," he pursued, "or you would resent my -description of your eyes. 'Greedy cruelty' is not a pretty -expression, nor would it be considered complimentary by the -majority of the fair sex. Yet, from my point of view, it is the -highest flattery I can pay you, for I adore the eyes of savage -animals, and the beautiful eye of the forest-beast is in your -head,--diableresse charmante comme vous etes! I wonder what gives -you such an insatiate love of vengeance?" - -He looked up and saw her eyes glistening and narrowing at the -corners, like the eyes of an angry snake. - -"If I have such a feeling," she replied slowly, "it is probably a -question of heritage." - -"Ah! Your parents were perhaps barbaric in their notions of love -and hatred?" he queried, lazily working at his charcoal sketch -with growing admiration for its result. - -"My parents came of a race of kings!" she answered. "All my -ancestors were proud, and of a temper unknown to this petty day. -They resented a wrong, they punished falsehood and treachery, and -they took a life for a life. YOUR generation tolerates every sin -known in the calendar with a smile and a shrug,--you have arrived -at the end of your civilization, even to the denial of Deity and a -future life." - -"That is not the end of our civilization, Princess," said Gervase, -working away intently, with eyes fixed on the canvas as he talked. -"That is the triumphal apex, the glory, the culmination of -everything that is great and supreme in manhood. In France, man -now knows himself to be the only God; England--good, slow-pacing -England--is approaching France in intelligence by degrees, and I -rejoice to see that it is possible for a newspaper like the -Agnostic to exist in London. Only the other day that excellent -journal was discussing the possibility of teaching monkeys to -read, and a witty writer, who adopts the nom de plume of -'Saladin,' very cleverly remarked 'that supposing monkeys were -able to read the New Testament, they would still remain monkeys; -in fact, they would probably be greater monkeys than ever.' The -fact of such an expression being allowed to pass muster in once -pious London is an excellent sign of the times and of our progress -towards the pure Age of Reason. The name of Christ is no longer -one to conjure with." - -A dead silence followed his words, and the peculiar stillness and -heaviness of the atmosphere struck him with a vague alarm. He -lifted his eyes,--the Princess Ziska met his gaze steadily, but -there was something in her aspect that moved him to wonderment and -a curious touch of terror. The delicate rose-tint of her cheeks -had faded to an ashy paleness, her lips were pressed together -tightly and her eyes seemed to have gained a vivid and angry -lustre which Medusa herself might have envied. - -"Did you ever try to conjure with that name?" she asked. - -"Never," he replied, forcing a smile and remonstrating with -himself for the inexplicable nature of his emotions. - -She went on slowly: - -"In my creed--for I have a creed--it is believed that those who -have never taken the sacred name of Christ to their hearts, as a -talisman of comfort and support, are left as it were in the vortex -of uncertainties, tossed to and fro among many whirling and mighty -forces, and haunted forever by the phantoms of their own evil -deeds. Till they learn and accept the truth of their marvellous -Redemption, they are the prey of wicked spirits who tempt and lead -them on to divers miseries. But when the great Name of Him who -died upon the Cross is acknowledged, then it is found to be of -that transfiguring nature which turns evil to good, and sometimes -makes angels out of fiends. Nevertheless, for the hardened -reprobate and unbeliever the old laws suffice." - -Gervase had stopped the quick movement of his "fusin," and looked -at her curiously. - -"What old laws?" he asked. - -"Stern justice without mercy!" she answered; then in lighter -accents she added: "Have you finished your first outline?" - -In reply, he turned his canvas round to her, showing her a head -and profile boldly presented in black and white. She smiled. - -"It is clever; but it is not like me," she said. "When you begin -the coloring you will find that your picture and I have no -resemblance to each other." - -He flushed with a sense of wounded amour propre. - -"Pardon, madame!--I am no novice at the art of painting," he said; -"and much as your charms dazzle and ensnare me, they do not -disqualify my brain and hand from perfectly delineating them upon -my canvas. I love you to distraction; but my passion shall not -hinder me from making your picture a masterpiece." - -She laughed. - -"What an egoist you are, Monsieur Gervase!" she said. "Even in -your professed passion for me you count yourself first,--me -afterwards!" - -"Naturally!" he replied. "A man must always be first by natural -creation. When he allows himself to play second fiddle, he is a -fool!" - -"And when he is a fool--and he often is--he is the first of -fools!" said the Princess. "No ape--no baboon hanging by its tail -to a tree--looks such a fool as a man-fool. For a man-fool has had -all the opportunities of education and learning bestowed upon him; -this great universe, with its daily lessons of the natural and the -supernatural, is his book laid open for his reading, and when he -will neither read it nor consider it, and, moreover, when he -utterly denies the very Maker of it, then there is no fool in all -creation like him. For the ape-fool does at least admit that there -may be a stronger beast somewhere,--a creature who may suddenly -come upon him and end his joys of hanging by his tail to a tree -and make havoc of his fruit-eating and chattering, while man -thinks there is nothing anywhere superior to himself." - -Gervase smiled tolerantly. - -"I am afraid I have ruffled you, Princess," he said. "I see you -have religious ideas: I have none." - -Once again she laughed musically. - -"Religious ideas! I! Not at all. I have a creed as I told you, but -it is an ugly one--not at all sentimental or agreeable. It is one -I have adopted from ancient Egypt." - -"Explain it to me," said Gervase; "I will adopt it also, for your -sake." - -"It is too supernatural for you," she said, paying no heed to the -amorous tone of his voice or the expressive tenderness of his -eyes. - -"Never mind! Love will make me accept an army of ghosts, if -necessary." - -"One of the chief tenets of my faith," she continued, "is the -eternal immortality of each individual Soul. Will you accept -that?" - -"For the moment, certainly!" - -Her eyes glowed like great jewels as she proceeded: - -"The Egyptian cult I follow is very briefly explained. The Soul -begins in protoplasm without conscious individuality. It -progresses through various forms till individual consciousness is -attained. Once attained, it is never lost, but it lives on, -pressing towards perfection, taking upon itself various phases of -existence according to the passions which have most completely -dominated it from the first. That is all. But according to this -theory, you might have lived in the world long ago, and so might -I: we might even have met; and for some reason or other we may -have become re-incarnated now. A disciple of my creed would give -you that as the reason why you sometimes imagine you have seen me -before." - -As she spoke, the dazed and troubled sensation he had once -previously experienced came upon him; he laid down the canvas he -held and passed his hand across his forehead bewilderedly. - -"Yes; very curious and fantastic. I've heard a great deal about -the doctrine of reincarnation. I don't believe in it,--I can't -believe in it! But if I could: if I could imagine I had ever met -you in some bygone time, and you were like what you are at this -moment, I should have loved you,--I MUST have loved you! You see I -cannot leave the subject of love alone; and your re-incarnation -idea gives my fancy something to work upon. So, beautiful Ziska, -if your soul ever took the form of a flower, I must have been its -companion blossom; if it ever paced the forest as a beast of prey, -I must have been its mate; if it ever was human before, then I -must have been its lover! Do you like such pretty follies? I will -talk them by the hour." - -Here he rose, and with a movement that was half fierce and half -tender, he knelt beside her, taking her hands in his own. - -"I love you, Ziska! I cannot help myself. I am drawn to you by -some force stronger than my own will; but you need not be afraid -of me--not yet! As I said, I can wait. I can endure the mingled -torture and rapture of this sudden passion and make no sign, till -my patience tires, and then--then I will win you if I die for it!" - -He sprang up before she could speak a word in answer, and seizing -his canvas again, exclaimed gayly: - -"Now for the hues of morning and evening combined, to paint the -radiance of this wicked soul of love that so enthralls me! First, -the raven-black of midnight for the hair,--the lustre of the -coldest, brightest stars for eyes,--the blush-rose of early dawn -for lips and cheeks. Ah! How shall I make a real beginning of this -marvel?" - -"It will be difficult, I fear," said Ziska slowly, with a faint, -cold smile; "and still more difficult, perchance, will be the -end!" - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - - -The table d'hote at the Gezireh Palace Hotel had already begun -when Gervase entered the dining-room and sat down near Lady -Fulkeward and Dr. Dean. - -"You have missed the soup," said her ladyship, looking up at him -with a sweet smile. "All you artists are alike,--you have no idea -whatever of time. And how have you succeeded with that charming -mysterious person, the Princess Ziska?" - -Gervase kept his gaze steadily fixed on the table-cloth. He was -extremely pale, and had the air of one who has gone through some -great mental exhaustion. - -"I have not succeeded as well as I expected," he answered slowly. -"I think my hand must have lost its cunning. At any rate, whatever -the reason may be, Art has been defeated by Nature." - -He crumbled up the piece of bread near his plate in small portions -with a kind of involuntary violence in the action, and Dr. Dean, -deliberately drawing out a pair of spectacles from their case, -adjusted them, and surveyed him curiously. - -"You mean to say that you cannot paint the Princess's picture?" - -Gervase glanced up at him with a half-sullen, half-defiant -expression. - -"I don't say that," he replied; "I can paint something--something -which you can call a picture if you like,--but there is no -resemblance to the Princess Ziska in it. She is beautiful, and I -can get nothing of her beauty,--I can only get the reflection of a -face which is not hers." - -"How very curious!" exclaimed Lady Fulkeward. "Quite -psychological, is it not, Doctor? It is almost creepy!" and she -managed to produce a delicate shudder of her white shoulders -without cracking the blanc de perle enamel. "It will be something -fresh for you to study." - -"Possibly it will--possibly," said the Doctor, still surveying -Gervase blandly through his round glasses; "but it isn't the first -time I have heard of painters who unconsciously produce other -faces than those of their sitters. I distinctly remember a case in -point. A gentleman, famous for his charities and general -benevolence, had his portrait painted by a great artist for -presentation to the town-hall of his native place, and the artist -was quite unable to avoid making him unto the likeness of a -villain. It was quite a distressing affair; the painter was -probably more distressed than anybody about it, and he tried by -every possible means in his power to impart a truthful and noble -aspect to the countenance of the man who was known and admitted to -be a benefactor to his race. But it was all in vain: the portrait -when finished was the portrait of a stranger and a scoundrel. The -people for whom it was intended declared they would not have such -a libel on their generous friend hung up in their town-hall. The -painter was in despair, and there was going to be a general -hubbub, when, lo and behold the 'noble' personage himself was -suddenly arrested for a brutal murder committed twelve years back. -He was found guilty and hanged, and the painter kept the portrait -that had so remarkably betrayed the murderer's real nature, as a -curiosity ever afterwards." - -"Is that a fact?" inquired a man who was seated at the other side -of the table, and who had listened with great interest to the -story. - -"A positive fact," said the Doctor. "One of those many singular -circumstances which occur in life, and which are beyond all -explanation." - -Gervase moved restlessly; then filling for himself a glass of -claret, drained it off thirstily. - -"Something of the same kind has happened to me," he said with a -hard, mirthless laugh, "for out of the most perfect beauty I have -only succeeded in presenting an atrocity." - -"Dear me!" exclaimed Lady Fulkeward. "What a disappointing day you -must have had! But of course, you will try again; the Princess -will surely give you another sitting?" - -"Oh, yes! I shall certainly try again and yet again, and ever so -many times again," said Gervase, with a kind of angry obstinacy in -his tone, "the more so as she has told me I will never succeed in -painting her." - -"She told you that, did she?" put in Dr. Dean, with an air of -lively interest. - -"Yes." - -Just then the handing round of fresh dishes and the clatter of -knives and forks effectually put a stop to the conversation for -the time, and Gervase presently glancing about him saw that Denzil -Murray and his sister were dining apart at a smaller table with -young Lord Fulkeward and Ross Courtney. Helen was looking her -fairest and best that evening--her sweet face, framed in its angel -aureole of bright hair had a singular look of pureness and truth -expressed upon it rare to find in any woman beyond her early -teens. Unconsciously to himself, Gervase sighed as he caught a -view of her delicate profile, and Lady Fulkeward's sharp ears -heard the sound of that sigh. - -"Isn't that a charming little party over there?" she asked. "Young -people, you know! They always like to be together! That very sweet -girl, Miss Murray, was so much distressed about her brother to- -day,--something was the matter with him--a touch of fever, I -believe,--that she begged me to let Fulke dine with them in order -to distract Mr. Denzil's mind. Fulke is a dear boy, you know--very -consoling in his ways, though he says so little. Then Mr. Courtney -volunteered to join them, and there they are. The Chetwynd Lyles -are gone to a big dinner at the Continental this evening." - -"The Chetwynd Lyles--let me see. Who are they?" mused Gervase -aloud, "Do I know them?" - -"No,--that is, you have not been formally introduced," said Dr. -Dean." Sir Chetwynd Lyle is the editor and proprietor of the -London Daily Dial, Lady Chetwynd Lyle is his wife, and the two -elderly-youthful ladies who appeared as 'Boulogne fishwives' last -night at the ball are his daughters." - -"Cruel man!" exclaimed Lady Fulkeward with a girlish giggle. "The -idea of calling those sweet girls, Muriel and Dolly, 'elderly- -youthful!'" - -"What are they, my dear madam, what are they?" demanded the -imperturbable little savant. "'Elderly-youthful' is a very -convenient expression, and applies perfectly to people who refuse -to be old and cannot possibly be young." - -"Nonsense! I will not listen to you!" and her ladyship opened her -jewelled fan and spread it before her eyes to completely screen -the objectionable Doctor from view. "Don't you know your theories -are quite out of date? Nobody is old,--we all utterly refuse to be -old! Why," and she shut her fan with a sudden jerk, "I shall have -you calling ME old next." - -"Never, madam!" said Dr. Dean gallantly laying his hand upon his -heart. "You are quite an exception to the rule. You have passed -through the furnace of marriage and come out unscathed. Time has -done its worst with you, and now retreats, baffled and powerless; -it can touch you no more!" - -Whether this was meant as a compliment or the reverse it would -have been difficult to say, but Lady Fulkeward graciously accepted -it as the choicest flattery, and bowed, smiling and gratified. -Dinner was now drawing to its end, and people were giving their -orders for coffee to be served to them on the terrace and in the -gardens, Gervase among the rest. The Doctor turned to him. - -"I should like to see your picture of the Princess," he said,-- -"that is if you have no objection." - -"Not the least in the world," replied Gervase,--"only it isn't the -Princess, it is somebody else." - -A faint shudder passed over him. The Doctor noticed it. - -"Talking of curious things," went on that irrepressible savant, "I -started hunting for a particular scarabeus to-day. I couldn't find -it, of course,--it generally takes years to find even a trifle -that one especially wants. But I came across a queer old man in -one of the curiosity-shops who told me that over at Karnak they -had just discovered a large fresco in one of the tombs describing -the exploits of the very man whose track I'm on--Araxes ..." - -Gervase started,--he knew not why. - -"What has Araxes to do with you?" he demanded. - -"Oh, nothing! But the Princess Ziska spoke of him as a great -warrior in the days of Amenhotep,--and she seems to be a great -Egyptologist, and to know many things of which we are ignorant. -Then you know last night she adopted the costume of a dancer of -that period, named Ziska-Charmazel. Well, now it appears that in -one part of this fresco the scene depicted is this very Ziska- -Charmazel dancing before Araxes." - -Gervase listened with strained attention,--his heart beat thickly, -as though the Doctor were telling him of some horrible -circumstance in which he had an active part; whereas he had truly -no interest at all in the matter, except in so far as events of -history are more or less interesting to everyone. - -"Well?" he said after a pause. - -"Well," echoed Dr. Dean. "There is really nothing more to say -beyond that I want to find out everything I can concerning this -Araxes, if only for the reason that the charming Princess chose to -impersonate his lady-love last night. One must amuse one's self in -one's own fashion, even in Egypt, and this amuses ME." - -Gervase rose, feeling in his pocket for his cigarette-case. - -"Come," he said briefly, "I will show you my picture." - -He straightened his tall, fine figure and walked slowly across the -room to the table where Denzil Murray sat with his sister and -friends. - -"Denzil," he said,--"I have made a strange portrait of the -Princess Ziska, and I'm going to show it to Dr. Dean. I should -like you to see it too. Will you come?" - -Denzil looked at him with a dark reproach in his eyes. - -"If you like," he answered shortly. - -"I do like!" and Gervase laid his hand on the young fellow's -shoulder with a kind pressure. "You will find it a piece of -curious disenchantment, as well as a proof of my want of skill. -You are all welcome to come and look at it except ..." here he -hesitated,--"except Miss Murray. I think--yes, I think it might -possibly frighten Miss Murray." - -Helen raised her eyes to his, but said nothing. - -"Oh, by Jove!" murmured Lord Fulkeward, feeling his moustache as -usual. "Then don't you come, Miss Murray. We'll tell you all about -it afterwards." - -"I have no curiosity on the subject," she said a trifle coldly. -"Denzil, you will find me in the drawing-room. I have a letter to -write home." - -With a slight salute she left them, Gervase watching the -disappearance of her graceful figure with a tinge of melancholy -regret in his eyes. - -"It is evident Mademoiselle Helen does not like the Princess -Ziska," he observed. - -"Oh, well, as to that," said Fulkeward hastily, "you know you -can't expect women to lose their heads about her as men do. -Beside, there's something rather strange in the Princess's manner -and appearance, and perhaps Miss Murray doesn't take to her any -more than I do." - -"Oh, then you are not one of her lovers?" queried Dr. Dean -smiling. - -"No; are you?" - -"I? Good heavens, my dear young sir, I was never in love with a -woman in my life! That is, not what YOU would call in love. At the -age of sixteen I wrote verses to a mature young damsel of forty,-- -a woman with a remarkably fine figure and plenty of it; she -rejected my advances with scorn, and I have never loved since!" - -They all laughed,--even Denzil Murray's sullen features cleared -for the moment into the brightness of a smile. - -"Where did you paint the Princess's picture?" inquired Ross -Courtney suddenly. - -"In her own house," replied Gervase. "But we were not alone, for -the fascinating fair one had some twenty or more armed servants -within call." There was a movement of surprise among his -listeners, and he went on: "Yes; Madame is very well protected, I -assure you,--as much so as if she were the first favorite in a -harem. Come now, and see my sketch." - -He led the way to a private sitting-room which he had secured for -himself in the hotel at almost fabulous terms. It was a small -apartment, but it had the advantage of a long French window which -opened out into the garden. Here, on an easel, was a canvas with -its back turned towards the spectator. - -"Sit down," said Gervase abruptly addressing his guests, "and be -prepared for a curiosity unlike anything you have ever seen -before!" He paused a moment, looking steadily at Dr. Dean. -"Perhaps, Doctor, as you are interested in psychic phenomena, you -may be able to explain how I got such a face on my canvas, for I -cannot explain it to myself." - -He slowly turned the canvas round, and, scarcely heeding the -exclamation of amazement that broke simultaneously from all the -men present, stared at it himself, fascinated by a singular -magnetism more potent than either horror or fear. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - - -What a strange and awful face it was!--what a thing of distorted -passion and pain! What an agony was expressed in every line of the -features!--agony in which the traces of a divine beauty lingered -only to render the whole countenance more repellent and terrific! -A kind of sentient solemnity, mingled with wrath and terror, -glared from the painted eyes,--the lips, slightly parted in a -cruel upward curve, seemed about to utter a shriek of menace,--the -hair, drooping in black, thick clusters low on the brow, looked -wet as with the dews of the rigor mortis,--and to add to the -mysterious horror of the whole conception, the distinct outline of -a death's-head was seen plainly through the rose-brown flesh- -tints. There was no real resemblance in this horrible picture to -the radiant and glowing loveliness of the Princess Ziska, yet, at -the same time, there was sufficient dim likeness to make an -imaginative person think it might be possible for her to assume -that appearance in death. Several minutes passed in utter -silence,--then Lord Fulkeward suddenly rose. - -"I'm going!" he said. "It's a beastly thing; it makes me sick!" - -"Grand merci!" said Gervase with a forced smile. - -"I really can't help it," declared the young man, turning his back -to the picture. "If I am rude, you must excuse it. I'm not very -strong--my mother will tell you I get put out very easily,--and I -shall dream of this horrid face all night if I don't give it a -wide berth." - -And, without any further remark he stepped out through the open -window into the garden, and walked off. Gervase made no comment on -his departure; he turned his eyes towards Dr. Dean who, with -spectacles on nose, was staring hard at the picture with every -sign of the deepest interest. - -"Well, Doctor," he said, "you see it is not at all like the -Princess." - -"Oh, yes it is!" returned the Doctor placidly. "If you could -imagine the Princess's face in torture, it would be like her. It -is the kind of expression she might wear if she suddenly met with -a violent end." - -"But why should I paint her so?" demanded Gervase. "She was -perfectly tranquil; and her attitude was most picturesquely -composed. I sketched her as I thought I saw her,--how did this -tortured head come on my canvas?" - -The Doctor scratched his chin thoughtfully. It was certainly a -problem. He stared hard at Gervase, as though searching for the -clue to the mystery in the handsome artist's own face. Then he -turned to Denzil Murray, who had not stirred or spoken. - -"What do you think of it, eh, Denzil?" he asked. - -The young man started as from a dream. - -"I don't know what to think of it." - -"And you?" said the Doctor, addressing Ross Courtney. - -"I? Oh, I am of the same opinion as Fulkeward,--I think it is a -horrible thing. And the curious part of the matter is that it is -like the Princess Ziska, and yet totally unlike. Upon my word, you -know, it is a very unpleasant picture." - -Dr. Dean got up and paced the room two or three times, his brows -knitted in a heavy frown. Suddenly he stopped in front of Gervase. - -"Tell me," he said, "have you any recollection of ever having met -the Princess Ziska before?" - -Gervase looked puzzled, then answered slowly: - -"No, I have no actual recollection of the kind. At the same time, -I admit to you that there is something about her which has always -struck me as being familiar. The tone of her voice and the -peculiar cadence of her laughter particularly affect me in this -way. Last night when I was dancing with her, I wondered whether I -had ever come across her as a model in one of the studios in Paris -or Rome." - -The Doctor listened to him attentively, watching him narrowly the -while. But he shook his head incredulously at the idea of the -Princess ever having posed as a model. - -"No, no, that won't do!" he said. "I do not believe she was ever -in the model business. Think again. You are now a man in the prime -of life, Monsieur Gervase, but look back to your early youth,--the -period when young men do wild, reckless, and often wicked things,- --did you ever in that thoughtless time break a woman's heart?" - -Gervase flushed, and shrugged his shoulders. - -"Pardieu! I may have done! Who can tell? But if I did, what would -that have to do with this?" and he tapped the picture impatiently. - -The Doctor sat down and smacked his lips with a peculiar air of -enjoyment. - -"It would have a great deal to do with it," he answered, "that is, -psychologically speaking. I have known of such cases. We will -argue the point out systematically thus:--Suppose that you, in -your boyhood, had wronged some woman, and suppose that woman had -died. You might imagine you had got rid of that woman. But if her -love was very strong and her sense of outrage very bitter, I must -tell you that you have not got rid of her by any means, moreover, -you never will get rid of her. And why? Because her Soul, like all -Souls, is imperishable. Now, putting it as a mere supposition, and -for the sake of the argument, that you feel a certain admiration -for the Princess Ziska, an admiration which might possibly deepen -into something more than platonic, ... "--here Denzil Murray -looked up, his eyes glowing with an angry pain as he fixed them on -Gervase,--"why then the Soul of the other woman you once wronged -might come between you and the face of the new attraction and -cause you to unconsciously paint the tortured look of the injured -and unforgiving Spirit on the countenance of the lovely fascinator -whose charms are just beginning to ensnare you. I repeat, I have -known of such cases." And, unheeding the amazed and incredulous -looks of his listeners, the little Doctor folded both his short -arms across his chest, and hugged himself in the exquisite delight -of his own strange theories." The fact is, "he continued," you -cannot get rid of ghosts! They are all about us--everywhere! -Sometimes they take forms, sometimes they are content to remain -invisible. But they never fail to make their presence felt. Often -during the performance of some great piece of music they drift -between the air and the melody, making the sounds wilder and more -haunting, and freezing the blood of the listener with a vague -agony and chill. Sometimes they come between us and our friends, -mysteriously forbidding any further exchange of civilities or -sympathies, and occasionally they meet us alone and walk and talk -with us invisibly. Generally they mean well, but sometimes they -mean ill. And the only explanation I can offer you, Monsieur -Gervase, as to the present picture problem is that a ghost must -have come between you and your canvas!" - -Gervase laughed loudly. - -"My good friend, you are an adept in the art of pleading the -impossible! You must excuse me; I am a sceptic; and I hope I am -also in possession of my sober reason,--therefore, you can hardly -wonder at my entirely refusing to accept such preposterous -theories as those you appear to believe in." - -Dr. Dean gave him a civil little bow. - -"I do not ask you to accept them, my dear sir! I state my facts, -and you can take them or leave them, just as you please. You -yourself can offer no explanation of the singular way in which -this picture has been produced; I offer one which is perfectly -tenable with the discoveries of psychic science,--and you dismiss -it as preposterous. That being the case, I should recommend you to -cut up this canvas and try your hand again on the same subject." - -"Of course, I shall try again," retorted Gervase. "But I do not -think I shall destroy this first sketch. It is a curiosity in its -way; and it has a peculiar fascination for me. Do you notice how -thoroughly Egyptian the features are? They are the very contour of -some of the faces on the recently-discovered frescoes." - -"Oh, I noticed that at once," said the Doctor; "but that is not -remarkable, seeing that you yourself are quite of an Egyptian -type, though a Frenchman,--so much so, in fact, that many people -in this hotel have commented on it." - -Gervase said nothing, but slowly turned the canvas round with its -face to the wall. - -"You have seen enough of it, I suppose?" he inquired of Denzil -Murray. - -"More than enough!" - -Gervase smiled. - -"It ought to disenchant you," he said in a lower tone. - -"But it is a libel on her beauty,--it is not in the least like -her," returned Murray coldly. - -"Not in the very least? Are you sure? My dear Denzil, you know as -well as I do that there IS a likeness, combined with a dreadful -unlikeness; and it is that which troubles both of us. I assure -you, my good boy, I am as sorry for you as I am for myself,--for I -feel that this woman will be the death of one or both of us!" - -Denzil made no reply, and presently they all strolled out in the -garden and lit their cigars and cigarettes, with the exception of -Dr. Dean who never smoked and never drank anything stronger than -water. - -"I am going to get up a party for the Nile," he said as he turned -his sharp, ferret-like eyes upwards to the clear heavens; "and I -shall take the Princess into my confidence. In fact, I have -written to her about it to-day. I hear she has a magnificent -electric dahabeah, and if she will let us charter it. ..." - -"She won't," said Denzil hastily, "unless she goes with it -herself." - -"You seem to know a great deal about her," observed Dr. Dean -indulgently, "and why should she not go herself? She is evidently -well instructed in the ancient history of Egypt, and, as she reads -the hieroglyphs, she will be a delightful guide and a most -valuable assistant to me in my researches." - -"What researches are you engaged upon now?" inquired Courtney. - -"I am hunting down a man called Araxes," answered the Doctor. "He -lived, so far as I can make out, some four or five thousand years -ago, more or less; and I want to find out what he did and how he -died, and when I know how he died, then I mean to discover where -he is buried. If possible, I shall excavate him. I also want to -find the remains of Ziska-Charmazel, the lady impersonated by our -charming friend the Princess last night,--the dancer, who, it -appears from a recently-discovered fresco, occupied most of her -time in dancing before this same Araxes and making herself -generally agreeable to him." - -"What an odd fancy!" exclaimed Denzil. "How can a man and woman -dead five thousand years ago be of any interest to you?" - -"What interest has Rameses?" demanded the Doctor politely, "or any -of the Ptolemies? Araxes, like Rameses, may lead to fresh -discoveries in Egypt, for all we know. One name is as good as -another,--and each odoriferous mummy has its own mystery." - -They all came just then to a pause in their walk, Gervase stopping -to light a fresh cigarette. The rays of the rising moon fell upon -him as he stood, a tall and stately figure, against a background -of palms, and shone on his dark features with a touch of grayish- -green luminance that gave him for the moment an almost spectral -appearance. Dr. Dean glanced at him with a smile. - -"What a figure of an Egyptian, is he not!" he said to Courtney and -Denzil Murray. "Look at him! What height and symmetry! What a -world of ferocity in those black, slumbrous eyes! Yes, Monsieur -Gervase, I am talking about you. I am admiring you!" - -"Trop d'honneur!" murmured Gervase, carefully shielding with one -hand the match with which he was kindling his cigarette. - -"Yes," continued the Doctor, "I am admiring you. Being a little -man myself, I naturally like tall men, and as an investigator of -psychic forms I am immensely interested when I see a finely-made -body in which the soul lies torpid. That is why you unconsciously -compose for me a wonderful subject of study. I wonder now, how -long this torpidity in the psychic germ has lasted in you? It -commenced, of course, originally in protoplasm; but it must have -continued through various low forms and met with enormous -difficulties in attaining to individual consciousness as man,-- -because even now it is scarcely conscious." - -Gervase laughed. - -"Why, that beginning of the soul in protoplasm is part of a creed -which the Princess Ziska was trying to teach me to-day," he said -lightly. "It's all no use. I don't believe in the soul; if I did, -I should be a miserable man." - -"Why?" asked Murray. - -"Why? Because, my dear fellow, I should be rather afraid of my -future. I should not like to live again; I might have to remember -certain incidents which I would rather forget. There is your -charming sister, Mademoiselle Helen! I must go and talk to her,-- -her conversation always does me good; and after that picture which -I have been unfortunate enough to produce, her presence will be as -soothing as the freshness of morning after an unpleasant -nightmare." - -He moved away; Denzil Murray with Courtney followed him. Dr. Dean -remained behind, and presently sitting down in a retired corner of -the garden alone, he took out a small pocket-book and stylographic -pen and occupied himself for more than half an hour in busily -writing till he had covered two or three pages with his small, -neat caligraphy. - -"It is the most interesting problem I ever had the chance of -studying!" he murmured half aloud when he had finished, "Of -course, if my researches into the psychic spheres of action are -worth anything, it can only be one case out of thousands. -Thousands? Aye, perhaps millions! Great heavens! Among what -terrific unseen forces we live! And in exact proportion to every -man's arrogant denial of the 'Divinity that shapes our ends, so -will be measured out to him the revelation of the invisible. -Strange that the human race has never entirely realized as yet the -depth of meaning in the words describing hell: 'Where the worm -dieth not, and where the flame is never quenched. The 'worm' is -Retribution, the 'flame' is the immortal Spirit,--and the two are -forever striving to escape from the other. Horrible! And yet there -are men who believe in neither one thing nor the other, and reject -the Redemption that does away with both! God forgive us all our -sins,--and especially the sins of pride and presumption!" - -And with a shade of profound melancholy on his features, the -little Doctor put by his note-book, and, avoiding all the hotel -loungers on the terrace and elsewhere, retired to his own room and -went to bed. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - - -The next day when Armand Gervase went to call on the Princess -Ziska he was refused admittance. The Nubian attendant who kept -watch and ward at her gates, hearing the door-bell ring, contented -himself with thrusting his ugly head through an open upper window -and shouting-- - -"Madame est sortie!" - -"Ou donc?" called Gervase in answer. - -"A la campagne--le desert--les pyramides!" returned the Nubian, at -the same time banging the lattice to in order to prevent the -possibility of any further conversation. And Gervase, standing in -the street irresolutely for a moment, fancied he heard a peal of -malicious laughter in the distance. - -"Beast!" he muttered, "I must try him with a money bribe next time -I get hold of him. I wonder what I shall do with myself now?-- -haunted and brain-ridden as I am by this woman and her picture?" - -The hot sun glared in his eyes and made them ache,--the rough -stones of the narrow street were scorching to his feet. He began -to move slowly away with a curious faint sensation of giddiness -and sickness upon him, when the sound of music floating from the -direction of the Princess Ziska's palace brought him to a sudden -standstill. It was a strange, wild melody, played on some -instrument with seemingly muffled strings. A voice with a deep, -throbbing thrill of sweetness in it began to sing: - - Oh, for the passionless peace of the Lotus-Lily! - It floats in a waking dream on the waters chilly, - With its leaves unfurled - To the wondering world, - Knowing naught of the sorrow and restless pain - That burns and tortures the human brain; - Oh, for the passionless peace of the Lotus-Lily! - - Oh, for the pure cold heart of the Lotus-Lily! - Bared to the moon on the waters dark and chilly. - A star above - Is its only love, - And one brief sigh of its scented breath - Is all it will ever know of Death; - Oh, for the pure cold heart of the Lotus-Lily! - -When the song ceased, Gervase raised his eyes from the ground on -which he had fixed them in a kind of brooding stupor, and stared -at the burning blue of the sky as vaguely and wildly as a sick man -in the delirium of fever. - -"God! What ails me!" he muttered, supporting himself with one hand -against the black and crumbling wall near which he stood. "Why -should that melody steal away my strength and make me think of -things with which I have surely no connection! What tricks my -imagination plays me in this city of the Orient--I might as well -be hypnotized! What have I to do with dreams of war and triumph -and rapine and murder, and what is the name of Ziska-Charmazel to -me?" - -He shook himself with the action of a fine brute that has been -stung by some teasing insect, and, mastering his emotions by an -effort, walked away. But he was so absorbed in strange thoughts, -that he stumbled up against Denzil Murray in a side street on the -way to the Gezireh Palace Hotel without seeing him, and would have -passed him altogether had not Denzil somewhat fiercely said: - -"Stop!" - -Gervase looked at him bewilderedly. - -"Why, Denzil, is it you? My dear fellow, forgive me my brusquerie! -I believe I have got a stroke of the sun, or something of the -sort; I assure you I hardly know what I am doing or where I am -going!" - -"I believe it!" said Denzil, hoarsely. "You are as mad as I am-- -for love!" - -Gervase smiled; a slight incredulous smile. - -"You think so? I am not sure! If love makes a man as thoroughly -unstrung and nervous as I am to-day, then love is a very bad -illness." - -"It is the worst illness in the world," said Denzil, speaking -hurriedly and wildly. "The most cruel and torturing! And there is -no cure for it save death. My God, Gervase! You were my friend but -yesterday! I never should have thought it possible to hate you!" - -"Yet you do hate me?" queried Gervase, still smiling a little. - -"Hate you? I could kill you! You have been with HER!" - -Quietly Gervase took his arm. - -"My good Denzil, you are mistaken! I confess to you frankly I -should have been with HER--you mean the Princess Ziska, of course- --had it been possible. But she has fled the city for the moment-- -at least, according to the corpse-like Nubian who acts as porter." - -"He lies!" exclaimed Denzil, hotly. "I saw her this morning." - -"I hope you improved your opportunity," said Gervase, -imperturbably. "Anyway, at the present moment she is not visible." - -A silence fell between them for some minutes; then Denzil spoke -again. - -"Gervase, it is no use, I cannot stand this sort of thing. We must -have it out. What does it all mean?" - -"It is difficult to explain, my dear boy," answered Gervase, half -seriously, half mockingly. "It means, I presume, that we are both -in love with the same woman, and that we both intend to try our -chances with her. But, as I told you the other night, I do not see -why we should quarrel about it. Your intentions towards the -Princess are honorable--mine are dishonorable, and I shall make no -secret of them. If you win her, I shall ..." - -He paused, and there was a sudden look in his eyes which gave them -a sombre darkness, darker than their own natural color. - -"You shall--what?" asked Denzil. - -"Do something desperate," replied Gervase. "What the something -will be depends on the humor of the moment. A tiger balked of his -prey is not an agreeable beast; a strong man deprived of the woman -he passionately desires is a little less agreeable even than the -tiger. But let us adopt the policy of laissez-faire. Nothing is -decided; the fair one cares for neither of us; let us be friends -until she makes her choice." - -"We cannot be friends," said Denzil, sternly. - -"Good! Let us be foes then, but courteous, even in our quarrel, -dear boy. If we must kill each other, let us do it civilly. To fly -at each other's throats would be purely barbaric. We owe a certain -duty to civilization; things have progressed since the days of -Araxes." - -Denzil stared at him gloomily. - -"Araxes is Dr. Dean's fad," he said. "I don't know anything about -Egyptian mummies, and don't want to know. My matter is with the -present, and not with the past." - -They had reached the hotel by this time, and turned into the -gardens side by side. - -"You understand?" repeated Denzil. "We cannot be friends!" - -Gervase gave him a profoundly courteous salute, and the two -separated. - -Later on in the afternoon, about an hour before dinner-time, -Gervase, strolling on the terrace of the hotel alone, saw Helen -Murray seated at a little distance under some trees, with a book -in her hand which she was not reading. There were tears in her -eyes, but as he approached her she furtively dashed them away and -greeted him with a poor attempt at a smile. - -"You have a moment to spare me?" he asked, sitting down beside -her. - -She bent her head in acquiescence. - -"I am a very unhappy man, Mademoiselle Helen," he began, looking -at her with a certain compassionate tenderness as he spoke. "I -want your sympathy, but I know I do not deserve it." - -Helen remained silent. A faint flush crimsoned her cheeks, but her -eyes were veiled under the long lashes--she thought he could not -see them. - -"You remember," he went on, "our pleasant times in Scotland? Ah, -it is a restful place, your Highland home, with the beautiful -purple hills rolling away in the distance, and the glorious moors -covered with fragrant heather, and the gurgling of the river that -runs between birch and fir and willow, making music all day long -for those who have the ears to listen, and the hearts to -understand the pretty love tune it sings! You know Frenchmen -always have more or less sympathy with the Scotch--some old -association, perhaps, with the romantic times of Mary Queen of -Scots, when the light and changeful fancies of Chastelard and his -brother poets and lutists made havoc in the hearts of many a -Highland maiden. What is that bright drop on your hand, Helen?-- -are you crying?" He waited a moment, and his voice was softer and -more tremulous. "Dear girl, I am not worthy of tears. I am not -good enough for you." - -He gave her time to recover her momentary emotion and then went -on, still softly and tenderly: - -"Listen, Helen. I want you to believe me and forgive me, if you -can. I know--I remember those moonlight evenings in Scotland--holy -and happy evenings, as sweet as flower-scented pages in a young -girl's missal; yes, and I did not mean to play with you, Helen, or -wound your gentle heart. I almost loved you!" He spoke the words -passionately, and for a moment she raised her eyes and looked at -him in something of fear as well as sorrow. "'Yes,' I said to my -self, 'this woman, so true and pure and fair, is a bride for a -king; and if I can win her--if!' Ah, there my musings stopped. But -I came to Egypt chiefly to meet you again, knowing that you and -your brother were in Cairo. How was I to know, how was I to guess -that this horrible thing would happen?" - -Helen gazed at him wonderingly. - -"What horrible thing?" she asked, falteringly, the rich color -coming and going on her face, and her heart beating violently as -she put the question. - -His eyes flashed. - -"This," he answered. "The close and pernicious enthralment of a -woman I never met till the night before last; a woman whose face -haunts me; a woman who drags me to her side with the force of a -magnet, there to grovel like a brain-sick fool and plead with her -for a love which I already know is poison to my soul! Helen, -Helen! You do not understand--you will never understand! Here, in -the very air I breathe, I fancy I can trace the perfume she shakes -from her garments as she moves; something indescribably -fascinating yet terrible attracts me to her; it is an evil -attraction, I know, but I cannot resist it. There is something -wicked in every man's nature; I am conscious enough that there is -something detestably wicked in mine, and I have not sufficient -goodness to overbalance it. And this woman,--this silent, gliding, -glittering-eyed creature that has suddenly taken possession of my -fancy--she overcomes me in spite of myself; she makes havoc of all -the good intentions of my life. I admit it--I confess it!" - -"You are speaking of the Princess Ziska?" asked Helen, -tremblingly. - -"Of whom else should I speak?" he responded, dreamily. "There is -no one like her; probably there never was anyone like her, except, -perhaps, Ziska-Charmazel!" - -As the name passed his lips, he sprang hastily up and stood -amazed, as though some sudden voice had called him. Helen Murray -looked at him in alarm. - -"Oh, what is it?" she exclaimed. - -He forced a laugh. - -"Nothing--nothing--but a madness! I suppose it is all a part of my -strange malady. Your brother is stricken with the same fever. -Surely you know that?" - -"Indeed I do know it," Helen answered, "to my sorrow!" - -He regarded her intently. Her face in its pure outline and quiet -sadness of expression touched him more than he cared to own even -to himself. - -"My dear Helen," he said, with an effort at composure, "I have -been talking wildly; you must forgive me! Don't think about me at -all; I am not worth it! Denzil has taken it into his head to -quarrel with me on account of the Princess Ziska, but I assure you -I will not quarrel with him. He is infatuated, and so am I. The -best thing for all of us to do would be to leave Egypt instantly; -I feel that instinctively, only we cannot do it. Something holds -us here. You will never persuade Denzil to go, and I--I cannot -persuade myself to go. There is a clinging sweetness in the air -for me; and there are vague suggestions, memories, dreams, -histories--wonderful things which hold me spell-bound! I wish I -could analyze them, recognize them, or understand them. But I -cannot, and there, perhaps, is their secret charm. Only one thing -grieves me, and that is, that I have, perhaps, unwittingly, in -some thoughtless way, given you pain; is it so, Helen?" - -She rose quickly, and with a quiet dignity held out her hand. - -"No, Monsieur Gervase," she said, "it is not so. I am not one of -those women who take every little idle word said by men in jest au -grand serieux! You have always been a kind and courteous friend, -and if you ever fancied you had a warmer feeling for me, as you -say, I am sure you were mistaken. We often delude ourselves in -these matters. I wish, for your sake, I could think the Princess -Ziska worthy of the love she so readily inspires. But,--I cannot! -My brother's infatuation for her is to me terrible. I feel it will -break his heart,--and mine!" A little half sob caught her breath -and interrupted her; she paused, but presently went on with an -effort at calmness: "You talk of our leaving Egypt; how I wish -that were possible! But I spoke to Denzil about it on the night of -the ball, and he was furious with me for the mere suggestion. It -seems like an evil fate." - -"It IS an evil fate," said Gervase gloomily. "Enfin, my dear -Helen, we cannot escape from it,--at least, _I_ cannot. But I -never was intended for good things, not even for a lasting love. A -lasting love I feel would bore me. You look amazed; you believe in -lasting love? So do many sweet women. But do you know what symbol -I, as an artist, would employ were I asked to give my idea of Love -on my canvas?" - -Helen smiled sadly and shook her head. - -"I would paint a glowing flame," said Gervase dreamily. "A flame -leaping up from the pit of hell to the height of heaven, springing -in darkness, lost in light; and flying into the centre of that -flame should be a white moth--a blind, soft, mad thing with -beating, tremulous wings,--that should be Love! Whirled into the -very heart of the ravening fire,--crushed, shrivelled out of -existence in one wild, rushing rapture--that is what Love must be -to me! One cannot prolong passion over fifty years, more or less, -of commonplace routine, as marriage would have us do. The very -notion is absurd. Love is like a choice wine of exquisite bouquet -and intoxicating flavor; it is the most maddening draught in the -world, but you cannot drink it every day. No, my dear Helen; I am -not made for a quiet life,--nor for a long one, I fancy." - -His voice unconsciously sank into a melancholy tone, and for one -moment Helen's composure nearly gave way. She loved him as true -women love, with that sublime self-sacrifice which only desires -the happiness of the thing beloved; yet a kind of insensate rage -stirred for once in her gentle soul to think that the mere sight -of a strange woman with dark eyes,--a woman whom no one knew -anything about, and who was by some people deemed a mere -adventuress,--should have so overwhelmed this man whose genius she -had deemed superior to fleeting impressions. Controlling the tears -that rose to her eyes and threatened to fall, she said gently, - -"Good-bye, Monsieur Gervase!" - -He started as from a reverie. - -"Good-bye, Helen! Some day you will think kindly of me again?" - -"I think kindly of you now," she answered tremulously; then, not -trusting herself to say any more, she turned swiftly and left him. - -"The flame and the moth!" he mused, watching her slight figure -till it had disappeared. "Yes, it is the only fitting symbol. Love -must be always so. Sudden, impetuous, ungovernable, and then--the -end! To stretch out the divine passion over life-long breakfasts -and dinners! It would be intolerable to me. Lord Fulkeward could -do that sort of thing; his chest is narrow, and his sentiments are -as limited as his chest. He would duly kiss his wife every morning -and evening, and he would not analyze the fact that no special -thrill of joy stirred in him at the action. What should he do with -thrills of joy--this poor Fulkeward? And yet it is likely he will -marry Helen. Or will it be the Courtney animal,--the type of man -whose one idea is 'to arise, kill, and eat?' "Ah, well!" and he -sighed. "She is not for me, this maiden grace of womanhood. If I -married her, I should make her miserable. I am made for passion, -not for peace." - -He started as he heard a step behind him, and turning, saw Dr. -Dean. The worthy little savant looked worried and preoccupied. - -"I have had a letter from the Princess Ziska," he said, without -any preliminary. "She has gone to secures rooms at the Mena House -Hotel, which is situated close to the Pyramids. She regrets she -cannot enter into the idea of taking a trip up the Nile. She has -no time, she says, as she is soon leaving Cairo. But she suggests -that we should make up a party for the Mena House while she is -staying there, as she can, so she tells me, make the Pyramids much -more interesting for us by her intimate knowledge of them. Now, to -me this is a very tempting offer, but I should not care to go -alone." - -"The Murrays will go, I am sure," murmured Gervase lazily. "At any -rate, Denzil will." - -The Doctor looked at him narrowly. - -"If Denzil goes, so will you go," he said. "Thus there are two -already booked for company. And I fancy the Fulkewards might like -the idea." - -"The Princess is leaving Cairo?" queried Gervase presently, as -though it were an after thought. - -"So she informs me in her letter. The party which is to come off -on Wednesday night is her last reception." - -Gervase was silent a moment. Then he said: - -"Have you told Denzil?" - -"Not yet." - -"Better do so then," and Gervase glanced up at the sky, now -glowing red with a fiery sunset. "He wants to propose, you know." - -"Good God!" cried the Doctor, sharply, "If he proposes to that -woman. ..." - -"Why should he not?" demanded Gervase. "Is she not as ripe for -love and fit for marriage as any other of her sex?" - -"Her sex!" echoed the Doctor grimly. "Her sex!--There!--for -heaven's sake don't talk to me!--leave me alone! The Princess -Ziska is like no woman living; she has none of the sentiments of a -woman,--and the notion of Denzil's being such a fool as to think -of proposing to her--Oh, leave me alone, I tell you! Let me worry -this out!" - -And clapping his hat well down over his eyes, he began to walk -away in a strange condition of excitement, which he evidently had -some difficulty in suppressing. Suddenly, however, he turned, came -back and tapped Gervase smartly on the chest. - -"YOU are the man for the Princess," he said impressively. "There -is a madness in you which you call love for her; you are her -fitting mate, not that poor boy, Denzil Murray. In certain men and -women spirit leaps to spirit,--note responds to note--and if all -the world were to interpose its trumpery bulk, nothing could -prevent such tumultuous forces rushing together. Follow your -destiny, Monsieur Gervase, but do not ruin another man's life on -the way. Follow your destiny,--complete it,--you are bound to do -so,--but in the havoc and wildness to come, for God's sake, let -the innocent go free!" - -He spoke with extraordinary solemnity, and Gervase stared at him -in utter bewilderment and perplexity, not understanding in the -least what he meant. But before he could interpose a word or ask a -question, Dr. Dean had gone. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - - -The next two or three days passed without any incident of interest -occurring to move the languid calm and excite the fleeting -interest of the fashionable English and European visitors who were -congregated at the Gezireh Palace Hotel. The anxious flirtations -of Dolly and Muriel Chetwynd Lyle afforded subjects of mirth to -the profane,--the wonderfully youthful toilettes of Lady Fulkeward -provided several keynotes from which to strike frivolous -conversation,--and when the great painter, Armand Gervase, -actually made a sketch of her ladyship for his own amusement, and -made her look about sixteen, and girlish at that, his popularity -knew no bounds. Everyone wanted to give him a commission, -particularly the elderly fair, and he could have made a fortune -had he chosen, after the example set him by the English -academicians, by painting the portraits of ugly nobodies who were -ready to pay any price to be turned out as handsome somebodies. -But he was too restless and ill at ease to apply himself steadily -to work,--the glowing skies of Egypt, the picturesque groups of -natives to be seen at every turn,--the curious corners of old -Cairo--these made no impression upon his mind at all, and when he -was alone, he passed whole half hours staring at the strange -picture he had made of the Princess Ziska, wherein the face of -death seemed confronting him through a mask of life. And he -welcomed with a strong sense of relief and expectation the long- -looked-for evening of the Princess's "reception," to which many of -the visitors in Cairo had been invited since a fortnight, and -which those persons who always profess to be "in the know," even -if they are wallowing in ignorance, declared would surpass any -entertainment ever given during the Cairene season. - -The night came at last. It was exceedingly sultry, but bright and -clear, and the moon shone with effective brilliance on the gayly- -attired groups of people that between nine and ten o'clock began -to throng the narrow street in which the carved tomb-like portal -of the Princess Ziska's residence was the most conspicuous object. -Lady Chetwynd Lyle, remarkable for bad taste in her dress and the -disposal of her diamonds, stared in haughty amazement at the -Nubian, who saluted her and her daughters with the grin peculiar -to his uninviting cast of countenance, and swept into the -courtyard attended by her husband with an air as though she -imagined her presence gave the necessary flavor of "good style" to -the proceedings. She was followed by Lady Fulkeward, innocently -clad in white and wearing a knot of lilies on her prettily- -enamelled left shoulder, Lord Fulkeward, Denzil Murray and his -sister. Helen also wore white, but though she was in the twenties -and Lady Fulkeward was in the sixties, the girl had so much -sadness in her face and so much tragedy in her soft eyes that she -looked, if anything, older than the old woman. Gervase and Dr. -Dean arrived together, and found themselves in a brilliant, -crushing crowd of people, all of different nationalities and all -manifesting a good deal of impatience because they were delayed a -few minutes in an open court, where a couple of stone lions with -wings were the only spectators of their costumes. - -"Most singular behavior!" said Lady Chetwynd Lyle, snorting and -sniffing, "to keep us waiting outside like this! The Princess has -no idea of European manners!" - -As she spoke, a sudden blaze of light flamed on the scene, and -twenty tall Egyptian servants in white, with red turbans, carrying -lighted torches and marching two by two crossed the court, and by -mute yet stately gestures invited the company to follow. And the -company did follow in haste, with scramble and rudeness, as is the -way of "European manners" nowadays; and presently, having been -relieved of their cloaks and wrappings, stood startled and -confounded in a huge hall richly adorned with silk and cloth of -gold hangings, where, between two bronze sphinxes, the Princess -Ziska, attired wonderfully in a dim, pale rose color, with flecks -of jewels flashing from her draperies here and there, waited to -receive her guests. Like a queen she stood,--behind her towered a -giant palm, and at her feet were strewn roses and lotus-lilies. On -either side of her, seated on the ground, were young girls -gorgeously clad and veiled to the eyes in the Egyptian fashion, -and as the staring, heated and impetuous swarm of "travelling" -English and Americans came face to face with her in her marvellous -beauty, they were for the moment stricken spellbound, and could -scarcely summon up the necessary assurance to advance and take the -hand she outstretched to them in welcome. She appeared not to see -the general embarrassment, and greeted all who approached her with -courteous ease and composure, speaking the few words which every -graceful hostess deems adequate before "passing on" her visitors. -And presently music began,--music wild and fantastic, of a -character unknown to modern fashionable ears, yet strangely -familiar to Armand Gervase, who started at the first sound of it, -and seemed enthralled. - -"That is not an ordinary orchestra," said Dr. Dean in his ear. -"The instruments are ancient, and the form of melody is barbaric." - -Gervase answered nothing, for the Princess Ziska just then -approached them. - -"Come into the Red Saloon," she said. "I am persuading my guests -to pass on there. I have an old bas-relief on the walls which I -would like you to see,--you, especially, Dr. Dean!--for you are so -learned in antiquities. I hear you are trying to discover traces -of Araxes?" - -"I am," replied the Doctor. "You interested me very much in his -history." - -"He was a great man," said the Princess, slowly piloting them as -she spoke, without hurry and with careful courtesy, through the -serried ranks of the now freely chattering and animated company. -"Much greater than any of your modern heroes. But he had two -faults; faults which frequently accompany the plentitude of -power,--cruelty and selfishness. He betrayed and murdered the only -woman that ever loved him, Ziska-Charmazel." - -"Murdered her!" exclaimed Dr. Dean. "How?" - -"Oh, it is only a legend!" and the Princess smiled, turning her -dark eyes with a bewitching languor on Gervase, who, for some -reason or other which he could not explain, felt as if he were -walking in a dream on the edge of a deep chasm of nothingness, -into which he must presently sink to utter destruction. "All these -old histories happened so long ago that they are nothing but myths -now to the present generation." - -"Time does not rob any incident of its interest to me," said Dr. -Dean. "Ages hence Queen Victoria will be as much a doubtful -potentate as King Lud. To the wise student of things there is no -time and no distance. All history from the very beginning is like -a wonderful chain in which no link is ever really broken, and in -which every part fits closely to the other part,--though why the -chain should exist at all is a mystery we cannot solve. Yet I am -quite certain that even our late friend Araxes has his connection -with the present, if only for the reason that he lived in the -past." - -"How do you argue out that theory!" asked Gervase with sudden -interest. - -"How do you argue it? The question is, how can you argue at all -about anything that is so plain and demonstrated a fact? The -doctrine of evolution proves it. Everything that we were once has -its part in us now. Suppose, if you like, that we were originally -no more than shells on the shore,--some remnant of the nature of -the shell must be in us at this moment. Nothing is lost,--nothing -is wasted,--not even a thought. I carry my theories very far," -pursued the Doctor, looking keenly from one to the other of his -silent companions as they walked beside him through a long -corridor towards the Red Saloon, which could be seen, brilliantly -lit up and thronged with people. "Very far indeed, especially in -regard to matters of love. I maintain that if it is decreed that -the soul of a man and the soul of a woman must meet,--must rush -together,--not all the forces of the universe can hinder them; -aye, even if they were, for some conventional cause or -circumstance themselves reluctant to consummate their destiny, it -would nevertheless, despite them, be consummated. For mark you,-- -in some form or other they have rushed together before! Whether as -flames in the air, or twining leaves on a tree, or flowers in a -field, they have felt the sweetness and fitness of each other's -being in former lives,--and the craving sense of that sweetness -and fitness can never be done away with,--never! Not as long as -this present universe lasts! It is a terrible thing," continued -the Doctor in a lower tone, "a terrible fatality,--the desire of -love. In some cases it is a curse; in others, a divine and -priceless blessing. The results depend entirely on the -temperaments of the human creatures possessed by its fever. When -it kindles, rises and burns towards Heaven in a steady flame of -ever-brightening purity and faith, then it makes marriage the most -perfect union on earth,--the sweetest and most blessed -companionship; but when it is a mere gust of fire, bright and -fierce as the sudden leaping light of a volcano, then it withers -everything at a touch,--faith, honor, truth,--and dies into dull -ashes in which no spark remains to warm or inspire man's higher -nature. Better death than such a love,--for it works misery on -earth; but who can tell what horrors it may not create Hereafter!" - -The Princess looked at him with a strange, weird gleam in her dark -eyes. - -"You are right," she said. "It is just the Hereafter that men -never think of. I am glad you, at least, acknowledge the truth of -the life beyond death." - -"I am bound to acknowledge it," returned the Doctor; "inasmuch as -I know it exists." - -Gervase glanced at him with a smile, in which there was something -of contempt. - -"You are very much behind the age, Doctor," he remarked lightly. - -"Very much behind indeed," agreed Dr. Dean composedly. "The age -rushes on too rapidly for me, and gives no time to the -consideration of things by the way. I stop,--I take breathing -space in which to think; life without thought is madness, and I -desire to have no part in a mad age." - -At that moment they entered the Red Saloon, a stately apartment, -which was entirely modelled after the most ancient forms of -Egyptian architecture. The centre of the vast room was quite clear -of furniture, so that the Princess Ziska's guests went wandering -up and down, to and fro, entirely at their ease, without crush or -inconvenience, and congregated in corners for conversation; though -if they chose they could recline on low divans and gorgeously- -cushioned benches ranged against the walls and sheltered by tall -palms and flowering exotics. The music was heard to better -advantage here than in the hall where the company had first been -received; and as the Princess moved to a seat under the pale green -frondage of a huge tropical fern and bade her two companions sit -beside her, sounds of the wildest, most melancholy and haunting -character began to palpitate upon the air in the mournful, -throbbing fashion in which a nightingale sings when its soul is -burdened with love. The passionate tremor that shakes the bird's -throat at mating-time seemed to shake the unseen instruments that -now discoursed strange melody, and Gervase, listening dreamily, -felt a curious contraction and aching at his heart and a sense of -suffocation in his throat, combined with an insatiate desire to -seize in his arms the mysterious Ziska, with her dark fathomless -eyes and slight, yet voluptuous, form,--to drag her to his breast -and crush her there, whispering: - -"Mine!--mine! By all the gods of the past and present--mine! Who -shall tear her from me,--who dispute my right to love her--ruin -her--murder her, if I choose? She is mine!" - -"The bas-relief I told you of is just above us," said the Princess -then, addressing herself to the Doctor; "would you like to examine -it? One of the servants shall bring you a lighted taper, and by -passing it in front of the sculpture you will be able to see the -design better. Ah, Mr. Murray!" and she smiled as she greeted -Denzil, who just then approached. "You are in time to give us your -opinion. I want Dr. Dean to see that very old piece of stone -carving on the wall above us,--it will serve as a link for him in -the history of Araxes." - -"Indeed!" murmured Denzil, somewhat abstractedly. - -The Princess glanced at his brooding face and laughed. - -"You, I know, are not interested at all in old history," she went -on. "The past has no attraction for you." - -"No. The present is enough," he replied, with a glance of mingled -hope and passion. - -She smiled, and signing to one of her Egyptian attendants, bade -him bring a lighted taper. He did so, and passed it slowly up and -down and to the right and left of the large piece of ancient -sculpture that occupied more than half the wall, while Dr. Dean -stood by, spectacles on nose, to examine the carving as closely as -possible. Several other people, attracted by what was going on, -paused to look also, and the Princess undertook to explain the -scene depicted. - -"This piece of carving is of the date of the King Amenhotep or -Amenophis III., of the Eighteenth Dynasty. It represents the -return of the warrior Araxes, a favorite servant of the king's, -after some brilliant victory. You see, there is the triumphal car -in which he rides, drawn by winged horses, and behind him are the -solar deities--Ra, Sikar, Tmu, and Osiris. He is supposed to be -approaching his palace in triumph; the gates are thrown open to -receive him, and coming out to meet him is the chief favorite of -his harem, the celebrated dancer of that period--Ziska-Charmazel." - -"Whom he afterwards murdered, you say?" queried Dr. Dean -meditatively. - -"Yes. He murdered her simply because she loved him too well and -was in the way of his ambition. There was nothing astonishing in -his behavior, not even if you consider it in the light of modern -times. Men always murder--morally, if not physically--the women -who love them too well." - -"You truly think that?" asked Denzil Murray in a low tone. - -"I not only truly think it, I truly know it!" she answered, with a -disdainful flash of her eyes. "Of course, I speak of strong men -with strong passions; they are the only kind of men women ever -worship. Of course, a weak, good-natured man is different; he -would probably not harm a woman for the world, or give her the -least cause for pain if he could help it, but that sort of man -never becomes either an adept or a master in love. Araxes was -probably both. No doubt he considered he had a perfect right to -slay what he had grown weary of; he thought no more than men of -his type think to-day, that the taking of a life demands a life in -exchange, if not in this world, then in the next." - -The group of people near her were all silent, gazing with an odd -fascination at the quaint and ancient-sculptured figures above -them, when all at once Dr. Dean, taking the taper from the hands -of the Egyptian servant, held the flame close to the features of -the warrior riding in the car of triumph, and said slowly: - -"Do you not see a curious resemblance, Princess, between this -Araxes and a friend of ours here present? Monsieur Armand Gervase, -will you kindly step forward? Yes, that will do, turn your head -slightly,--so! Yes! Now observe the outline of the features of -Araxes as carven in this sculpture thousands of years ago, and -compare it with the outline of the features of our celebrated -friend, the greatest French artist of his day. Am I the only one -who perceives the remarkable similarity of contour and -expression?" - -The Princess made no reply. A smile crossed her lips, but no word -escaped them. Several persons, however, pressed eagerly forward to -look at and comment upon what was indeed a startling likeness. The -same straight, fierce brows, the same proud, firm mouth, the same -almond-shaped eyes were, as it seemed, copied from the ancient -entablature and repeated in flesh and blood in the features of -Gervase. Even Denzil Murray, absorbed though he was in conflicting -thoughts of his own, was struck by the coincidence. - -"It is really very remarkable!" he said. "Allowing for the -peculiar style of drawing and design common to ancient Egypt, the -portrait of Araxes might pass for Gervase in Egyptian costume." - -Gervase himself was silent. Some mysterious emotion held him mute, -and he was only aware of a vague irritation that fretted him -without any seemingly adequate cause. Dr. Dean meanwhile pursued -his investigations with the lighted taper, and presently, turning -round on the assembled little group of bystanders, he said: - -"I have just discovered another singular thing. The face of the -woman here--the dancer and favorite--is the face of our charming -hostess, the Princess Ziska!" - -Exclamations of wonder greeted this announcement, and everybody -craned their necks to see. And then the Princess spoke, slowly and -languidly. - -"Yes," she murmured, "I was hoping you would perceive that. I -myself noticed how very like me is the famous Ziska-Charmazel, and -that is just why I dressed in her fashion for the fancy ball the -other evening. It seemed to me the best thing to do, as I wanted -to choose an ancient period, and then, you know, I bear half her -name." - -Dr. Dean looked at her keenly, and a somewhat grim smile wrinkled -his lips. - -"You could not have done better," he declared. "You and the -dancing-girl of Araxes might be twin sisters." - -He lowered the taper he held that it might more strongly illumine -her face, and as the outline of her head and throat and bust was -thrown into full relief, Gervase, staring at her, was again -conscious of that sudden, painful emotion of familiarity which had -before overwhelmed him, and he felt that in all the world he had -no such intimate knowledge of any woman as he had of Ziska. He -knew her! Ah!--how did he NOT know her? Every curve of that pliant -form was to him the living memory of something once possessed and -loved, and he pressed his hand heavily across his eyes for a -moment to shut out the sight of all the exquisite voluptuous grace -which shook his self-control and tempted him almost beyond man's -mortal endurance. - -"Are you not well, Monsieur Gervase?" said Dr. Dean, observing him -closely, and handing back the lighted taper to the Egyptian -servant who waited to receive it. "The portraits on this old -carving have perhaps affected you unpleasantly? Yet there is -really nothing of importance in such a coincidence." - -"Nothing of importance, perhaps, but surely something of -singularity," interrupted Denzil Murray, "especially in the -resemblance between the Princess and the dancing-girl of that -ancient period,--their features are positively line for line -alike." - -The Princess laughed. - -"Yes, is it not curious?" she said, and, taking the taper from her -servant, she sprang lightly on one of the benches near the wall -and leaned her beautiful head on the entablature, so that her -profile stood out close against that of the once reputed Ziska- -Charmazel. "We are, as Dr. Dean says, twins!" - -Several of the guests had now gathered together in that particular -part of the room, and they all looked up at her as she stood thus, -in silent and somewhat superstitious wonderment. The fascinating -dancer, famed in ages past, and the lovely, living charmeresse of -the present were the image of each other, and so extraordinary was -the resemblance that it was almost what some folks would term -"uncanny." The fair Ziska did not, however, give her acquaintances -time for much meditation or surprise concerning the matter, for -she soon came down from her elevation near the sculptured frieze -and, extinguishing the taper she held, she said lightly: - -"As Dr. Dean has remarked, there is really nothing of importance -in the coincidence. Ages ago, in the time of Araxes, roses must -have bloomed; and who shall say that a rose in to-day's garden is -not precisely the same in size, scent and color as one that Araxes -himself plucked at his palace gates? Thus, if flowers are born -alike in different ages, why not women and men?" - -"Very well argued, Princess," said the Doctor. "I quite agree with -you. Nature is bound to repeat some of her choicest patterns, lest -she should forget the art of making them." - -There was now a general movement among the guests, that particular -kind of movement which means irritability and restlessness, and -implies that either supper must be immediately served, or else -some novel entertainment be brought in to distract attention and -prevent tedium. The Princess, turning to Gervase, said smilingly: - -"Apropos of the dancing-girl of Araxes and the art of dancing -generally, I am going to entertain the company presently by -letting them see a real old dance of Thebes. If you will excuse me -a moment I must just prepare them and get the rooms slightly -cleared. I will return to you presently." - -She glided away with her usual noiseless grace, and within a few -minutes of her departure the gay crowds began to fall back against -the walls and disperse themselves generally in expectant groups -here and there, the Egyptian servants moving in and out and -evidently informing them of the entertainment in prospect. - -"Well, I shall stay here," said Dr. Dean, "underneath this -remarkable stone carving of your warrior-prototype, Monsieur -Gervase. You seem very much abstracted. I asked you before if you -were not well; but you never answered me." - -"I am perfectly well," replied Gervase, with some irritation. "The -heat is rather trying, that is all. But I attach no importance to -that stone frieze. One can easily imagine likenesses where there -are really none." - -"True!" and the Doctor smiled to himself, and said no more. Just -then a wild burst of music sounded suddenly through the apartment, -and he turned round in lively anticipation to watch the -proceedings. - -The middle of the room was now quite clear, and presently, moving -with the silent grace of swans on still water, came four girls -closely veiled, carrying quaintly-shaped harps and lutes. A Nubian -servant followed them, and spread a gold-embroidered carpet upon -the ground, whereon they all sat down and began to thrum the -strings of their instruments in a muffled, dreamy manner, playing -a music which had nothing of melody in it, and which yet vaguely -suggested a passionate tune. This thrumming went on for some time -when all at once from a side entrance in the hall a bright, -apparently winged thing bounded from the outer darkness into the -centre of the hall,--a woman clad in glistening cloth of gold and -veiled entirely in misty folds of white, who, raising her arms -gleaming with jewelled bangles high above her head, remained -poised on tiptoe for a moment, as though about to fly. Her bare -feet, white and dimpled, sparkled with gems and glittering -anklets; her skirts as she moved showed fluttering flecks of white -and pink like the leaves of May-blossoms shaken by a summer -breeze; the music grew louder and wilder, and a brazen clang from -unseen cymbals prepared her as it seemed for flight. She began her -dance slowly, gliding mysteriously from side to side, anon turning -suddenly with her head lifted, as though listening for some word -of love which should recall her or command; then, bending down -again, she seemed to float lazily like a creature that was dancing -in a dream without conscious knowledge of her actions. The brazen -cymbals clashed again, and then, with a wild, beautiful movement, -like that of a hunted stag leaping the brow of a hill, the dancer -sprang forward, turned, pirouetted and tossed herself round and -round giddily with a marvellous and exquisite celerity, as if she -were nothing but a bright circle of gold spinning in clear ether. -Spontaneous applause broke forth from every part of the hall; the -guests crowded forward, staring and almost breathless with -amazement. Dr. Dean got up in a state of the greatest excitement, -clapping his hands involuntarily; and Gervase, every nerve in his -body quivering, advanced one or two steps, feeling that he must -stop this bright, wild, wanton thing in her incessant whirling, or -else die in the hunger of love which consumed his soul. Denzil -Murray glanced at him, and, after a pause, left his side and -disappeared. Suddenly, with a quick movement, the dancer loosened -her golden dress and misty veil, and tossing them aside like -falling leaves, she stood confessed--a marvellous, glowing vision -in silvery white-no other than the Princess Ziska! - -Shouts echoed from every part of the hall: - -"Ziska! Ziska!" - -And at the name Lady Chetwynd Lyle rose in all her majesty from -the seat she had occupied till then, and in tones of virtuous -indignation said to Lady Fulkeward: - -"I told you the Princess was not a proper person! Now it is proved -I am right! To think I should have brought Dolly and Muriel here! -I shall really never forgive myself! Come, Sir Chetwynd,--let us -leave this place instantly!" - -And stout Sir Chetwynd, gloating on the exquisite beauty of the -Princess Ziska's form as she still danced on in her snowy white -attire, her lovely face alight with mirth at the surprise she had -made for her guests, tried his best to look sanctimonious and -signally failed in the attempt as he answered: - -"Certainly! Certainly, my dear! Most improper ... most -astonishing!" - -While Lady Fulkeward answered innocently: - -"Is it? Do you really think so? Oh, dear! I suppose it is -improper,--it must be, you know; but it is most delightful and -original!" - -And while the Chetwynd Lyles thus moved to depart in a cloud of -outraged propriety, followed by others who likewise thought it -well to pretend to be shocked at the proceeding, Gervase, dizzy, -breathless, and torn by such conflicting passions as he could -never express, was in a condition more mad than sane. - -"My God!" he muttered under his breath. "This--this is love! This -is the beginning and end of life! To possess her,--to hold her in -my arms--heart to heart, lips to lips ... this is what all the -eternal forces of Nature meant when they made me man!" - -And he watched with strained, passionate eyes the movements of the -Princess Ziska as they grew slower and slower, till she seemed -floating merely like a foam-bell on a wave, and then ... from some -unseen quarter of the room a rich throbbing voice began to sing:-- - - "Oh, for the passionless peace of the Lotus-Lily! - It floats in a waking dream on the waters chilly, - With its leaves unfurled - To the wondering world, - Knowing naught of the sorrow and restless pain - That burns and tortures the human brain; - Oh, for the passionless peace of the Lotus-Lily! - Oh, for the pure cold heart of the Lotus-Lily! - Bared to the moon on the waters dark and chilly. - A star above - Is its only love, - And one brief sigh of its scented breath - Is all it will ever know of Death; - Oh, for the pure cold heart of the Lotus-Lily!" - -As the sound died away in a sigh rather than a note, the Princess -Ziska's dancing ceased altogether. A shout of applause broke from -all assembled, and in the midst of it there was a sudden commotion -and excitement, and Dr. Dean was seen bending over a man's -prostrate figure. The great French painter, Armand Gervase, had -suddenly fainted. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - - -A curious yet very general feeling of superstitious uneasiness and -discomfort pervaded the Gezireh Palace Hotel the day after the -Princess Ziska's reception. Something had happened, and no one -knew what. The proprieties had been outraged, but no one knew why. -It was certainly not the custom for a hostess, and a Princess to -boot, to dance like a wild bacchante before a crowd of her invited -guests, yet, as Dr. Dean blandly observed,-- - -"Where was the harm? In London, ladies of good birth and breeding -went in for 'skirt-dancing,' and no one presumed to breathe a word -against their reputations; why in Cairo should not a lady go in -for a Theban dance without being considered improper?" - -Why, indeed? There seemed no adequate reason for being either -surprised or offended; yet surprised and offended most people -were, and scandal ran rife, and rumor wagged all its poisonous -tongues to spread evil reports against the Princess Ziska's name -and fame, till Denzil Murray, maddened and furious, rushed up to -his sister in her room and swore that he would marry the Princess -if he died for it. - -"They are blackguarding her downstairs, the beasts!" he said -hotly. "They are calling her by every bad name under the sun! But -I will make everything straight for her; she shall be my wife! If -she will have me, I will marry her to-morrow!" - -Helen looked at him in speechless despair. - -"Oh, Denzil!" she faltered, and then could say no more, for the -tears that blinded her eyes. - -"Oh, yes, of course, I know what you mean!" he continued, marching -up and down the room excitedly. "You are like all the others; you -think her an adventuress. I think her the purest, the noblest of -women! There is where we differ. I spoke to her last night,--I -told her I loved her." - -"You did?" and Helen gazed at him with wet, tragic eyes,--"And she -..." - -"She bade me be silent. She told me I must not speak--not yet. She -said she would give me her answer when we were all together at the -Mena House Hotel." - -"You intend to be one of the party there then?" said Helen -faintly. - -"Of course I do. And so do you, I hope." - -"No, Denzil, I cannot. Don't ask me. I will stay here with Lady -Fulkeward. She is not going, nor are the Chetwynd Lyles. I shall -be quite safe with them. I would rather not go to the Mena House,- --I could not bear it ..." - -Her voice gave way entirely, and she broke out crying bitterly. - -Denzil stood still and regarded her with a kind of sullen shame -and remorse. - -"What a very sympathetic sister you are!" he observed. "When you -see me madly in love with a woman--a perfectly beautiful, adorable -woman--you put yourself at once in the way and make out that my -marriage with her will be a misery to you. You surely do not -expect me to remain single all my life, do you?" - -"No, Denzil," sobbed Helen, "but I had hoped to see you marry some -sweet girl of our own land who would be your dear and true -companion,--who would be a sister to me,--who ... there! don't -mind me! Be happy in your own way, my dear brother. I have no -business to interfere. I can only say that if the Princess Ziska -consents to marry you, I will do my best to like her, for your -sake." - -"Well, that's something, at any rate," said Denzil, with an air of -relief. "Don't cry, Helen, it bothers me. As for the 'sweet girl' -you have got in view for me, you will permit me to say that 'sweet -girls' are becoming uncommonly scarce in Britain. What with -bicycle riders and great rough tomboys generally, with large hands -and larger feet, I confess I do not care about them. I like a -womanly woman,--a graceful woman,--a fascinating, bewitching -woman, and the Princess is all that and more. Surely you consider -her beautiful?" - -"Very beautiful indeed!" sighed poor Helen.--"Too beautiful!" - -"Nonsense! As if any woman can be too beautiful! I am sorry you -won't come to the Mena House. It would be a change for you,--and -Gervase is going." - -"Is he better to-day?" inquired Helen timidly. - -"Oh, I believe he is quite well again. It was the heat or the -scent of the flowers, or something of that sort, that made him -faint last night. He is not acclimatized yet, you know. And he -said that the Princess's dancing made him giddy." - -"I don't wonder at that," murmured Helen. - -"It was marvellous--glorious!" said Denzil dreamily. "It was like -nothing else ever seen or imagined!" - -"If she were your wife, would you care for her to dance before -people?" inquired Helen tremblingly. - -Denzil turned upon her in haughty wrath. - -"How like a woman that is! To insinuate a nasty suggestion--to -imply an innuendo without uttering it! If she were my wife, she -would do nothing unbecoming that position." - -"Then you did think it a little unbecoming?" persisted Helen. - -"No, I did NOT!" said Denzil sharply. "An independent woman may do -many things that a married woman may not. Marriage brings its own -duties and responsibilities,--time enough to consider them when -they come." - -He turned angrily on his heel and left her, and Helen, burying her -fair face in her hands, wept long and unrestrainedly. This -"strange woman out of Egypt" had turned her brother's heart -against her, and stolen away her almost declared lover. It was no -wonder that her tears fell fast, wrung from her with the pain of -this double wound; for Helen, though quiet and undemonstrative, -had fine feelings and unsounded depths of passion in her nature, -and the fatal attraction she felt for Armand Gervase was more -powerful than she had herself known. Now that he had openly -confessed his infatuation for another woman, it seemed as though -the earth had opened at her feet and shown her nothing but a grave -in which to fall. Life--empty and blank and bare of love and -tenderness, stretched before her imagination; she saw herself -toiling along the monotonously even road of duty till her hair -became gray and her face thin and wan and wrinkled, and never a -gleam again of the beautiful, glowing, romantic passion that for a -short time had made her days splendid with the dreams that are -sweeter than all realities. - -Poor Helen! It was little marvel that she wept as all women weep -when their hearts are broken. It is so easy to break a heart; -sometimes a mere word will do it. But the vanishing of the winged -Love-god from the soul is even more than heart-break,--it is utter -and irretrievable loss,--complete and dominating chaos out of -which no good thing can ever be designed or created. In our days -we do our best to supply the place of a reluctant Eros by the -gilded, grinning Mammon-figure which we try to consider as -superior to any silver-pinioned god that ever descended in his -rainbow car to sing heavenly songs to mortals; but it is an -unlovely substitute,--a hideous idol at best; and grasp its golden -knees and worship it as we will, it gives us little or no comfort -in the hours of strong temptation or trouble. We have made a -mistake--we, in our progressive generation,--we have banished the -old sweetnesses, triumphs and delights of life, and we have got in -exchange steam and electricity. But the heart of the age clamors -on unsatisfied,--none of our "new" ideas content it--nothing -pacifies its restless yearning; it feels--this great heart of -human life--that it is losing more than it gains, hence the -incessant, restless aching of the time, and the perpetual longing -for something Science cannot teach,--something vague, beautiful, -indefinable, yet satisfying to every pulse of the soul; and the -nearest emotion to that divine solace is what we in our higher and -better moments recognize as Love. And Love was lost to Helen -Murray; the choice pearl had fallen in the vast gulf of Might- -have-been, and not all the forces of Nature would ever restore to -her that priceless gem. - -And while she wept to herself in solitude, and her brother Denzil -wandered about in the gardens of the hotel, encouraging within -himself hopes of winning the bewitching Ziska for a wife, Armand -Gervase, shut up in his room under plea of slight indisposition, -reviewed the emotions of the past night and tired to analyze them. -Some men are born self-analysts, and are able to dissect their -feelings by some peculiar form of mental surgery which finally -leads them to cut out tenderness as though it were a cancer, love -as a disease, and romantic aspirations as mere uncomfortable -growths injurious to self-interest, but Gervase was not one of -these. Outwardly he assumed more or less the composed and careless -demeanor of the modern French cynic, but inwardly the man was a -raging fire of fierce passions which were sometimes too strong to -be held in check. At the present moment he was prepared to -sacrifice everything, even life itself, to obtain possession of -the woman he coveted, and he made no attempt whatever to resist -the tempest of desire that was urging him on with an invincible -force in a direction which, for some strange and altogether -inexplicable reason, he dreaded. Yes, there was a dim sense of -terror lurking behind all the wild passion that filled his soul--a -haunting, vague idea that this sudden love, with its glowing ardor -and intoxicating delirium, was like the brilliant red sunset which -frequently prognosticates a night of storm, ruin and death. Yet, -though he felt this presentiment like a creeping shudder of cold -through his blood, it did not hold him back, or for a moment -impress him with the idea that it might be better to yield no -further to this desperate love-madness which enthralled him. - -Once only, he thought, "What if I left Egypt now--at once--and saw -her no more?" And then he laughed scornfully at the impossibility -proposed. "Leave Egypt!" he muttered, "I might as well leave the -world altogether! She would draw me back with those sweet wild -eyes of hers,--she would drag me from the uttermost parts of the -earth to fall at her feet in a very agony of love. My God! She -must have her way and do with me as she will, for I feel that she -holds my life in her hands!" - -As he spoke these last words half aloud, he sprang up from the -chair in which he had been reclining, and stood for a moment lost -in frowning meditation. - -"My life in her hands!" he repeated musingly. "Yes, it has come to -that! My life!" A great sigh broke from him. "My life--my art--my -work--my name! In all these things I have taken pride, and she-- -she can trample them under her feet and make of me nothing more -than man clamoring for woman's love! What a wild world it is! What -a strange Force must that be which created it!--the Force that -some men call God and others Devil! A strange, blind, brute -Force!--for it makes us aspire only to fall; it gives a man dreams -of ambition and splendid attainment only to fling him like a mad -fool on a woman's breast, and bid him find there, and there only, -the bewildering sweetness which makes everything else in existence -poor and tame in comparison. Well, well--my life! What is it? A -mere grain of sand dropped in the sea; let her do with it as she -will. God! How I felt her power upon me last night,--last night -when her lithe figure swaying in the dance reminded me ..." - -He paused, startled at the turn his own thoughts were taking. - -"Of what? Let me try and express to myself now what I could not -express or realize last night. She--Ziska--I thought was mine,-- -mine from her dimpled feet to her dusky hair,--and she danced for -me alone. It seemed that the jewels she wore upon her rounded arms -and slender ankles were all love-gifts from me--every circlet of -gold, every starry, shining gem on her fair body was the symbol of -some secret joy between us--joy so keen as to be almost pain. And -as she danced, I thought I was in a vast hall of a majestic -palace, where open colonnades revealed wide glimpses of a burning -desert and deep blue sky. I heard the distant sound of rolling -drums, and not far off I saw the Sphinx--a creature not old but -new--resting upon a giant pedestal and guarding the sculptured -gate of some great temple which contained, as I then thought, all -the treasures of the world. I could paint the picture as I saw it -then! It was a fleeting impression merely, conjured up by the -dance that dizzied my brain. And that song of the Lotus-lily! That -was strange--very strange, for I thought I had heard it often -before,--and I saw myself in the vague dream, a prince, a warrior, -almost a king, and far more famous in the world than I am now!" - -He looked about him uneasily, with a kind of nervous terror, and -his eyes rested for a moment on the easel where the picture he had -painted of the Princess was placed, covered from view by a fold of -dark cloth. - -"Bah!" he exclaimed at last with a forced laugh, "What stupid -fancies fool me! It is all the vague talk of that would-be learned -ass, Dr. Dean, with his ridiculous theories about life and death. -I shall be imagining I am his fad, Araxes, next! This sort of -thing will never do. Let me reason out the matter calmly. I love -this woman,--love her to absolute madness. It is not the best kind -of love, maybe, but it is the only kind I am capable of, and such -as it is, she possesses it all. What then? Well! We go to-morrow -to the Pyramids, and we join her at the Mena House, I and the poor -boy Denzil. He will try his chance--I mine. If he wins, I shall -kill him as surely as I myself live,--yes, even though he is -Helen's brother. No man shall snatch Ziska from my arms and -continue to breathe. If I win, it is possible he may kill me, and -I shall respect him for trying to do it. But I shall satisfy my -love first; Ziska will be mine--mine in every sense of -possession,--before I die. Yes, that must be--that will have to -be. And afterwards,--why let Denzil do his worst; a man can but -die once." - -He drew the cloth off his easel and stared at the strange picture -of the Princess, which seemed almost sentient in its half- -watchful, half-mocking expression. - -"There is a dead face and a living one on this canvas," he said, -"and the dead face seems to enthral me as much as the living. Both -have the same cruel smile,--both the same compelling magnetism of -eye. Only it is a singular thing that I should know the dead face -even more intimately than the living--that the tortured look upon -it should be a kind of haunting memory--horrible--ghastly. ..." - -He flung the cloth over the easel again impatiently, and tried to -laugh at his own morbid imagination. - -"I know who is responsible for all this nonsense," he said. "It is -that ridiculous little half-mad faddist, Dr. Dean. He is going to -the Mena House, too. Well!--he will be the witness of a comedy or -a tragedy there,--and Heaven alone knows which it will be!" - -And to distract his thoughts from dwelling any longer on the -haunting ideas that perplexed him, he took up one of the latest -and frothiest of French novels and began to read. Some one in a -room not far off was singing a French song,--a man with a rich -baritone voice,--and unconsciously to himself Gervase caught the -words as they rang out full and clearly on the quiet, heated air-- - - O toi que j'ai tant aimee - Songes-tu que je t'aime encor? - Et dans ton ame alarmee, - Ne sens-tu pas quelque remord? - Viens avec moi, si tu m'aimes, - Habiter dans ces deserts; - Nous y vivrons pour nous memes, - Oublies de tout l'univers! - -And something like a mist of tears clouded his aching eyes as he -repeated, half mechanically and dreamily-- - - O toi que j'ai tant aimee, - Songes-tu que je t'aime encor? - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - - -For the benefit of those among the untravelled English who have -not yet broken a soda-water bottle against the Sphinx, or eaten -sandwiches to the immortal memory of Cheops, it may be as well to -explain that the Mena House Hotel is a long, rambling, roomy -building, situated within five minutes' walk of the Great Pyramid, -and happily possessed of a golfing-ground and a marble swimming- -bath. That ubiquitous nuisance, the "amateur photographer," can -there have his "dark room" for the development of his more or less -imperfect "plates"; and there is a resident chaplain for the -piously inclined. With a chaplain and a "dark room," what more can -the aspiring soul of the modern tourist desire? Some of the rooms -at the Mena House are small and stuffy; others large and furnished -with sufficient elegance: and the Princess Ziska had secured a -"suite" of the best that could be obtained, and was soon installed -there with befitting luxury. She left Cairo quite suddenly, and -without any visible preparation, the morning after the reception -in which she had astonished her guests by her dancing: and she did -not call at the Gezireh Palace Hotel to say good-bye to any of her -acquaintances there. She was perhaps conscious that her somewhat -"free" behavior had startled several worthy and sanctimonious -persons; and possibly she also thought that to take rooms in an -hotel which was only an hour's distance from Cairo, could scarcely -be considered as absenting herself from Cairene society. She was -followed to her desert retreat by Dr. Dean, Armand Gervase, and -Denzil Murray, who drove to the Mena House together in one -carriage, and were more or less all three in a sober and -meditative frame of mind. They arrived in time to see the Sphinx -bathed in the fierce glow of an ardent sunset, which turned the -golden sands to crimson, and made the granite monster look like a -cruel idol surrounded by a sea of blood. The brilliant red of the -heavens flamed in its stony eyes, and gave them a sentient look as -of contemplated murder,--and the same radiance fitfully playing on -the half-scornful, half-sensual lips caused them to smile with a -seeming voluptuous mockery. Dr. Dean stood transfixed for a while -at the strange splendor of the spectacle, and turning to his two -silent companions, said suddenly: - -"There is something, after all, in the unguessed riddle of the -Sphinx. It is not a fable; it is a truth. There is a problem to be -solved, and that monstrous creature knows it! The woman's face, -the brute's body--Spiritualism and Materialism in one! It is life, -and more than life; it is love. Forever and forever it teaches the -same wonderful, terrible mystery. We aspire, yet we fall; love -would fain give us wings wherewith to fly; but the wretched body -lies prone--supine; it cannot soar to the Light Eternal." - -"What IS the Light Eternal?" queried Gervase, moodily. "How do we -know it exists? We cannot prove it. This world is what we see; we -have to do with it and ourselves. Soul without body could not -exist. ..." - -"Could it not?" said the Doctor. "How, then, does body exist -without soul?" - -This was an unexpected but fair question, and Gervase found -himself curiously perplexed by it. He offered no reply, neither -did Denzil, and they all three slowly entered the Mena House -Hotel, there to be met with deferential salutations by the urbane -and affable landlord, and to be assured that they would find their -rooms comfortable, and also that "Madame la Princesse Ziska" -expected them to dine with her that evening. At this message, -Denzil Murray made a sign to Gervase that he wished to speak to -him alone. Gervase move aside with him. - -"Give me my chance!" said Denzil, fiercely. - -"Take it!" replied Gervase listlessly. "Let to-night witness the -interchange of hearts between you and the Princess; I shall not -interfere." - -Denzil stared at him in sullen astonishment. - -"You will not interfere? Your fancy for her is at an end?" - -Gervase raised his dark, glowing eyes and fixed them on his would- -be rival with a strange and sombre expression. - -"My 'fancy' for her? My good boy, take care what you say! Don't -rouse me too far, for I am dangerous! My 'fancy' for her! What do -you know of it? You are hot-blooded and young; but the chill of -the North controls you in a fashion, while I--a man in the prime -of manhood--am of the South, and the Southern fire brooks no -control. Have you seen a quiet ocean, smooth as glass, with only a -dimple in the deep blue to show that perhaps, should occasion -serve, there might arise a little wave? And have you seen the wild -storm breaking from a black cloud and suddenly making that quiet -expanse nothing but a tourbillon of furious elements, in which the -very sea-gull's cry is whelmed and lost in the thunder of the -billows? Such a storm as that may be compared to the 'fancy' you -suppose I feel for the woman who has dragged us both here to die -at her feet--for that, I believe, is what it will come to. Life is -not possible under the strain of emotion with which we two are -living it. ..." - -He broke off, then resumed in quieter tones: - -"I say to you: Use your opportunities while you have them. After -dinner I will leave you alone with the Princess. I will go out for -a stroll with Dr. Dean. Take your chance, Denzil, for, as I live, -it is your last! It will be my turn next! Give me credit for to- -night's patience!" - -He turned quickly away, and in a moment was gone. Denzil Murray -stood still for a while, thinking deeply, and trying to review the -position in which he found himself. He was madly in love with a -woman for whom his only sister had the most violent antipathy; and -that sister, who had once been all in all to him, had now become -almost less than nothing in the headstrong passion which consumed -him. No consideration for her peace and ultimate happiness -affected him, though he was sensible of a certain remorseful pity -when thinking of her gentle ways and docile yielding to his often -impatient and impetuous humors; but, after all, she was only his -sister,--she could not understand his present condition of mind. -Then there was Gervase, whom he had for some years looked upon as -one of his most admired and intimate friends; now he was nothing -more or less than a rival and an enemy, notwithstanding his -seeming courtesy and civil self-restraint. As a matter of fact, -he, Denzil, was left alone to face his fate: to dare the brilliant -seduction of the witching eyes of Ziska,--to win her or to lose -her forever! And consider every point as he would, the weary -conviction was borne in upon him that, whether he met with victory -or defeat, the result would bring more misery than joy. - -When he entered the Princess's salon that evening, he found Dr. -Dean and Gervase already there. The Princess herself, attired in a -dinner-dress made with quite a modern Parisian elegance, received -him in her usual graceful manner, and expressed with much -sweetness her hope that the air of the desert would prove -beneficial to him after the great heats that had prevailed in -Cairo. Nothing but conventionalities were spoken. Oh, those -conventionalities! What a world of repressed emotions they -sometimes cover! How difficult it is to conceive that the man and -woman who are greeting each other with calm courtesy in a crowded -drawing-room are the very two, who, standing face to face in the -moonlit silence of some lonely grove of trees or shaded garden, -once in their lives suddenly realized the wild passion that -neither dared confess! Tragedies lie deepest under -conventionalities--such secrets are buried beneath them as -sometimes might make the angels weep! They are safeguards, -however, against stronger emotions; and the strange bathos of two -human creatures talking politely about the weather when the soul -of each is clamoring for the other, has sometimes, despite its -absurdity, saved the situation. - -At dinner, the Princess Ziska devoted herself almost entirely to -the entertainment of Dr. Dean, and awakened his interest very -keenly on the subject of the Great Pyramid. - -"It has never really been explored," she said. "The excavators who -imagine they have fathomed its secrets are completely in error. -The upper chambers are mere deceits to the investigator; they were -built and planned purposely to mislead, and the secrets they hide -have never even been guessed at, much less discovered." - -"Are you sure of that?" inquired the Doctor, eagerly. "If so, -would you not give your information. ..." - -"I neither give my information nor sell it," interrupted the -Princess, smiling coldly. "I am only a woman--and women are -supposed to know nothing. With the rest of my sex, I am judged -illogical and imaginative; you wise men would call my knowledge of -history deficient, my facts not proven. But, if you like, I will -tell you the story of the construction of the Great Pyramid, and -why it is unlikely that anyone will ever find the treasures that -are buried within it. You can receive the narrative with the usual -incredulity common to men; I shall not attempt to argue the pros -and cons with you, because I never argue. Treat it as a fairy- -tale--no woman is ever supposed to know anything for a fact,--she -is too stupid. Only men are wise!" - -Her dark, disdainful glance flashed on Gervase and Denzil; anon -she smiled bewitchingly, and added: - -"Is it not so?" - -"Wisdom is nothing compared to beauty," said Gervase. "A beautiful -woman can turn the wisest man into a fool." - -The Princess laughed lightly. - -"Yes, and a moment afterwards he regrets his folly," she said. "He -clamors for the beautiful woman as a child might cry for the moon, -and when he at last possesses her, he tires. Satisfied with having -compassed her degradation, he exclaims: 'What shall I do with this -beauty, which, because it is mine, now palls upon me? Let me kill -it and forget it; I am aweary of love, and the world is full of -women!' That is the way of your sex, Monsieur Gervase; it is a -brutal way, but it is the one most of you follow." - -"There is such a thing as love!" said Denzil, looking up quickly, -a pained flush on his handsome face. - -"In the hearts of women, yes!" said Ziska, her voice growing -tremulous with strange and sudden passion. "Women love--ah!--with -what force and tenderness and utter abandonment of self! But their -love is in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred utterly wasted; it -is a largesse flung to the ungrateful, a jewel tossed in the mire! -If there were not some compensation in the next life for the ruin -wrought on loving women, the Eternal God himself would be a -mockery and a jest." - -"And is he not?" queried Gervase, ironically. "Fair Princess, I -would not willingly shake your faith in things unseen, but what -does the 'Eternal God,' as you call Him, care as to the destiny of -any individual unit on this globe of matter? Does He interfere -when the murderer's knife descends upon the victim? And has He -ever interfered? He it is who created the sexes and placed between -them the strong attraction that often works more evil and misery -than good; and what barrier has He ever interposed between woman -and man, her natural destroyer? None!--save the trifling one of -virtue, which is a flimsy thing, and often breaks down at the -first temptation. No, my dear Princess; the 'Eternal God,' if -there is one, does nothing but look on impassively at the -universal havoc of creation. And in the blindness and silence of -things, I cannot recognize an Eternal God at all; we were -evidently made to eat, drink, breed and die--and there an end." - -"What of ambition?" asked Dr. Dean. "What of the inspiration that -lifts a man beyond himself and his material needs, and teaches him -to strive after the Highest?" - -"Mere mad folly!" replied Gervase impetuously. "Take the Arts. I, -for example, dream of painting a picture that shall move the world -to admiration,--but I seldom grasp the idea I have imagined. I -paint something,--anything,--and the world gapes at it, and some -rich fool buys it, leaving me free to paint another something; and -so on and so on, to the end of my career. I ask you what -satisfaction does it bring? What is it to Raphael that thousands -of human units, cultured and silly, have stared at his 'Madonnas' -and his famous Cartoons?" - -"Well, we do not exactly know what it may or may not be to -Raphael," said the Doctor, meditatively. "According to my -theories, Raphael is not dead, but merely removed into another -form, on another planet possibly, and is working elsewhere. You -might as well ask what it is to Araxes now that he was a famous -warrior once?" - -Gervase moved uneasily. - -"You have got Araxes on the brain, Doctor," he said, with a forced -smile, "and in our conversation we are forgetting that the -Princess has promised to tell us a fairytale, the story of the -Great Pyramid." - -The Princess looked at him, then at Denzil Murray, and lastly at -Dr. Dean. - -"Would you really care to hear it?" she asked. - -"Most certainly!" they all three answered. - -She rose from the dinner-table. - -"Come here to the window," she said. "You can see the great -structure now, in the dusky light,--look at it well and try, if -you can, to realize that deep, deep down in the earth on which it -stands is a connected gallery of rocky caves wherein no human foot -has ever penetrated since the Deluge swept over the land and made -a desert of all the old-time civilization!" - -Her slight figure appeared to dilate as she spoke, raising one -slender hand and arm to point at the huge mass that towered up -against the clear, starlit sky. Her listeners were silent, awed -and attentive. - -"One of the latest ideas concerning the Pyramids is, as you know, -that they were built as towers of defence against the Deluge. That -is correct. The wise men of the old days foretold the time when -'the waters should rise and cover the earth,' and these huge -monuments were prepared and raised to a height which it was -estimated would always appear above the level of the coming flood, -to show where the treasures of Egypt were hidden for safety. Yes,- --the treasures of Egypt, the wisdom, the science of Egypt! They -are all down there still! And there, to all intents and purposes, -they are likely to remain." - -"But archaeologists are of the opinion that the Pyramids have been -thoroughly explored," began Dr. Dean, with some excitement. - -The Princess interrupted him by a slight gesture. - -"Archaeologists, my dear Doctor, are like the rest of this world's -so-called 'learned' men; they work in one groove, and are -generally content with it. Sometimes an unusually brilliant brain -conceives the erratic notion of working in several grooves, and is -straightway judged as mad or fanatic. It is when these comet-like -intelligences sweep across the world's horizon that we hear of a -Julius Caesar, a Napoleon, a Shakespeare. But archaeologists are -the narrowest and dryest of men,--they preconceive a certain -system of work and follow it out by mathematical rule and plan, -without one touch of imagination to help them to discover new -channels of interest or historical information. As I told you -before I began to speak, you are welcome to entirely disbelieve my -story of the Great Pyramid,--but as I have begun it, you may as -well hear it through." She paused a moment, then went on: -"According to my information, the building of the Pyramids was -commenced three hundred years before the Deluge, in the time of -Saurid, the son of Sabaloc, who, it is said, was the first to -receive a warning dream of the coming flood. Saurid, being -convinced by his priests, astrologers and soothsayers that the -portent was a true one, became from that time possessed of one -idea, which was that the vast learning of Egypt, its sciences, -discoveries and strange traditions should not be lost,--and that -the exploits and achievements of those who were great and famous -in the land should be so recorded as never to be forgotten. In -those days, here where you see these measureless tracts of sand, -there were great mountainous rocks and granite quarries, and -Saurid utilized these for the hollowing out of deep caverns in -which to conceal treasure. When these caverns were prepared to his -liking, he caused a floor to be made, portions of which were -rendered movable by means of secret springs, and then leaving a -hollow space of some four feet in height, he started foundations -for another floor above it. This upper floor is what you nowadays -see when you enter the Pyramid,--and no one imagines that under it -is an open space with room to walk in, and yet another floor -below, where everything of value is secreted." - -Dr. Dean drew a long breath of wonderment. - -"Astonishing, if true!" - -The Princess smiled somewhat disdainfully, and went on: - -"Saurid's work was carried on after his death by his successors, -and with thousands of slaves toiling night and day the Pyramids -were in the course of years raised above the caverns which -concealed Egypt's mysteries. Everything was gradually accumulated -in these underground store-houses,--the engraved talismans, the -slabs of stone on which were deeply carved the geometrical and -astronomical sciences; indestructible glass chests containing -papyri, on which were written the various discoveries made in -beneficial drugs, swift poisons, and other medicines. And among -these many things were thirty great jars full of precious stones, -some of which were marvels of the earth. They are there still! And -some of the great men who died were interred in these caves, every -one in a separate chamber inlaid with gold and gems, and I think," -here the Princess turned her dark eyes full on Dr. Dean, "I think -that if you knew the secret way of lifting the apparently -immovable floor, which is like the solid ground, and descending -through the winding galleries beneath, it is more than probable -you would find in the Great Pyramid the tomb of Araxes!" - -Her eyes glistened strangely in the evening light with that -peculiar fiery glow which had made Dr. Dean once describe them as -being like the eyes of a vampire-bat, and there was something -curiously impressive in her gesture as she once more pointed to -the towering structure which loomed against the heavens, with one -star flashing immediately above it. A sudden involuntary shudder -shook Gervase as with icy cold; he moved restlessly, and presently -remarked: - -"Well, it is a safe tomb, at any rate! Whoever Araxes was, he -stands little chance of being exhumed if he lies two floors below -the Great Pyramid in a sealed-up rocky cavern! Princess, you look -like an inspired prophetess!--so much talk of ancient and musty -times makes me feel uncanny, and I will, with your permission, -have a smoke with Dr. Dean in the garden to steady my nerves. The -mere notion of thirty vases of unclaimed precious stones hidden -down yonder is enough to upset any man's equanimity!" - -"The papyri would interest me more than the jewels," said Dr. -Dean. "What do you say, Denzil?" - -Denzil Murray woke up suddenly from a fit of abstraction. - -"Oh, I don't know anything about it," he answered. "I never was -very much interested in those old times,--they seem to me all -myth. I could never link past, present and future together as some -people can; they are to me all separate things. The past is done -with,--the present is our own to enjoy or to detest, and the -future no man can look into." - -"Ah, Denzil, you are young, and reflection has not been very hard -at work in that headstrong brain of yours," said Dr. Dean with an -indulgent smile, "otherwise you would see that past, present and -future are one and indissoluble. The past is as much a part of -your present identity as the present, and the future, too, lies in -you in embryo. The mystery of one man's life contains all -mysteries, and if we could only understand it from its very -beginning we should find out the cause of all things, and the -ultimate intention of creation." - -"Well, now, you have all had enough serious talk," said the -Princess Ziska lightly, "so let us adjourn to the drawing-room. -One of my waiting-women shall sing to you by and by; she has a -very sweet voice." - -"Is it she who sings that song about the lotus-lily?" asked -Gervase, suddenly. - -The Princess smiled strangely. - -"Yes,--it is she." - -Dr. Dean chose a cigar from a silver box on the table; Gervase did -the same. - -"Won't you smoke, Denzil?" he asked carelessly. - -"No, thanks!" Denzil spoke hurriedly and hoarsely. "I think--if -the Princess will permit me--I will stay and talk with her in the -drawing-room while you two have your smoke together." - -The Princess gave a charming bow of assent to this proposition. -Gervase took the Doctor somewhat roughly by the arm and led him -out through the open French window into the grounds beyond, -remarking as he went: - -"You will excuse us, Princess? We leave you in good company!" - -She smiled. - -"I will excuse you, certainly! But do not be long!" - -And she passed from the dining-room into the small saloon beyond, -followed closely by Denzil. - -Once out in the grounds, Gervase gave vent to a boisterous fit of -wild laughter, so loud and fierce that little Dr. Dean came to an -abrupt standstill, and stared at him in something of alarm as well -as amazement. - -"Are you going mad, Gervase?" he asked. - -"Yes!" cried Gervase, "that is just it,--I am going mad,--mad for -love, or whatever you please to call it! What do you think I am -made of? Flesh and blood, or cast-iron? Heavens! Do you think if -all the elements were to combine in a war against me, they should -cheat me out of this woman or rob me of her? No, no! A thousand -times no! Satisfy yourself, my excellent Doctor, with your musty -records of the past,--prate as you choose of the future,--but in -the immediate, burning, active present my will is law! And the -fool Denzil thinks to thwart me,--I, who have never been thwarted -since I knew the meaning of existence!" - -He paused in a kind of breathless agitation, and Dr. Dean grasped -his arm firmly. - -"Come, come, what is all this excitement for?" he said. "What are -you saying about Denzil?" - -Gervase controlled himself with a violent effort and forced a -smile. - -"He has got his chance,--I have given it to him! He is alone with -the Princess, and he is asking her to be his wife!" - -"Nonsense!" said the Doctor sharply. "If he does commit such a -folly, it will be no use. The woman is NOT HUMAN!" - -"Not human?" echoed Gervase, his black eyes dilating with a sudden -amazement--"What do you mean?" - -The little Doctor rubbed his nose impatiently and seemed sorry he -had spoken. - -"I mean--let me see! What do I mean?" he said at last -meditatively--"Oh, well, it is easy enough of explanation. There -are plenty of people like the Princess Ziska to whom I would apply -the words 'not human.' She is all beauty and no heart. Again--if -you follow me--she is all desire and no passion, which is a -character 'like unto the beasts which perish.' A large majority of -men are made so, and some women,--though the women are -comparatively few. Now, so far as the Princess Ziska is -concerned," continued the Doctor, fixing his keen, penetrative -glance on Gervase as he spoke, "I frankly admit to you that I find -in her material for a very curious and complex study. That is why -I have come after her here. I have said she is all desire and no -passion. That of itself is inhuman; but what I am busy about now -is to try and analyze the nature of the particular desire that -moves her, controls her, keeps her alive,--in short. It is not -love; of that I feel confident; and it is not hate,--though it is -more like hate than love. It is something indefinable, something -that is almost occult, so deep-seated and bewildering is the -riddle. You look upon me as a madman--yes! I know you do! But mad -or sane, I emphatically repeat, the Princess is NOT HUMAN, and by -this expression I wish to imply that though she has the outward -appearance of a most beautiful and seductive human body, she has -the soul of a fiend. Now, do you understand me?" - -"It would take Oedipus himself all his time to do that,"--said -Gervase, forcing a laugh which had no mirth in it, for he was -conscious of a vaguely unpleasant sensation--a chill, as of some -dark presentiment, which oppressed his mind. "When you know I do -not believe in the soul, why do you talk to me about it? The soul -of a fiend,--the soul of an angel,--what are they? Mere empty -terms to me, meaning nothing. I think I agree with you though, in -one or two points concerning the Princess; par exemple, I do not -look upon her as one of those delicately embodied purities of -womanhood before whom we men instinctively bend in reverence, but -whom, at the same time, we generally avoid, ashamed of our -vileness. No; she is certainly not one of the - - "'Maiden roses left to die - Because they climb so near the sky, - That not the boldest passer-by - Can pluck them from their vantage high.' - -And whether it is best to be a solitary 'maiden-rose' or a -Princess Ziska, who shall say? And human or inhuman, whatever -composition she is made of, you may make yourself positively -certain that Denzil Murray is just now doing his best to persuade -her to be a Highland chatelaine in the future. Heavens, what a -strange fate it will be for la belle Egyptienne!" - -"Oh, you think she IS Egyptian then?" queried Dr. Dean, with an -air of lively curiosity. - -"Of course I do. She has the Egyptian type of form and -countenance. Consider only the resemblance between her and the -dancer she chose to represent the other night--the Ziska-Charmazel -of the antique sculpture on her walls!" - -"Ay, but if you grant one resemblance, you must also admit -another," said the Doctor quickly. "The likeness between yourself -and the old-world warrior, Araxes, is no less remarkable!" Gervase -moved uneasily, and a sudden pallor blanched his face, making it -look wan and haggard in the light of the rising moon. "And it is -rather singular," went on the imperturbable savant, "that -according to the legend or history--whichever you please to -consider it,--for in time, legends become histories and histories -legends--Araxes should have been the lover of this very Ziska- -Charmazel, and that you, who are the living portrait of Araxes, -should suddenly become enamored of the equally living portrait of -the dead woman! You must own, that to a mere onlooker and observer -like myself, it seems a curious coincidence!" - -Gervase smoked on in silence, his level brows contracted in a -musing frown. - -"Yes, it seems curious," he said at last, "but a great many -curious coincidences happen in this world--so many that we, in our -days of rush and turmoil, have not time to consider them as they -come or go. Perhaps of all the strange things in life, the sudden -sympathies and the headstrong passions which spring up in a day or -a night between certain men and certain women are the strangest. I -look upon you, Doctor, as a very clever fellow with just a little -twist in his brain, or let us say a 'fad' about spiritual matters; -but in one of your more or less fantastic and extravagant theories -I am half disposed to believe, and that is the notion you have of -the possibility of some natures, male and female, having met -before in a previous state of existence and under different forms, -such as birds, flowers, or forest animals, or even mere -incorporeal breaths of air and flame. It is an idea which I -confess fascinates me. It seems fairly reasonable too, for, as -many scientists argue that you cannot destroy matter, but only -transform it, there is really nothing impossible in the -suggestion." - -He paused, then added slowly as he flung the end of his cigar -away: - -"I have felt the force of this odd fancy of yours most strongly -since I met the Princess Ziska." - -"Indeed! Then the impression she gave you first is still upon you- --that of having known her before?" - -Gervase waited a minute or two before replying; then he answered: - -"Yes. And not only of having known her before, but of having loved -her before. Love!--mon Dieu!--what a tame word it is! How poorly -it expresses the actual emotion! Fire in the veins--delirium in -the brain--reason gone to chaos! And this madness is mildly -described as 'love?'" - -"There are other words for it," said the Doctor. "Words that are -not so poetic, but which, perhaps, are more fitting." - -"No!" interrupted Gervase, almost fiercely. "There are no words -which truly describe this one emotion which rules the world. I -know what YOU mean, of course; you mean evil words, licentious -words, and yet it has nothing whatever to do with these. You -cannot call such an exalted state of the nerves and sensations by -an evil name." - -Dr. Dean pondered the question for a few moments. - -"No, I am not sure that I can," he said, meditatively. "If I did, -I should have to give an evil name to the Creator who designed man -and woman and ordained the law of attraction which draws, and -often DRAGS them together. I like to be fair to everybody, the -Creator included; yet to be fair to everybody I shall appear to -sanction immorality. For the fact is that our civilization has -upset all the original intentions of nature. Nature evidently -meant Love, or the emotion we call Love, to be the keynote of the -universe. But apparently Nature did not intend marriage. The -flowers, the birds, the lower animals, mate afresh every spring, -and this is the creed that the disciples of Naturalism nowadays -are anxious to force upon the attention of the world. It is only -men and women, they say, that are so foolish as to take each other -for better or worse till death do them part. Now, I should like, -from the physical scientist's point of view, to prove that the men -and women are wrong, and that the lower animals are right; but -spiritual science comes in and confutes me. For in spiritual -science I find this truth, which will not be gainsaid--namely, -that from time immemorial, certain immortal forms of Nature have -been created solely for one another; like two halves of a circle, -they are intended to meet and form the perfect round, and all the -elements of creation, spiritual and material, will work their -hardest to pull them together. Such natures, I consider, should -absolutely and imperatively be joined in marriage. It then becomes -a divine decree. Even grant, if you like, that the natures so -joined are evil, and that the sympathy between them is of a more -or less reprehensible character, it is quite as well that they -should unite, and that the result of such an union should be seen. -The evil might come out of them in a family of criminals which the -law could exterminate with advantage to the world in general. -Whereas on the other hand, given two fine and aspiring natures -with perfect sympathy between them, as perfect as the two notes of -a perfect chord, the children of such a marriage would probably be -as near gods as humanity could bring them. I speak as a scientist -merely. Such consequences are not foreseen by the majority, and -marriages as a rule take place between persons who are by no means -made for each other. Besides, a kind of devil comes into the -business, and often prevents the two sympathetic natures -conjoining. Love-matters alone are quite sufficient to convince me -that there IS a devil as well as a divinity that 'shapes our -ends.'" - -"You speak as if you yourself had loved, Doctor," said Gervase, -with a half smile. - -"And so I have," replied the Doctor, calmly. "I have loved to the -full as passionately and ardently as even you can love. I thank -God the woman I loved died,--I could never have possessed her, for -she was already wedded,--and I would not have disgraced her by -robbing her from her lawful husband. So Death stepped in and gave -her to me--forever!" and he raised his eyes to the solemn starlit -sky. "Yes, nothing can ever come between us now; no demon tears -her white soul from me; she died innocent of evil, and she is -mine--mine in every pulse of her being, as we shall both know -hereafter!" - -His face, which was not remarkable for any beauty of feature, grew -rapt and almost noble in its expression, and Gervase looked at him -with a faint touch of ironical wonder. - -"Upon my word, your morality almost outreaches your mysticism!" he -said. "I see you are one of those old-fashioned men who think -marriage a sacred sort of thing and the only self-respecting form -of love." - -"Old-fashioned I may be," replied Dr. Dean; "but I certainly -believe in marriage for the woman's sake. If the license of men -were not restrained by some sort of barrier it would break all -bounds. Now I, had I chosen, could have taken the woman I loved to -myself; it needed but a little skilful persuasion on my part, for -her husband was a drink-sodden ruffian..." - -"And why, in the name of Heaven, did you not do so?" demanded -Gervase impatiently. - -"Because I know the end of all such liaisons," said the Doctor -sadly. "A month or two of delirious happiness, then years of -remorse to follow. The man is lowered in his own secret estimation -of himself, and the woman is hopelessly ruined, socially and -morally. No, Death is far better; and in my case Death has proved -a good friend, for it has given me the spotless soul of the woman -I loved, which is far fairer than her body was." - -"But, unfortunately, intangible!" said Gervase, satirically. - -The Doctor looked at him keenly and coldly. - -"Do not be too sure of that, my friend! Never talk about what you -do not understand; you only wander astray. The spiritual world is -a blank to you, so do not presume to judge of what you will never -realize TILL REALIZATION IS FORCED UPON YOU!" - -He uttered the last words with slow and singular emphasis. - -"Forced upon me?" began Gervase. "What do you mean? ..." - -He broke off abruptly, for at that moment Denzil Murray emerged -from the doorway of the hotel, and came towards them with an -unsteady, swaying step like that of a drunken man. - -"You had better go in to the Princess," he said, staring at -Gervase with a wild smile; "she is waiting for you!" - -"What's the matter with you, Denzil?" inquired Dr. Dean, catching -him by the arm as he made a movement to go on and pass them. - -Denzil stopped, frowning impatiently. - -"Matter? Nothing! What should be the matter?" - -"Oh, no offence; no offence, my boy!" and Dr. Dean at once -loosened his arm. "I only thought you looked as if you had had -some upset or worry, that's all." - -"Climate! climate!" said Denzil, hoarsely. "Egypt does not agree -with me, I suppose!--the dryness of the soil breeds fever and a -touch of madness! Men are not blocks of wood or monoliths of -stone; they are creatures of flesh and blood, of nerve and muscle; -you cannot torture them so..." - -He interrupted himself with a kind of breathless irritation at his -own speech. Gervase regarded him steadily, slightly smiling. - -"Torture them how, Denzil?" asked the Doctor, kindly. "Dear lad, -you are talking nonsense. Come and stroll with me up and down; the -air is quite balmy and delightful; it will cool your brain." - -"Yes, it needs cooling!" retorted Denzil, beginning to laugh with -a sort of wild hilarity. "Too much wine,--too much woman,--too -much of these musty old-world records and ghastly pyramids!" - -Here he broke off, adding quickly: - -"Doctor, Helen and I will go back to England next week, if all is -well." - -"Why, certainly, certainly!" said Dr. Dean, soothingly. "I think -we are all beginning to feel we have had enough of Egypt. I shall -probably return home with you. Meanwhile, come for a stroll and -talk to me; Monsieur Armand Gervase will perhaps go in and excuse -us for a few minutes to the Princess Ziska." - -"With pleasure!" said Gervase; then, beckoning Denzil Murray -aside, he whispered: - -"Tell me, have you won or lost?" - -"Lost!" replied Denzil, fiercely, through his set teeth. "It is -your turn now! But, if you win, as sure as there is a God above -us, I will kill you!" - -"SOIT! But not till I am ready for killing! AFTER TO-MORROW NIGHT -I shall be at your service, not till then!" - -And smiling coldly, his dark face looking singularly pale and -stern in the moonlight, Gervase turned away, and, walking with his -usual light, swift, yet leisurely tread, entered the Princess's -apartment by the French window which was still open, and from -which the sound of sweet music came floating deliciously on the -air as he disappeared. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - - -In a half-reclining attitude of indolently graceful ease, the -Princess Ziska watched from beneath the slumbrous shadow of her -long-fringed eyelids the approach of her now scarcely-to-be -controlled lover. He came towards her with a certain impetuosity -of movement which was so far removed from ordinary conventionality -as to be wholly admirable from the purely picturesque point of -view, despite the fact that it expressed more passion and -impatience than were in keeping with nineteenth-century customs -and manners. He had almost reached her side before he became aware -that there were two other women in the room besides the Princess,- --silent, veiled figures that sat, or rather crouched, on the -floor, holding quaintly carved and inlaid musical instruments of -some antique date in their hands, the only sign of life about them -being their large, dark, glistening almond-shaped eyes, which were -every now and then raised and fixed on Gervase with an intense and -searching look of inquiry. Strangely embarrassed by their glances, -he addressed the Princess in a low tone: - -"Will you not send away your women?" - -She smiled. - -"Yes, presently; if you wish it, I will. But you must hear some -music first. Sit down there," and she pointed with her small -jewelled hand to a low chair near her own. "My lutist shall sing -you something,--in English, of course!--for all the world is being -Anglicized by degrees, and there will soon be no separate nations -left. Something, too, of romantic southern passion is being -gradually grafted on to English sentiment, so that English songs -are not so stupid as they were once. I translated some stanzas -from one of the old Egyptian poets into English the other day, -perhaps you will like them. Myrmentis, sing us the 'Song of -Darkness.'" - -An odd sensation of familiarity with the name of "Myrmentis" -startled Gervase as he heard it pronounced, and he looked at the -girl who was so called in a kind of dread. But she did not meet -his questioning regard,--she was already bending over her lute and -tuning its strings, while her companion likewise prepared to -accompany her on a similar though larger instrument, and in an- -other moment her voice, full and rich, with a sobbing passion in -it which thrilled him to the inmost soul, rang out on the warm -silence: - - In the darkness what deeds are done! - What wild words spoken! - What joys are tasted, what passion wasted! - What hearts are broken! - Not a glimpse of the moon shall shine, - Not a star shall mark - The passing of night,--or shed its light - On my Dream of the Dark! - - On the scented and slumbrous air, - Strange thoughts are thronging; - And a blind desire more fierce than fire - Fills the soul with longing; - Through the silence heavy and sweet - Comes the panting breath - Of a lover unseen from the Might-Have-Been, - Whose loving is Death! - - In the darkness a deed was done, - A wild word spoken! - A joy was tasted,--a passion wasted,-- - A heart was broken! - Not a glimpse of the moon shall shine, - Not a star shall mark - The passing of night,--or shed its light - On my Dream of the Dark! - -The song died away in a shuddering echo, and before Gervase had -time to raise his eyes from their brooding study of the floor the -singer and her companion had noiselessly disappeared, and he was -left alone with the Princess Ziska. He drew along breath, and -turning fully round in his chair, looked at her steadily. There -was a faint smile on her lips--a smile of mingled mockery and -triumph,--her beautiful witch-like eyes glittered. Leaning towards -her, he grasped her hands suddenly in his own. - -"Now," he whispered, "shall I speak or be silent?" - -"Whichever you please," she responded composedly, still smiling. -"Speech or silence rest equally with yourself. I compel neither." - -"That is false!" he said passionately. "You do compel! Your eyes -drag my very soul out of me--your touch drives me into frenzy! You -temptress! You force me to speak, though you know already what I -have to say! That I love you, love you! And that you love me! That -your whole life leaps to mine as mine to yours! You know all this; -if I were stricken dumb, you could read it in my face, but you -will have it spoken--you will extort from me the whole secret of -my madness!--yes, for you to take a cruel joy in knowing that I AM -mad--mad for the love of you! And you cannot be too often or too -thoroughly assured that your own passion finds its reflex in me!" - -He paused, abruptly checked in his wild words by the sound of her -low, sweet, chill laughter. She withdrew her hands from his -burning grasp. - -"My dear friend," she said lightly, "you really have a very -excellent opinion of yourself--excuse me for saying so! 'My own -passion!' Do you actually suppose I have a 'passion' for you?" And -rising from her chair, she drew up her slim supple figure to its -full height and looked at him with an amused and airy scorn. "You -are totally mistaken! No one man living can move me to love; I -know all men too well! Their natures are uniformly composed of the -same mixture of cruelty, lust and selfishness; and forever and -forever, through all the ages of the world, they use the greater -part of their intellectual abilities in devising new ways to -condone and conceal their vices. You call me 'temptress';--why? -The temptation, if any there be, emanates from yourself and your -own unbridled desires; I do nothing. I am made as I am made; if my -face or my form seems fair in your eyes, this is not my fault. -Your glance lights on me, as the hawk's lights on coveted prey; -but think you the prey loves the hawk in response? It is the -mistake all men make with all women,--to judge them always as -being of the same base material as themselves. Some women there -are who shame their womanhood; but the majority, as a rule, -preserve their self-respect till taught by men to lose it." - -Gervase sprang up and faced her, his eyes flashing dangerously. - -"Do not make any pretence with me!" he said half angrily. "Never -tell me you cannot love! ..." - -"I HAVE loved!" she interrupted him. "As true women love,--once, -and only once. It suffices; not for one lifetime, but many. I -loved; and gave myself ungrudgingly and trustingly to the man my -soul worshipped. I was betrayed, of course!--it is the usual -story--quite old, quite commonplace! I can tell it to you without -so much as a blush of pain! Since then I have not loved,--I have -HATED; and I live but for one thing--Revenge." - -Her face paled as she spoke, and a something vague, dark, spectral -and terrible seemed to enfold her like a cloud where she stood. -Anon she smiled sweetly, and with a bewitching provocativeness. - -"Your 'passion,' you see, my friend awakens rather a singular -'reflex' in me!--not quite of the nature you imagined!" - -He remained for a moment inert; then, with an almost savage -boldness, threw his arm about her. - -"Have everything your own way, Ziska!" he said in quick, fierce -accents. "I will accept all your fancies, and humor all your -caprices. I will grant that you do not love me--I will even -suppose that I am repellent to you,--but that shall make no -difference to my desire! You shall be mine!--willing or unwilling! -If every kiss I take from your lips be torn from you with -reluctance, yet those kisses I will have!--you shall not escape -me! You--you, out of all women in the world, I choose..." - -"As your wife?" said Ziska slowly, her dark eyes gleaming with a -strange light as she dexterously withdrew herself from his -embrace. - -He uttered an impatient exclamation. - -"My wife! Dieu! What a banalite! You, with your exquisite, glowing -beauty and voluptuous charm, you would be a 'wife'--that tiresome -figure-head of utterly dull respectability? You, with your -unmatched air of wild grace and freedom, would submit to be tied -down in the bonds of marriage,--marriage, which to my thinking and -that of many other men of my character, is one of the many curses -of this idiotic nineteenth century! No, I offer you love, Ziska!-- -ideal, passionate love!--the glowing, rapturous dream of ecstasy -in which such a thing as marriage would be impossible, the merest -vulgar commonplace--almost a profanity." - -"I understand!" and the Princess Ziska regarded him intently, her -breath coming and going, and a strange smile quivering on her -lips. "You would play the part of an Araxes over again!" - -He smiled; and with all the audacity of a bold and determined -nature, put his arms round her and drew her close up to his -breast. - -"Yes," he said, "I would play the part of an Araxes over again!" - -As he uttered the words, an indescribable sensation of horror -seized him--a mist darkened his sight, his blood grew cold, and a -tremor shook him from head to foot. The fair woman's face that was -lifted so close to his own seemed spectral and far off; and for a -fleeting moment her very beauty grew into something like -hideousness, as if the strange effect of the picture he had -painted of her was now becoming actual and apparent--namely, the -face of death looking through the mask of life. Yet he did not -loosen his arms from about her waist; on the contrary he clasped -her even more closely, and kept his eyes fixed upon her with such -pertinacity that it seemed as if he expected her to vanish from -his sight while he still held her. - -"To play the part of an Araxes aright," she murmured then in slow -and dulcet accents, "you would need to be cruel and remorseless, -and sacrifice my life--or any woman's life--to your own clamorous -and selfish passion. But you,--Armand Gervase,--educated, -civilized, intellectual, and totally unlike the barbaric Araxes, -could not do that, could you? The progress of the world, the -increasing intelligence of humanity, the coming of the Christ, -these things are surely of some weight with you, are they not? Or -are you made of the same savage and impenitent stuff as composed -the once famous yet brutal warrior of old time? Do you admire the -character and spirit of Araxes?--he who, if history reports him -truly, would snatch a woman's life as though it were a wayside -flower, crush out all its sweetness and delicacy, and then fling -it into the dust withered and dead? Do you think that because a -man is strong and famous, he has a right to the love of woman?--a -charter to destroy her as he pleases? If you remember the story I -told you, Araxes murdered with his own hand Ziska-Charmazel the -woman who loved him." - -"He had perhaps grown weary of her," said Gervase, speaking with -an effort, and still studying the exquisite loveliness of the -bewitching face that was so close to his own, like a man in a -dream. - -At this she laughed, and laid her two hands on his shoulders with -a close and clinging clasp which thrilled him strangely. - -"Ah, there is the difficulty!" she said. - -"What cure shall ever be found for love-weariness? Men are all -like children--they tire of their toys; hence the frequent trouble -and discomfort of marriage. They grow weary of the same face, the -same caressing arms, the same faithful heart! You, for instance, -would grow weary of me!" - -"I think not," answered Gervase. And now the vague sense of -uncertainty and pain which had distressed him passed away, leaving -him fully self-possessed once more. "I think you are one of those -exceptional women whom a man never grows weary of: like a -Cleopatra, or any other old-world enchantress, you fascinate with -a look, you fasten with a touch, and you have a singular freshness -and wild attraction about you which makes you unlike any other of -your sex. I know well enough that I shall never get the memory of -you out of my brain; your face will haunt me till I die!" - -"And after death?" she queried, half-closing her eyes, and -regarding him languorously through her silky black lashes. - -"Ah, ma belle, after that there is nothing to be done even in the -way of love. Tout est fini! Considering the brevity of life and -the absolute certainty of death, I think that the men and women -who are so foolish as to miss any opportunities of enjoyment while -they are alive deserve more punishment than those who take all -they can get, even in the line of what is called wickedness. -Wickedness is a curious thing: it takes different shapes in -different lands, and what is called 'wicked' here, is virtue in, -let us say, the Fiji Islands. There is really no strict rule of -conduct in the world, no fixed law of morality." - -"There is honor!" said the Princess, slowly;--"A code which even -savages recognize." - -He was silent. For a moment he seemed to hesitate; but his -indecision soon passed. His face flushed, and anon grew pale, as -closing his arms more victoriously round the fair woman who just -then appeared voluntarily to yield to his embrace, he bent down -and whispered a few words in the tiny ear, white and delicate as a -shell, which was half-hidden by the rich loose clusters of her -luxuriant hair. She heard, and smiled; and her eyes flashed with a -singular ferocity which he did not see, otherwise it might have -startled him. - -"I will answer you to-morrow," she said. "Be patient till then." - -And as she spoke, she released herself determinedly from the clasp -of his arms and withdrew to a little distance, looking at him with -a fixed and searching scrutiny. - -"Do not preach patience to me!" he exclaimed with a laugh. "I -never had that virtue, and I certainly cannot begin to cultivate -it now." - -"Had you ever any virtues?" she asked in a playful tone of -something like satire. - -He shrugged his shoulders. - -"I do not know what you consider virtues," he answered lightly: -"If honesty is one, I have that. I make no pretence to be what I -am not. I would not pass off somebody else's picture as my own, -for instance. But I cannot sham to be moral. I could not possibly -love a woman without wanting her all to myself, and I have not the -slightest belief in the sanctimonious humbug of a man who plays -the Platonic lover only. But I don't cheat, and I don't lie. I am -what I am. ..." - -"A man!" said Ziska, a lurid and vindictive light dilating and -firing her wonderful eyes. "A man!--the essence of all that is -evil, the possibility of all that is good! But the essence is -strong and works; the possibility is a dream which dissolves in -the dreaming!" - -"Yes, you are right, ma chere!" he responded carelessly. -"Goodness--as the world understands goodness--never makes a career -for itself worth anything. Even Christ, who has figured as a -symbol of goodness for eighteen hundred years, was not devoid of -the sin of ambition: He wanted to reign over all Judaea." - -"You view Him in that light?" inquired Ziska with a keen look. -"And as man only?" - -"Why, of course! The idea of an incarnate God has long ago been -discarded by all reasoning thinkers." - -"And what of an incarnate devil?" pursued Ziska, her breath coming -and going quickly. - -"As impossible as the other fancy!" he responded almost gayly. -"There are no gods and no devils, ma belle! The world is ruled by -ourselves alone, and it behoves us to make the best of it. How -will you give me my answer to-morrow? When shall I see you? Speak -low and quickly,--Dr. Dean is coming in here from the garden: -when--when?" - -"I will send for you," she answered. - -"At what hour?" - -"The moon rises at ten. And at ten my messenger shall come for -you." - -"A trustworthy messenger, I hope? One who knows how to be silent?" - -"As silent as the grave!" she said, looking at him fixedly. "As -secret as the Great Pyramid and the hidden tomb of Araxes!" - -And smiling, she turned to greet Dr. Dean, who just then entered -the saloon. - -"Denzil has gone to bed," he announced. "He begged me to excuse -him to you, Princess. I think the boy is feverish. Egypt doesn't -agree with him." - -"I am sorry he is ill," said the Princess with a charming air of -sympathy. - -"Oh, he isn't exactly ill," returned the Doctor, looking sharply -at her beautiful face as he spoke. "He is simply unnerved and -restless. I am a little anxious about him. I think he ought to go -back to England--or Scotland." - -"I think so, too," agreed Gervase. "And Mademoiselle Helen with -him." - -"Mademoiselle Helen you consider very beautiful?" murmured the -Princess, unfurling her fan and waving it indolently to and fro. - -"No, not beautiful," answered the Doctor quickly. "But very -pretty, sweet and lovable--and good." - -"Ah then, of course some one will break her heart!" said the -Princess calmly. "That is what always happens to good women." - -And she smiled as she saw Gervase flush, half with anger, half -with shame. The little Doctor rubbed his nose crossly. - -"Not always, Princess," he said. "Sometimes it does; in fact -pretty often. It is an unfortunate truth that virtue is seldom -rewarded in this world. Virtue in a woman nowadays---" - -"Means no lovers and no fun!" said Gervase gayly. "And the -possibility of a highly decorous marriage with a curate or a -bankclerk, followed by the pleasing result of a family of little -curates or little bank-clerks. It is not a dazzling prospect!" - -The Doctor smiled grimly; then after a wavering moment of -indecision, broke out into a chuckling laugh. - -"You have an odd way of putting things," he said. "But I'm afraid -you may be right in your estimate of the position. Quite as many -women are as miserably sacrificed on the altar of virtue as of -vice. It is 'a mad world,' as Shakespeare says. I hope the next -life we pass into after this one will at least be sane." - -"Well, if you believe in Heaven, you have Testament authority for -the fact that there will be 'neither marriage nor giving in -marriage' there, at any rate," laughed Gervase. "And if we wish to -follow that text out truly in our present state of existence and -become 'as the angels of God' we ought at once to abolish -matrimony." - -"Have done! Have done!" exclaimed the Doctor, still smiling, -however, notwithstanding his protest. "You Southern Frenchmen are -half barbarians,--you have neither religion nor morality." - -"Dieu merci!" said Gervase, irreverently; then turning to the -Princess Ziska, he bowed low and with a courtly grace over the -hand she extended towards him in farewell. "Good-night, -Princess!"--then in a whisper he added: "To-morrow I shall await -your summons." - -"It will come without fail, never fear!" she answered in equally -soft tones. "I hope it may find you ready." - -He raised his eyes and gave her one long, lingering, passionate -look; then with another "Good-night," which included Dr. Dean, -left the room. The Doctor lingered a moment, studying the face and -form of the Princess with a curiously inquisitive air; while she -in her turn confronted him haughtily, and with a touch of defiance -in her aspect. - -"Well," said the savant presently, after a pause: "Now you have -got him, what are you going to do with him?" - -She smiled coldly, but answered nothing. - -"You need not flash your beautiful eyes at me in that eminently -unpleasant fashion," pursued the Doctor, easily. "You see I KNOW -YOU, and I am not afraid of you. I only make a stand against you -in one respect: you shall not kill the boy Denzil." - -"He is nothing to me!" she said, with a gesture of contempt. - -"I know he is nothing to you; but you are something to him. He -does not recognize your nature as I do. I must get him out of the -reach of your spell--" - -"You need not trouble yourself," she interrupted him, a sombre -melancholy darkening her face; "I shall be gone to-morrow." - -"Gone altogether?" inquired the Doctor calmly and without -surprise,--"Not to come back?" - -"Not in this present generation!" she answered. - -Still Dr. Dean evinced no surprise. - -"Then you will have satisfied yourself?" he asked. - -She bent her head. - -"For the time being--yes! I shall have satisfied myself." - -There followed a silence, during which the little Doctor looked at -his beautiful companion with all the meditative interest of a -scientist engaged in working out some intricate and deeply -interesting problem. - -"I suppose I may not inquire how you propose to obtain this -satisfaction?" he said. - -"You may inquire, but you will not be answered!" she retorted, -smiling darkly. - -"Your intentions are pitiless?" - -Still smiling, she said not a word. - -"You are impenitent?" - -She remained silent. - -"And, worst of all, you do not desire redemption! You are one of -those who forever and ever cry, 'Evil, be thou my good!' Thus for -you, Christ died in vain!" - -A faint tremor ran through her, but she was still mute. - -"So you and creatures like you, must have their way in the world -until the end," concluded the Doctor, thoughtfully. "And if all -the philosophers that ever lived were to pronounce you what you -are, they would be disbelieved and condemned as madmen! Well, -Princess, I am glad I have never at any time crossed your path -till now, or given you cause of offence against me. We part -friends, I trust? Good-night! Farewell!" - -She held out her hand. He hesitated before taking it. - -"Are you afraid?" she queried coldly. "It will not harm you!" - -"I am afraid of nothing," he said, at once clasping the white -taper fingers in his own, "except a bad conscience." - -"That will never trouble you!" and the Princess looked at him full -and steadily. "There are no dark corners in your life--no mean -side-alleys and trap-holes of deceit; you have walked on the open -and straight road. You are a good man and a wise one. But though -you, in your knowledge of spiritual things, recognize me for what -I am, take my advice and be silent on the matter. The world would -never believe the truth, even if you told it, for the time is not -yet ripe for men and women to recognize the avengers of their -wicked deeds. They are kept purposely in the dark lest the light -should kill!" - -And with her sombre eyes darkening, yet glowing with the inward -fire that always smouldered in their dazzling depths, she saluted -him gravely and gracefully, watching him to the last as he slowly -withdrew. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - - -The next day broke with a bright, hot glare over the wide desert, -and the sky in its cloudless burning blue had more than its usual -appearance of limitless and awful immensity. The Sphinx and the -Pyramids alone gave a shadow and a substance to the dazzling and -transparent air,--all the rest of the visible landscape seemed -naught save a far-stretching ocean of glittering sand, scorched by -the blazing sun. Dr. Maxwell Dean rose early and went down to the -hotel breakfast in a somewhat depressed frame of mind; he had -slept badly, and his dreams had been unpleasant, when not actually -ghastly, and he was considerably relieved, though he could not -have told why, when he saw his young friend Denzil Murray, seated -at the breakfast table, apparently enjoying an excellent meal. - -"Hullo, Denzil!" he exclaimed cheerily, "I hardly expected you -down yet. Are you better?" - -"Thanks, I am perfectly well," said Denzil, with a careless air. -"I thought I would breakfast early in order to drive into Cairo -before the day gets too sultry." - -"Into Cairo!" echoed the Doctor. "Why, aren't you going to stay -here a few days?" - -"No, not exactly," answered Denzil, stirring his coffee quickly -and beginning to swallow it in large gulps. "I shall be back to- -night, though. I'm only going just to see my sister and tell her -to prepare for our journey home. I shan't be absent more than a -few hours." - -"I thought you might possibly like to go a little further up the -Nile?" suggested the Doctor. - -"Oh, no, I've had enough of it! You see, when a man proposes to a -woman and gets refused, he can't keep on dangling round that woman -as if he thought it possible she might change her mind." And he -forced a smile. "I've got an appointment with Gervase to-morrow -morning, and I must come back to-night in order to keep it--but -after that I'm off." - -"An appointment with Gervase?" repeated the Doctor, slowly. "What -sort of an appointment?" - -Denzil avoided his keen look. - -"Really, Doctor, you are getting awfully inquisitive!" he -exclaimed with a hard laugh. "You want to know altogether too -much!" - -"Yes, I always do; it is a habit of mine," responded Dr. Dean, -calmly. "But in the present case, it doesn't need much perspicuity -to fathom your mystery. The dullest clod-hopper will tell you he -can see through a millstone when there's a hole in it. And I was -always a good hand at putting two and two together and making four -out of them. You and Gervase are in love with the same woman; the -woman has rejected you and is encouraging Gervase; Gervase, you -think, will on this very night be in the position of the accepted -lover, for which successful fortune, attending him, you, the -rejected one, propose to kill him to-morrow morning if you can, -unless he kills you. And you are going to Cairo to get your -pistols or whatever weapons you have arranged to fight with, and -also to say good-bye to your sister." - -Denzil kept his eyes fixed studiously on the table-cloth and made -no answer. - -"However," continued the Doctor complacently, "you can have it all -your own way as far as I am concerned. I never interfere in these -sort of matters. I should do no good if I attempted it. Besides, I -haven't the slightest anxiety on your behalf--not the slightest. -Waiter, some more coffee, please?" - -"Upon my word!" exclaimed Denzil, with a fretful laugh, "you are a -most extraordinary man, Doctor!" - -"I hope I am!" retorted the Doctor. "To be merely ordinary would -not suit my line of ambition. This is very excellent coffee"--here -he peered into the fresh pot of the fragrant beverage just set -before him. "They make it better here than at the Gezireh Palace. -Well, Denzil, my boy, when you get into Cairo, give my love to -Helen and tell her we'll all go home to the old country together; -I, myself, have got quite enough out of Egypt this time to satisfy -my fondness for new experiences. And let me assure you, my good -fellow, that your proposed duel with Gervase will not come off!" - -"It will come off!" said Denzil, with sudden fierceness. "By -Heaven, it shall!--it must!" - -"More wills than one have the working out of our destinies," -answered Dr. Dean with some gravity. "Man is not by any means -supreme. He imagines he is, but that is only one of his many -little delusions. You think you will have your way; Gervase thinks -he will have his way; I think I will have my way; but as a matter -of fact there is only one person in this affair whose 'way' will -be absolute, and that person is the Princess Ziska. Ce que femme -veut Dieu veut." - -"She has nothing whatever to do with the matter," declared Denzil. - -"Pardon! She has everything to do with it. She is the cause of it -and she knows it. And as I have already told you, your proposed -fight will not come off." And the little Doctor smiled serenely. -"There is your carriage at the door, I suppose. Off with you, my -boy!--be off like a whirlwind, and return here armed to the teeth -if you like! You have heard the expression 'fighting the air'? -That is what you will do tomorrow morning!" - -And apparently in the best of all possible humors, Dr. Dean -accompanied his young friend to the portico of the hotel and -watched him drive off down the stately avenue of palm-trees which -now cast their refreshing shade on the entire route from the -Pyramids to Cairo. When he had fairly gone, the thoughtful savant -surveyed the different tourists who were preparing to ascend the -Pyramids under the escort of their Arab guides, regardless of the -risks they ran of dislocated arms and broken shoulder-bones,--and -in the study of the various odd types thus presented to him, he -found himself fairly well amused. - -"Protoplasm--mere protoplasm!" he murmured. "The germ of soul has -not yet attained to individual consciousness in any one of these -strange bipeds. Their thoughts are as jelly,--their reasoning -powers in embryo,--their intellectual faculties barely -perceptible. Yet they are interesting, viewed in the same light -and considered on the same scale as fish or insects merely. As men -and women of course they are misnomers,--laughable -impossibilities. Well, well!--in the space of two or three -thousand years, the protoplasm may start into form out of the -void, and the fibres of a conscious Intellectuality may sprout,-- -but it will have to be in some other phase of existence--certainly -not in this one. And now to shut myself up and write my memoranda- --for I must not lose a single detail of this singular Egyptian -psychic problem. The whole thing I perceive is rounding itself -towards completion and catastrophe--but in what way? How will it-- -how CAN it end?" - -And with a meditative frown puckering his brows, Dr. Dean folded -his hands behind his back and retired to his own room, from whence -he did not emerge all day. - -Armand Gervase in the meanwhile was making himself the life and -soul of everything at the Mena House Hotel. He struck up an easy -acquaintance with several of the visitors staying there,--said -pretty things to young women and pleasant things to old,--and in -the course of a few hours succeeded in becoming the most popular -personage in the place. He accepted invitations to parties, and -agreed to share in various' excursions, till he engaged himself -for every day in the coming week, and was so gay and gallant and -fascinating in manner and bearing that fair ladies lost their -hearts to him at a glance, and what amusement or pleasure there -was at the Mena House seemed to be doubly enhanced by the mere -fact of his presence. In truth Gervase was in a singular mood of -elation and excitation; a strong inward triumph possessed him and -filled his soul with an imperious pride and sense of conquest -which, for the time being, made him feel as though he were a very -king of men. There was nothing in his nature of the noble -tenderness which makes the lover mentally exalt his beloved as a -queen before whom he is content to submit his whole soul in -worship; what he realized was merely this: that here was one of -the most beautiful and seductive women ever created, in the person -of the Princess Ziska, and that he, Gervase, meant to possess that -loveliest of women, whatever happened in the near or distant -future. Of her, and of the influence of his passion on her -personally, he did not stop to think, except with the curiously -blind egotism which is the heritage of most men, and which led him -to judge that her happiness would in some way or other be enhanced -by his brief and fickle love. For, as a rule, men do not -understand love. They understand desire, amounting sometimes to -merciless covetousness for what they cannot get,--this is a -leading natural characteristic of the masculine nature--but Love-- -love that endures silently and faithfully through the stress of -trouble and the passing of years--love which sacrifices everything -to the beloved and never changes or falters,--this is a divine -passion which seldom or never sanctifies and inspires the life of -a man. Women are not made of such base material; their love -invariably springs first from the Ideal, not the Sensual, and if -afterwards it develops into the sensual, it is through the rough -and coarsening touch of man alone. - -Throughout the entire day the Princess Ziska herself never left -her private apartments, and towards late afternoon Gervase began -to feel the hours drag along with unconscionable slowness and -monotony. Never did the sun seem so slow in sinking; never did the -night appear so far off. When at last dinner was served in the -hotel, both Denzil Murray and Dr. Dean sat next to him at table, -and, judging from outward appearances, the most friendly relations -existed between all three of them. At the close of the meal, -however, Denzil made a sign to Gervase to follow him, and when -they had reached a quiet corner, said: - -"I am aware of your victory; you have won where I have lost. But -you know my intention?" - -"Perfectly!" responded Gervase, with a cool smile. - -"By Heaven!" went on the younger man, in accents of suppressed -fury, "if I yielded to the temptation which besets me when I see -you standing there facing me, with your easy and self-satisfied -demeanor,--when I know that you mean dishonor where I meant -honor,--when you have had the effrontery to confess to me that you -only intend to make the Princess Ziska your mistress when I would -have made her my wife,--God! I could shoot you dead at this -moment!" - -Gervase looked at him steadily, still smiling slightly; then -gradually the smile died away, leaving his countenance shadowed by -an intense melancholy. - -"I can quite enter into your feelings, my dear boy!" he said. "And -do you know, I'm not sure that it would not be a good thing if you -were to shoot me dead! My life is of no particular value to -anybody,--certainly not to myself; and I begin to think I've been -always more or less of a failure. I have won fame, but I have -missed--something--but upon my word, I don't quite know what!" - -He sighed heavily, then suddenly held out his hand. - -"Denzil, the bitterest foes shake hands before fighting each other -to the death, as we propose to do to-morrow; it is a civil custom -and hurts no one, I should like to part kindly from you to-night!" - -Denzil hesitated; then something stronger than himself made him -yield to the impulsive note of strong emotion in his former -friend's voice, and the two men's hands met in a momentary silent -grasp. Then Denzil turned quickly away. - -"To-morrow morning at six," he said, briefly; "close to the -Sphinx." - -"Good!" responded Gervase. "The Sphinx shall second us both and -see fair play. Good-night, Denzil!" - -"Good-night!" responded Denzil, coldly, as he moved on and -disappeared. - -A slight shiver ran through Gervase's blood as he watched him -depart. - -"Odd that I should imagine I have seen the last of him!" he -murmured. "There are strange portents in the air of the desert, I -suppose! Is he going to his death? Or am I going to mine?" - -Again the cold tremor shook him, and combating with his uneasy -sensations, he went to his own apartment, there to await the -expected summons of the Princess. No triumph filled him now; no -sense of joy elated him; a vague fear and dull foreboding were all -the emotions he was conscious of. Even his impatient desire of -love had cooled, and he watched the darkening of night over the -desert, and the stars shining out one by one in the black azure of -the heavens, with a gradually deepening depression. A dreamy sense -stole over him of remoteness or detachment from all visible -things, as though he were suddenly and mysteriously separated from -the rest of humankind by an invisible force which he was powerless -to resist. He was still lost in this vague half-torpor or semi- -conscious reverie, when a light tap startled him back to the -realization of earth and his earthly surroundings. In response to -his "Entrez!" the tall Nubian, whom he had seen in Cairo as the -guardian of the Princess's household, appeared, his repulsive -features looking, if anything, more ghastly and hideous than ever. - -"Madame la Princesse demande votre presence!" said this unlovely -attendant of one of the fairest of women. "Suivez-moi!" - -Without a moment's hesitation or loss of time, Gervase obeyed, and -allowing his guide to precede him at a little distance, followed -him through the corridors of the hotel, out at the hall door and -beyond, through the garden. A clock struck ten as they passed into -the warm evening air, and the mellow rays of the moon were -beginning to whiten the sides of the Great Pyramid. A few of the -people staying in the hotel were lounging about, but these paid no -particular heed to Gervase or his companion. At about two hundred -yards from the entrance of the Mena House, the Nubian stopped and -waited till Gervase came up with him. - -"Madame la Princesse vous aime, Monsieur Gervase!" he said, with a -sarcastic grin. "Mais,--elle veut que l'Amour soit toujours -aveugle! oui, toujours! C'est le destin qui vous appelle,--il faut -soumettre! L'Amour sans yeux! oui!--en fin,--comme ca!" - -And before Gervase could utter a word of protest, or demand the -meaning of this strange proceeding, his arms was suddenly seized -and pinioned behind his back, his mouth gagged, and his eyes -blindfolded. - -"Maintenant," continued the Nubian. "Nous irons ensemble!" - -Choked and mad with rage, Gervase for a few moments struggled -furiously as well as he was able with his powerful captor. All -sorts of ideas surged in his brain: the Princess Ziska might, with -all her beauty and fascination, be nothing but the ruler of a band -of robbers and murderers--who could tell? Yet reason did not -wholly desert him in extremity, for even while he tried to fight -for his liberty he remembered that there was no good to be gained -out of taking him prisoner; he had neither money nor valuables-- -nothing which could excite the cupidity of even a starving -Bedouin. As this thought crossed his brain, he ceased his -struggles abruptly, and stood still, panting for breath, when -suddenly a sound of singing floated towards him: - - "Oh, for the pure cold heart of the Lotus-Lily! - A star above - Is its only love, - And one brief sigh of its scented breath - Is all it will ever know of Death! - Oh, for the passionless heart of the Lotus-Lily!" - -He listened, and all power of resistance ebbed slowly away from -him; he became perfectly passive--almost apathetic--and yielding -to the somewhat rough handling of his guide, allowed himself to be -urged with silent rapidity onward over the thick sand, till he -presently became conscious that he was leaving the fresh open air -and entering a building of some sort, for his feet pressed hard -earth and stone instead of sand. All at once he was forcibly -brought to a standstill, and a heavy rolling noise and clang, like -distant muttered thunder, resounded in his ears, followed by dead -silence. Then his arm was closely grasped again, and he was led -on, on and on, along what seemed to be an interminable distance, -for not a glimmer of light could be seen under the tight folds of -the bandage across his eyes. Presently the earth shook under him,- --some heavy substance was moved, and there was another booming -thunderous noise, accompanied by the falling of chains. - -"C'est l'escalier de Madame la Princesse!" said the Nubian. "Pres -de la chambre nuptiale! Descendez! Vite!" - -Down--down! Resistance was useless, even had he cared to resist, -for he felt as though twenty pairs of hands instead of one were -pushing him violently on all sides; down, still down he went, -dumb, blind and helpless, till at last he was allowed to stop and -breathe. His arms were released, the bandage was taken from his -eyes, the gag from his mouth--he was free! Free--yes! but where? -Thick darkness encompassed him; he stretched out his hands in the -murky atmosphere and felt nothing. - -"Ziska!" he cried. - -The name sprang up against the silence and struck out numberless -echoes, and with the echoes came a shuddering sigh, that was not -of them, whispering: - -"Charmazel!" - -Gervase heard it, and a deadly fear, born of the supernatural, -possessed him. - -"Ziska! Ziska!" he called again wildly. - -"Charmazel!" answered the penetrating unknown voice; and as it -thrilled upon the air like a sob of pain, a dim light began to -shine through the gloom, waveringly at first, then more steadily, -till it gradually spread wide, illuminating with a pale and -spectral light the place in which he found himself,--a place more -weird and wondrous than any mystic scene in dream-land. He -stumbled forward giddily, utterly bewildered, staring about him -like a man in delirium, and speechless with mingled horror and -amazement. He was alone--utterly alone in a vast square chamber, -the walls and roof of which were thickly patterned and glistening -with gold. Squares of gold were set in the very pavement on which -he trod, and at the furthest end of the chamber, a magnificent -sarcophagus of solid gold, encrusted with thousands upon thousands -of jewels, which were set upon it in marvellous and fantastic -devices, glittered and flashed with the hues of living fire. -Golden cups, golden vases, a golden suit of armor, bracelets and -chains of gold intermixed with gems, were heaped up against the -walls and scattered on the floor; and a round shield of ivory -inlaid with gold, together with a sword in a jewelled sheath, were -placed in an upright position against the head of the sarcophagus, -from whence all the spectral and mysterious light seemed to -emerge. With thickly beating heart and faltering pulses Gervase -still advanced, gazing half entranced, half terrified at the -extraordinary and sumptuous splendor surrounding him, muttering -almost unconsciously as he moved along: - -"A king's sepulchre,--a warrior's tomb! How came I here?--and why? -Is this a trysting-place for love as well as death?--and will she -come to me? ..." - -He recoiled suddenly with a violent start, for there, like a -strange Spirit of Evil risen from the ground, leaning against the -great gold sarcophagus, her exquisite form scarcely concealed by -the misty white of her draperies, her dark hair hanging like a -cloud over her shoulders, and her black eyes aflame with wrath, -menace and passion, stood the mysterious Ziska! - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - - -Stricken dumb with a ghastly supernatural terror which far -exceeded any ordinary sense of fear, he gazed at her, spellbound, -his blood freezing, his very limbs stiffening, for now--now she -looked like the picture he had painted of her; and Death--Death, -livid, tortured and horrible, stared at him skull-wise from the -transparent covering of her exquisitely tinted seeming-human -flesh. Larger and brighter and wilder grew her eyes as she fixed -them on him, and her voice rang through the silence with an -unearthly resonance as she spoke and said: - -"Welcome, my lover, to this abode of love! Welcome to these arms, -for whose embraces your covetous soul has thirsted unappeased! -Take all of me, for I am yours!--aye, so truly yours that you can -never escape me!--never separate from me--no! not through a -thousand thousand centuries! Life of my life! Soul of my soul! -Possess me, as I possess you!--for our two unrepenting spirits -form a dual flame in Hell which must burn on and on to all -eternity! Leap to my arms, master and lord,--king and conqueror! -Here, here!" and she smote her white arms against her whiter -bosom. "Take all your fill of burning wickedness--of cursed joy! -and then--sleep! as you have slept before, these many thousand -years!" - -Still mute and aghast he stared at her; his senses swam, his brain -reeled, and then slowly, like the lifting of a curtain on the last -scene of a dire tragedy, a lightning thought, a scorching memory, -sprang into his mind and overwhelmed him like a rolling wave that -brings death in its track. With a fierce oath he rushed towards -her, and seized her hands in his--hands cold as ice and clammy as -with the dews of the grave. - -"Ziska! Woman! Devil! Speak before you drive me to madness! What -passion moves you thus--what mystic fooling? Into what place have -I been decoyed at your bidding? Why am I brought hither? Speak, -speak!--or I shall murder you!" - -"Nay!" she said, and her slight swaying form dilated and grew till -she seemed to rise up from the very ground and to tower above him -like an enraged demon evoked from mist or flame. "You have done -that once! To murder me twice is beyond your power!" And as she -spoke her hands slipped from his like the hands of a corpse newly -dead. "Never again can you hurl forth my anguished soul unprepared -to the outer darkness of things invisible; never again! For I am -free!--free with an immortal freedom--free to work out repentance -or revenge,--even as Man is free to shape his course for good or -evil. He chooses evil; I choose revenge! What place is this, you -ask?" and with a majestic gliding motion she advanced a little and -pointed upward to the sparkling gold-patterned roof. "Above us, -the Great Pyramid lifts its summit to the stars; and here below,-- -here where you will presently lie, my lover and lord, asleep in -the delicate bosom of love--here..." - -She paused, and a low laugh broke from her lips; then she added -slowly and impressively: - -"Here is the tomb of Araxes!" - -As she spoke, a creeping sense of coldness and horror stole into -his veins like the approach of death,--the strange impressions he -had felt, the haunting and confusing memory he had always had of -her face and voice, the supernatural theories he had lately heard -discussed, all rushed at once upon his mind, and he uttered a loud -involuntary cry. - -"My God! What frenzy is this! A woman's vain trick!--a fool's mad -scheme! What is Araxes to me?--or I to Araxes?" - -"Everything!" replied Ziska, the vindictive demon light in her -eyes blazing with a truly frightful intensity. "Inasmuch as ye are -one and the same! The same dark soul of sin--unpurged, uncleansed -through ages of eternal fire! Sensualist! Voluptuary! Accursed -spirit of the man I loved, come forth from the present Seeming-of- -things! Come forth and cling to me! Cling!--for the whole forces -of a million universes shall not separate us! O Eternal Spirits of -the Dead!" and she lifted her ghostly white arms with a wild -gesture. "Rend ye the veil! Declare to the infidel and unbeliever -the truth of the life beyond death; the life wherein ye and I -dwell and work, clamoring for late justice!" - -Here she sprang forward and caught the arm of Gervase with all the -fierce eagerness of some ravenous bird of prey; and as she did so -he knew her grasp meant death. - -"Remember the days of old, Araxes! Look back, look back from the -present to the past, and remember the crimes that are still -unavenged! Remember the love sought and won!--remember the broken -heart!--remember the ruined life! Remember the triumphs of war!-- -the glories of conquest! Remember the lust of ambition!--the -treachery!--the slaughter!--the blasphemies against high Heaven! -Remember the night of the Feast of Osiris--the Feast of the Sun! -Remember how Ziska-Charmazel awaited her lover, singing alone for -joy, in blind faith and blinder love, his favorite song of the -Lotus-Lily! The moon was high, as it is now!--the stars glittered -above the Pyramids, as they glitter now!--in the palace there was -the sound of music and triumph and laughter, and a whisper on the -air of the fickle heart and changeful mood of Araxes; of another -face which charmed him, though less fair than that of Ziska- -Charmazel! Remember, remember!" and she clung closer and closer as -he staggered backward half suffocated by his own emotions and the -horror of her touch. "Remember the fierce word!--the quick and -murderous blow!--the plunge of the jewelled knife up to the hilt -in the passionate white bosom of Charmazel!--the lonely anguish in -which she died! Died,--but to live again and pursue her murderer!- --to track him down to his grave wherein the king strewed gold, and -devils strewed curses!--down, down to the end of all his glory and -conquest into the silence of yon gold-encrusted clay! And out of -silence again into sound and light and fire, ever pursuing, I have -followed--followed through a thousand phases of existence!--and I -will follow still through limitless space and endless time, till -the great Maker of this terrible wheel of life Himself shall say, -'Stop! Here ends even the law of vengeance!' Oh, for ten thousand -centuries more in which to work my passion and prove my wrong! All -the treasure of love despised!--all the hope of a life betrayed!-- -all the salvation of heaven denied! Tremble, Soul of Araxes!--for -hate is eternal, as love is eternal!--the veil is down, and Memory -stings!" - -She turned her face, now spectral and pallid as a waning moon, up -to him; her form grew thin and skeleton-like, while still -retaining the transparent outline of its beauty; and he realized -at last that no creature of flesh and blood was this that clung to -him, but some mysterious bodiless horror of the Supernatural, -unguessed at by the outer world of men! The dews of death stood -thick on his forehead; there was a straining agony at his heart, -and his breath came in quick convulsive gasps; but worse than his -physical torture was the overwhelming and convincing truth of the -actual existence of the Spiritual Universe, now so suddenly and -awfully revealed. What he had all his life denied was now declared -a certainty; where he had been deaf and blind, he now heard and -saw. Ziska! Ziska-Charmazel! In very truth he knew he remembered -her; in very truth he knew he had loved her; in very truth he knew -he had murdered her! But another still stranger truth was forcing -itself upon him now; and this was, that the old love of the old -old days was arising within him in all its strength once more, and -that he loved her still! Unreal and terrible as it seemed, it was -nevertheless a fact, that as he gazed upon her tortured face, her -beautiful anguished eyes, her phantom form, he felt that he would -give his own soul to rescue hers and lift her from the coils of -vengeance into love again! Her words awoke vibrating pulsations of -thought, long dormant in the innermost recesses of his spirit, -which, like so many dagger-thrusts, stabbed him with a myriad -recollections; and as a disguising cloak may fall from the figure -of a friend in a masquerade, so his present-seeming personality -dropped from him and no longer had any substance. He recognized -himself as Araxes--always the same Soul passing through a myriad -changes,--and all the links of his past and present were suddenly -welded together in one unbroken chain, stretching over thousands -of years, every link of which he was able to count, mark, and -recognize. By the dreadful light of that dumb comprehension which -flashes on all parting souls at the moment of dissolution, he -perceived at last that not the Body but the Spirit is the central -secret of life,--not deeds, but thoughts evolve creation. Death? -That was a name merely; there was no death,--only a change into -some other form of existence. What change--what form would be his -now? This thought startled him--roused him,--and once again the -low spirit-voice of his long-ago betrayed and murdered love -thrilled in his ears: - -"Soul of Araxes, cling to my soul!--for this present life is -swiftly passing! No more scorn of the Divine can stand whither we -are speeding, for the Terrible and Eternal Truth overshadows us -and our destinies! Closed are the gates of Heaven,--open wide are -the portals of Hell! Enter with me, my lover Araxes!--die as I -died, unprepared and alone! Die, and pass out into new life again- --such life as mine--such torture as mine--such despair as mine-- -such hate as mine! ..." - -She ceased abruptly, for he, convinced now of the certainty of -Immortality, was suddenly moved to a strange access of courage and -resolution. Something sweet and subtle stirred in him,--a sense of -power,--a hint of joy, which completely overcame all dread of -death. Old love revived, grew stronger in his soul, and his gaze -rested on the shadowy form beside him, no longer with horror but -with tenderness. She was Ziska-Charmazel,--she had been his love-- -the dearest portion of his life--once in the far-off time; she had -been the fairest of women--and more than fair, she had been -faithful! Yes, he remembered that, as he remembered Her! Every -curve in her beautiful body had been a joy for him alone; and for -him alone her lips, sweet and fresh as rosebuds, had kept their -kisses. She had loved him as few women have either heart or -strength to love, and he had rewarded her fidelity by death and -eternal torment! A struggling cry escaped him, and he stretched -out his arms: - -"Ziska! Forgive--forgive!" - -As he uttered the words, he saw her wan face suddenly change,--all -the terror and torture passed from it like a passing cloud,-- -beautiful as an angel's, it smiled upon him,--the eyes softened -and flashed with love, the lips trembled, the spectral form glowed -with a living luminance, and a mystic Glory glittered above the -dusky hair! Filled with ecstasy at the sight of her wondrous -loveliness, he felt nothing of the coldness of death at his -heart,--a divine passion inspired him, and with the last effort of -his failing strength he strove to gather all the spirit-like -beauty of her being into his embrace. - -"Love--Love!" he cried. "Not Hate, but Love! Come back out of the -darkness, soul of the woman I wronged! Forgive me! Come back to -me! Hell or Heaven, what matters it if we are together! Come to -me,--come! Love is stronger than Hate!" - -Speech failed him; the cold agony of death gripped at his heart -and struck him mute, but still he saw the beautiful passionate -eyes of a forgiving Love turned gloriously upon him like stars in -the black chaos whither he now seemed rushing. Then came a solemn -surging sound as of great wings beating on a tempestuous air, and -all the light in the tomb was suddenly extinguished. One instant -more he stood upright in the thick darkness; then a burning knife -seemed plunged into his breast, and he reeled forward and fell, -his last hold on life being the consciousness that soft arms were -clasping him and drawing him away--away--he knew not whither--and -that warm lips, sweet and tender, were closely pressed on his. And -presently, out of the heavy gloom came a Voice which said: - -"Peace! The old gods are best, and the law is made perfect. A life -demands a life. Love's debt must be paid by Love! The woman's soul -forgives; the man's repents,--wherefore they are both released -from bondage and the memory of sin. Let them go hence, the curse -is lifted!" - -* * * * - -Once more the wavering ghostly light gave luminance to the -splendor of the tomb, and showed where, fallen sideways among the -golden treasures and mementoes of the past, lay the dead body of -Armand Gervase. Above him gleamed the great jewelled sarcophagus; -and within touch of his passive hand was the ivory shield and -gold-hilted sword of Araxes. The spectral radiance gleamed, -wandered and flitted over all things,--now feebly, now -brilliantly,--till finally flashing with a pale glare on the dark -dead face, with the proud closed lips and black level brows, it -flickered out; and one of the many countless mysteries of the -Great Pyramid was again hidden in impenetrable darkness. - -* * * * - -Vainly Denzil Marray waited next morning for his rival to appear. -He paced up and down impatiently, watching the rosy hues of -sunrise spreading over the wide desert and lighting up the massive -features of the Sphinx, till as hour after hour passed and still -Gervase did not come, he hurried back to the Mena House Hotel, and -meeting Dr. Maxwell Dean on the way, to him poured out his rage -and perplexity. - -"I never thought Gervase was a coward!" he said hotly. - -"Nor should you think so now," returned the Doctor, with a grave -and preoccupied air. "Whatever his faults, cowardice was not one -of them. You see, I speak of him in the past tense. I told you -your intended duel would not come off, and I was right. Denzil, I -don't think you will ever see either Armand Gervase or the -Princess Ziska again." - -Denzil started violently. - -"What do you mean? The Princess is here,--here in this very -house." - -"Is she?" and Dr. Dean sighed somewhat impatiently. "Well, let us -see!" Then, turning to a passing waiter, he inquired: "Is the -Princess Ziska here still?" - -"No, sir. She left quite suddenly late last night; going on to -Thebes, I believe, sir." - -The Doctor looked meaningly at Denzil. - -"You hear?" - -But Denzil in his turn was interrogating the waiter. - -"Is Mr. Gervase in his room?" - -"No, sir. He went out about ten o'clock yesterday evening, and I -don't think he is coming back. One of the Princess Ziska's -servants--the tall Nubian whom you may have noticed, sir--brought -a message from him to say that his luggage was to be sent to -Paris, and that the money for his bill would be found on his -dressing-table. It was all right, of course, but we thought it -rather curious." - -And glancing deferentially from one to the other of his -questioners with a smile, the waiter went on his way. - -"They have fled together!" said Denzil then, in choked accents of -fury. "By Heaven, if I had guessed the plan already formed in his -treacherous mind, I would never have shaken hands with Gervase -last night!" - -"Oh, you did shake hands?" queried Dr. Dean, meditatively. "Well, -there was no harm in that. You were right. You and Gervase will -meet no more in this life, believe me! He and the Princess Ziska -have undoubtedly, as you say, fled together--but not to Thebes!" - -He paused a moment, then laid his hand kindly on Denzil's -shoulder. - -"Let us go back to Cairo, my boy, and from thence as soon as -possible to England. We shall all be better away from this -terrible land, where the dead have far more power than the -living!" - -Denzil stared at him uncomprehendingly. - -"You talk in riddles!" he said, irritably. "Do you think I shall -let Gervase escape me? I will track him wherever he has gone,--I -daresay I shall find him in Paris." - -Dr. Dean took one or two slow turns up and down the corridor where -they were conversing, then stopping abruptly, looked his young -friend full and steadily in the eyes. - -"Come, come, Denzil. No more of this folly," he said, gently. "Why -should you entertain these ideas of vengeance against Gervase? He -has really done you no harm. He was the natural mate of the woman -you imagined you loved,--the response to her query,--the other -half of her being; and that she was and is his destiny, and he -hers, should not excite your envy or hatred. I say you IMAGINED -you loved the Princess Ziska,--it was a young man's hot freak of -passion for an almost matchless beauty, but no more than that. And -if you would be frank with yourself, you know that passion has -already cooled. I repeat, you will never see Gervase or the -Princess Ziska again in this life; so make the best of it." - -"Perhaps you have assisted him to escape me!" said Denzil -frigidly. - -Dr. Dean smiled. - -"That's rather a rough speech, Denzil! But never mind!" he -returned. "Your pride is wounded, and you are still sore. Suspect -me as you please,--make me out a new Pandarus, if you like--I -shall not be offended. But you know--for I have often told you-- -that I never interfere in love matters. They are too explosive, -too vitally dangerous; outsiders ought never to meddle with them. -And I never do. Come back with me to Cairo. And when we are once -more safely established on the solid and unromantic isles of -Britain, you will forget all about the Princess Ziska; or if you -do remember her, it will only be as a dream in the night, a kind -of vague shadow and uncertainty, which will never seriously -trouble your mind. You look incredulous. I tell you at your age -love is little more than a vision; you must wait a few years yet -before it becomes a reality, and then Heaven help you, Denzil!-- -for you will be a troublesome fellow to deal with! Meanwhile, let -us get back to Cairo and see Helen." - -Somewhat soothed by the Doctor's good-nature, and a trifle ashamed -of his wrath, Denzil yielded, and the evening saw them both back -at the Gezireh Palace Hotel, where of course the news of the -sudden disappearance of Armand Gervase with the Princess Ziska -created the utmost excitement. Helen Murray shivered and grew pale -as death when she heard it; lively old Lady Fulkeward simpered and -giggled, and declared it was "the most delightful thing she had -ever heard of!"--an elopement in the desert was "so exquisitely -romantic!" Sir Chetwynd Lyle wrote a conventional and stilted -account of it for his paper, and ponderously opined that the -immorality of Frenchmen was absolutely beyond any decent -journalist's powers of description. Lady Chetwynd Lyle, on the -contrary, said that the "scandal" was not the fault of Gervase; it -was all "that horrid woman," who had thrown herself at his head. -Ross Courtney thought the whole thing was "queer;" and young Lord -Fulkeward said there was something about it he didn't quite -understand,--something "deep," which his aristocratic quality of -intelligence could not fathom. And society talked and gossiped -till Paris and London caught the rumor, and the name of the famous -French artist, who had so strangely vanished from the scene of his -triumphs with a beautiful woman whom no one had ever heard of -before, was soon in everybody's mouth. No trace of him or of the -Princess Ziska could be discovered; his portmanteau contained no -letters or papers,--nothing but a few clothes; his paint-box and -easel were sent on to his deserted studio in Paris, and also a -blank square of canvas, on which, as Dr. Dean and others knew, had -once been the curiously-horrible portrait of the Princess. But -that appalling "first sketch" was wiped out and clean gone as -though it had never been painted, and Dr. Dean called Denzil's -attention to the fact. But Denzil thought nothing of it, as he -imagined that Gervase himself had obliterated it before leaving -Cairo. - -A few of the curious among the gossips went to see the house the -Princess had lately occupied, where she had "received" society and -managed to shock it as well. It was shut up, and looked as if it -had not been inhabited for years. And the gossips said it was -"strange, very strange!" and confessed themselves utterly -mystified. But the fact remained that Gervase had disappeared and -the Princess Ziska with him. "However," said Society, "they can't -possibly hide themselves for long. Two such remarkable -personalities are bound to appear again somewhere. I daresay we -shall come across them in Paris or on the Riviera. The world is -much too small for the holding of a secret." - -And presently, with the approach of spring, and the gradual break- -up of the Cairo "season," Denzil Murray and his sister sailed from -Alexandria en route for Venice. Dr. Dean accompanied them; so did -the Fulkewards and Ross Courtney. The Chetwynd-Lyles went by a -different steamer, "old" Lady Fulkeward being quite too much for -the patience of those sweet but still unengaged "girls" Muriel and -Dolly. One night when the great ship was speeding swiftly over a -calm sea, and Denzil, lost in sorrowful meditation, was gazing out -over the trackless ocean with pained and passionate eyes which -could see nothing but the witching and exquisite beauty of the -Princess Ziska, now possessed and enjoyed by Gervase, Dr. Dean -touched him on the arm and said: - -"Denzil, have you ever read Shakespeare?" - -Denzil started and forced a smile. - -"Why, yes, of course!" - -"Then you know the lines-- - - 'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are -dreamt of in your philosophy?' - -The Princess Ziska was one of those 'things.'" - -Denzil regarded him in wonderment. - -"What do you mean?" - -"Oh, of course, you will think me insane," said the Doctor, -resignedly. "People always take refuge in thinking that those who -tell them uncomfortable truths are lunatics. You've heard me talk -of ghosts?--ghosts that walk and move about us like human beings?- --and they are generally very brilliant and clever impersonations -of humanity, too--and that nevertheless are NOT human?" - -Denzil assented. - -"The Princess Ziska was a ghost!" concluded the Doctor, folding -his arms very tightly across his chest and nodding defiantly. - -"Nonsense!" cried Denzil. "You are mad!" - -"Precisely the remark I thought you would make!" and Dr. Dean -unfolded his arms again and smiled triumphantly. "Therefore, my -dear boy, let us for the future avoid this subject. I know what I -know; I can distinguish phantoms from reality, and I am not -deceived by appearances. But the world prefers ignorance to -knowledge, and even so let it be. Next time I meet a ghost I'll -keep my own counsel!" He paused a moment,--then added: "You -remember I told you I was hunting down that warrior of old time, -Araxes?" - -Denzil nodded, a trifle impatiently. - -"Well," resumed the Doctor slowly,--"Before we left Egypt I found -him! But how I found him, and where, is my secret!" - -Society still speaks occasionally of Armand Gervase, and wonders -in its feeble way when he will be "tired" of the Egyptian beauty -he ran away with, or she of him. Society never thinks very far or -cares very much for anything long, but it does certainly expect to -see the once famous French artist "turn up" suddenly, either in -his old quarters in Paris, or in one or the other of the -fashionable resorts of the Riviera. That he should be dead has -never occurred to anyone, except perhaps Dr. Maxwell Dean. But Dr. -Dean has grown extremely reticent--almost surly; and never answers -any questions concerning his Scientific Theory of Ghosts, a work -which, when published, created a great deal of excitement, owing -to its singularity and novelty of treatment. There was the usual -"hee-hawing" from the donkeys in the literary pasture, who fondly -imagined their brayings deserved to be considered in the light of -serious opinion;--and then after a while the book fell into the -hands of scientists only,--men who are beginning to understand the -discretion of silence, and to hold their tongues as closely as the -Egyptian priests of old did, aware that the great majority of men -are never ripe for knowledge. Quite lately Dr. Dean attended two -weddings,--one being that of "old" Lady Fulkeward, who has married -a very pretty young fellow of five-and-twenty, whose dearest -consideration in life is the shape of his shirt-collar; the other, -that of Denzil Murray, who has wedded the perfectly well-born, -well-bred and virtuous, if somewhat cold-blooded, daughter of his -next-door neighbor in the Highlands. Concerning his Egyptian -experience he never speaks,--he lives the ordinary life of the -Scottish land-owner, looking after his tenantry, considering the -crops, preserving the game, and clearing fallen timber;--and if -the glowing face of the beautiful Ziska ever floats before his -memory, it is only in a vague dream from which he quickly rouses -himself with a troubled sigh. His sister Helen has never married. -Lord Fulkeward proposed to her but was gently rejected, whereupon -the disconsolate young nobleman took a journey to the States and -married the daughter of a millionaire oil-merchant instead. Sir -Chetwynd Lyle and his pig-faced spouse still thrive and grow fat -on the proceeds of the Daily Dial, and there is faint hope that -one of their "girls" will wed an aspiring journalist,--a bold -adventurer who wants "a share in the paper" somehow, even if he -has to marry Muriel or Dolly in order to get it. Ross Courtney is -the only man of the party once assembled at the Gezireh Palace -Hotel who still goes to Cairo every winter, fascinated thither by -an annually recurring dim notion that he may "discover traces" of -the lost Armand Gervase and the Princess Ziska. And he frequently -accompanies the numerous sight-seers who season after season drive -from Cairo to the Pyramids, and take pleasure in staring at the -Sphinx with all the impertinence common to pigmies when -contemplating greatness. But more riddles than that of the Sphinx -are lost in the depths of the sandy desert; and more unsolved -problems lie in the recesses of the past than even the restless -and inquiring spirit of modern times will ever discover;--and if -it should ever chance that in days to come, the secret of the -movable floor of the Great Pyramid should be found, and the lost -treasures of Egypt brought to light, there will probably be much -discussion and marvel concerning the Golden Tomb of Araxes. For -the hieroglyphs on the jewelled sarcophagus speak of him thus and -say:-- - -"Araxes was a Man of Might, far exceeding in Strength and Beauty -the common sons of men. Great in War, Invincible in Love, he did -Excel in Deeds of Courage and of Conquest,--and for whatsoever -Sins he did in the secret Weakness of humanity commit, the Gods -must judge him. But in all that may befit a Warrior, Amenhotep The -King doth give him honor,--and to the Spirits of Darkness and of -Light his Soul is here commended to its Rest." - -Thus much of the fierce dead hero of old time,--but of the -mouldering corpse that lies on the golden floor of the same tomb, -its skeleton hand touching, almost grasping, the sword of Araxes, -what shall be said? Nothing--since the Old and the New, the Past -and the Present, are but as one moment in the countings of -eternity, and even with a late repentance Love pardons all. - - - - -FINIS. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Ziska, by Marie Corelli - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ZISKA *** - -This file should be named ziska10.txt or ziska10.zip -Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, ziska11.txt -VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, ziska10a.txt - -Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. - -Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US -unless a copyright notice is included. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: Ziska - The Problem of a Wicked Soul - -Author: Marie Corelli - -Posting Date: June 4, 2012 [EBook #5079] -Release Date: February, 2004 -First Posted: April 17, 2002 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ZISKA *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. - - - - - - - - - -ZISKA - -THE PROBLEM OF A WICKED SOUL - -BY - -MARIE CORELLI - - - - -Other Books by the same Author - -THE SORROWS OF SATAN BARABBAS A ROMANCE OF TWO WORLDS THE MIGHTY ATOM, -ETC., ETC. - - - - - - -TO THE PRESENT LIVING RE-INCARNATION OF ARAXES - - - - - - -ZISKA. - -THE PROBLEM OF A WICKED SOUL. - - - - -PROLOGUE. - - -Dark against the sky towered the Great Pyramid, and over its apex hung -the moon. Like a wreck cast ashore by some titanic storm, the Sphinx, -reposing amid the undulating waves of grayish sand surrounding it, -seemed for once to drowse. Its solemn visage that had impassively -watched ages come and go, empires rise and fall, and generations of men -live and die, appeared for the moment to have lost its usual expression -of speculative wisdom and intense disdain--its cold eyes seemed to -droop, its stern mouth almost smiled. The air was calm and sultry; and -not a human foot disturbed the silence. But towards midnight a Voice -suddenly arose as it were like a wind in the desert, crying aloud: -"Araxes! Araxes!" and wailing past, sank with a profound echo into the -deep recesses of the vast Egyptian tomb. Moonlight and the Hour wove -their own mystery; the mystery of a Shadow and a Shape that flitted out -like a thin vapor from the very portals of Death's ancient temple, and -drifting forward a few paces resolved itself into the visionary -fairness of a Woman's form--a Woman whose dark hair fell about her -heavily, like the black remnants of a long-buried corpse's wrappings; a -Woman whose eyes flashed with an unholy fire as she lifted her face to -the white moon and waved her ghostly arms upon the air. And again the -wild Voice pulsated through the stillness. - - "Araxes! ... Araxes! Thou art here, - --and I pursue thee! Through life into - death; through death out into life again! - I find thee and I follow! I follow! - Araxes!..." - -Moonlight and the Hour wove their own mystery; and ere the pale opal -dawn flushed the sky with hues of rose and amber the Shadow had -vanished; the Voice was heard no more. Slowly the sun lifted the edge -of its golden shield above the horizon, and the great Sphinx awaking -from its apparent brief slumber, stared in expressive and eternal scorn -across the tracts of sand and tufted palm-trees towards the glittering -dome of El-Hazar--that abode of profound sanctity and learning, where -men still knelt and worshipped, praying the Unknown to deliver them -from the Unseen. And one would almost have deemed that the sculptured -Monster with the enigmatical Woman-face and Lion-form had strange -thoughts in its huge granite brain; for when the full day sprang in -glory over the desert and illumined its large features with a burning -saffron radiance, its cruel lips still smiled as though yearning to -speak and propound the terrible riddle of old time; the Problem which -killed! - - - - -CHAPTER I. - - -It was the full "season" in Cairo. The ubiquitous Britisher and the no -less ubiquitous American had planted their differing "society" -standards on the sandy soil watered by the Nile, and were busily -engaged in the work of reducing the city, formerly called Al Kahira or -The Victorious, to a more deplorable condition of subjection and -slavery than any old-world conqueror could ever have done. For the -heavy yoke of modern fashion has been flung on the neck of Al Kahira, -and the irresistible, tyrannic dominion of "swagger" vulgarity has laid -The Victorious low. The swarthy children of the desert might, and -possibly would, be ready and willing to go forth and fight men with -men's weapons for the freedom to live and die unmolested in their own -native land; but against the blandly-smiling, white-helmeted, -sun-spectacled, perspiring horde of Cook's "cheap trippers," what can -they do save remain inert and well-nigh speechless? For nothing like -the cheap tripper was ever seen in the world till our present -enlightened and glorious day of progress; he is a new-grafted type of -nomad, like and yet unlike a man. The Darwin theory asserts itself -proudly and prominently in bristles of truth all over him--in his -restlessness, his ape-like agility and curiosity, his shameless -inquisitiveness, his careful cleansing of himself from foreign fleas, -his general attention to minutiae, and his always voracious appetite; -and where the ape ends and the man begins is somewhat difficult to -discover. The "image of God" wherewith he, together with his fellows, -was originally supposed to be impressed in the first fresh days of -Creation, seems fairly blotted out, for there is no touch of the Divine -in his mortal composition. Nor does the second created phase-the copy -of the Divineo--namely, the Heroic,--dignify his form or ennoble his -countenance. There is nothing of the heroic in the wandering biped who -swings through the streets of Cairo in white flannels, laughing at the -staid composure of the Arabs, flicking thumb and finger at the patient -noses of the small hireable donkeys and other beasts of burden, -thrusting a warm red face of inquiry into the shadowy recesses of -odoriferous bazaars, and sauntering at evening in the Esbekiyeh -Gardens, cigar in mouth and hands in pockets, looking on the scene and -behaving in it as if the whole place were but a reflex of Earl's Court -Exhibition. History affects the cheap tripper not at all; he regards -the Pyramids as "good building" merely, and the inscrutable Sphinx -itself as a fine target for empty soda-water bottles, while perhaps his -chiefest regret is that the granite whereof the ancient monster is hewn -is too hard for him to inscribe his distinguished name thereon. It is -true that there is a punishment inflicted on any person or persons -attempting such wanton work--a fine or the bastinado; yet neither fine -nor bastinado would affect the "tripper" if he could only succeed in -carving "'Arry" on the Sphinx's jaw. But he cannot, and herein is his -own misery. Otherwise he comports himself in Egypt as he does at -Margate, with no more thought, reflection, or reverence than dignify -the composition of his far-off Simian ancestor. - -Taking him all in all, he is, however, no worse, and in some respects -better, than the "swagger" folk who "do" Egypt, or rather, consent in a -languid way to be "done" by Egypt. These are the people who annually -leave England on the plea of being unable to stand the cheery, frosty, -and in every respect healthy winter of their native country--that -winter, which with its wild winds, its sparkling frost and snow, its -holly trees bright with scarlet berries, its merry hunters galloping -over field and moor during daylight hours, and its great log fires -roaring up the chimneys at evening, was sufficiently good for their -forefathers to thrive upon and live through contentedly up to a hale -and hearty old age in the times when the fever of travelling from place -to place was an unknown disease, and home was indeed "sweet home." -Infected by strange maladies of the blood and nerves, to which even -scientific physicians find it hard to give suitable names, they shudder -at the first whiff of cold, and filling huge trunks with a thousand -foolish things which have, through luxurious habit, become necessities -to their pallid existences, they hastily depart to the Land of the Sun, -carrying with them their nameless languors, discontents and incurable -illnesses, for which Heaven itself, much less Egypt, could provide no -remedy. It is not at all to be wondered at that these physically and -morally sick tribes of human kind have ceased to give any serious -attention as to what may possibly become of them after death, or -whether there IS any "after," for they are in the mentally comatose -condition which precedes entire wreckage of brain-force; existence -itself has become a "bore;" one place is like another, and they repeat -the same monotonous round of living in every spot where they -congregate, whether it be east, west, north, or south. On the Riviera -they find little to do except meet at Rumpelmayer's at Cannes, the -London House at Nice, or the Casino at Monte-Carlo; and in Cairo they -inaugurate a miniature London "season" over again, worked in the same -groove of dinners, dances, drives, picnics, flirtations, and -matrimonial engagements. But the Cairene season has perhaps some -advantage over the London one so far as this particular set of -"swagger" folk are concerned--it is less hampered by the proprieties. -One can be more "free," you know! You may take a little walk into "Old" -Cairo, and turning a corner you may catch glimpses of what Mark Twain -calls "Oriental simplicity," namely, picturesquely-composed groups of -"dear delightful" Arabs whose clothing is no more than primitive custom -makes strictly necessary. These kind of "tableaux vivants" or "art -studies" give quite a thrill of novelty to Cairene-English Society,--a -touch of savagery,--a soupcon of peculiarity which is entirely lacking -to fashionable London. Then, it must be remembered that the "children -of the desert" have been led by gentle degrees to understand that for -harboring the strange locusts imported into their land by Cook, and the -still stranger specimens of unclassified insect called Upper Ten, which -imports itself, they will receive "backsheesh." - -"Backsheesh" is a certain source of comfort to all nations, and -translates itself with sweetest euphony into all languages, and the -desert-born tribes have justice on their side when they demand as much -of it as they can get, rightfully or wrongfully. They deserve to gain -some sort of advantage out of the odd-looking swarms of Western -invaders who amaze them by their dress and affront them by their -manners. "Backsheesh," therefore, has become the perpetual cry of the -Desert-Born,--it is the only means of offence and defence left to them, -and very naturally they cling to it with fervor and resolution. And who -shall blame them? The tall, majestic, meditative Arab--superb as mere -man, and standing naked-footed on his sandy native soil, with his one -rough garment flung round his loins and his great black eyes fronting, -eagle-like, the sun--merits something considerable for condescending to -act as guide and servant to the Western moneyed civilian who clothes -his lower limbs in straight, funnel-like cloth casings, shaped to the -strict resemblance of an elephant's legs, and finishes the graceful -design by enclosing the rest of his body in a stiff shirt wherein he -can scarcely move, and a square-cut coat which divides him neatly in -twain by a line immediately above the knee, with the effect of -lessening his height by several inches. The Desert-Born surveys him -gravely and in civil compassion, sometimes with a muttered prayer -against the hideousness of him, but on the whole with patience and -equanimity,--influenced by considerations of "backsheesh." And the -English "season" whirls lightly and vaporously, like blown egg-froth, -over the mystic land of the old gods,--the terrible land filled with -dark secrets as yet unexplored,--the land "shadowing with wings," as -the Bible hath it,--the land in which are buried tremendous histories -as yet unguessed,--profound enigmas of the supernatural,--labyrinths of -wonder, terror and mystery,--all of which remain unrevealed to the -giddy-pated, dancing, dining, gabbling throng of the fashionable -travelling lunatics of the day,--the people who "never think because it -is too much trouble," people whose one idea is to journey from hotel to -hotel and compare notes with their acquaintances afterwards as to which -house provided them with the best-cooked food. For it is a noticeable -fact that with most visitors to the "show" places of Europe and the -East, food, bedding and selfish personal comfort are the first -considerations,--the scenery and the associations come last. Formerly -the position was reversed. In the days when there were no railways, and -the immortal Byron wrote his Childe Harold, it was customary to rate -personal inconvenience lightly; the beautiful or historic scene was the -attraction for the traveller, and not the arrangements made for his -special form of digestive apparatus. Byron could sleep on the deck of a -sailing vessel wrapped in his cloak and feel none the worse for it; his -well-braced mind and aspiring spirit soared above all bodily -discomforts; his thoughts were engrossed with the mighty teachings of -time; he was able to lose himself in glorious reveries on the lessons -of the past and the possibilities of the future; the attitude of the -inspired Thinker as well as Poet was his, and a crust of bread and -cheese served him as sufficiently on his journeyings among the then -unspoilt valleys and mountains of Switzerland as the warm, greasy, -indigestible fare of the elaborate table-d'hotes at Lucerne and -Interlaken serve us now. But we, in our "superior" condition, pooh-pooh -the Byronic spirit of indifference to events and scorn of trifles,--we -say it is "melodramatic," completely forgetting that our attitude -towards ourselves and things in general is one of most pitiable bathos. -We cannot write Childe Harold, but we can grumble at both bed and board -in every hotel under the sun; we can discover teasing midges in the air -and questionable insects in the rooms; and we can discuss each bill -presented to us with an industrious persistence which nearly drives -landlords frantic and ourselves as well. In these kind of important -matters we are indeed "superior" to Byron and other ranting dreamers of -his type, but we produce no Childe Harolds, and we have come to the -strange pass of pretending that Don Juan is improper, while we pore -over Zola with avidity! To such a pitch has our culture brought us! -And, like the Pharisee in the Testament, we thank God we are not as -others are. We are glad we are not as the Arab, as the African, as the -Hindoo; we are proud of our elephant-legs and our dividing coat-line; -these things show we are civilized, and that God approves of us more -than any other type of creature ever created. We take possession of -nations, not by thunder of war, but by clatter of dinner-plates. We do -not raise armies, we build hotels; and we settle ourselves in Egypt as -we do at Homburg, to dress and dine and sleep and sniff contempt on all -things but ourselves, to such an extent that we have actually got into -the habit of calling the natives of the places we usurp "foreigners." -WE are the foreigners; but somehow we never can see it. Wherever we -condescend to build hotels, that spot we consider ours. We are -surprised at the impertinence of Frankfort people who presume to visit -Homburg while we are having our "season" there; we wonder how they dare -do it! And, of a truth, they seem amazed at their own boldness, and -creep shyly through the Kur-Garten as though fearing to be turned out -by the custodians. The same thing occurs in Egypt; we are frequently -astounded at what we call "the impertinence of these foreigners," i.e. -the natives. They ought to be proud to have us and our elephant-legs; -glad to see such noble and beautiful types of civilization as the stout -parvenu with his pendant paunch, and his family of gawky youths and -maidens of the large-toothed, long-limbed genus; glad to see the -English "mamma," who never grows old, but wears young hair in innocent -curls, and has her wrinkles annually "massaged" out by a Paris artiste -in complexion. The Desert-Born, we say, should be happy and grateful to -see such sights, and not demand so much "backsheesh." In fact, the -Desert-Born should not get so much in our way as he does; he is a very -good servant, of course, but as a man and a brother--pooh! Egypt may be -his country, and he may love it as much as we love England; but our -feelings are more to be considered than his, and there is no connecting -link of human sympathy between Elephant-Legs and sun-browned Nudity! - -So at least thought Sir Chetwynd Lyle, a stout gentleman of coarse -build and coarser physiognomy, as he sat in a deep arm-chair in the -great hall or lounge of the Gezireh Palace Hotel, smoking after dinner -in the company of two or three acquaintances with whom he had -fraternized during his stay in Cairo. Sir Chetwynd was fond of airing -his opinions for the benefit of as many people who cared to listen to -him, and Sir Chetwynd had some right to his opinions, inasmuch as he -was the editor and proprietor of a large London newspaper. His -knighthood was quite a recent distinction, and nobody knew exactly how -he had managed to get it. He had originally been known in Fleet Street -by the irreverent sobriquet of "greasy Chetwynd," owing to his -largeness, oiliness and general air of blandly-meaningless benevolence. -He had a wife and two daughters, and one of his objects in wintering at -Cairo was to get his cherished children married. It was time, for the -bloom was slightly off the fair girl-roses,--the dainty petals of the -delicate buds were beginning to wither. And Sir Chetwynd had heard much -of Cairo; he understood that there was a great deal of liberty allowed -there between men and maids,--that they went out together on driving -excursions to the Pyramids, that they rode on lilliputian donkeys over -the sand at moonlight, that they floated about in boats at evening on -the Nile, and that, in short, there were more opportunities of marriage -among the "flesh-pots of Egypt" than in all the rush and crush of -London. So here he was, portly and comfortable, and on the whole well -satisfied with his expedition; there were a good many eligible -bachelors about, and Muriel and Dolly were really doing their best. So -was their mother, Lady Chetwynd Lyle; she allowed no "eligible" to -escape her hawk-like observation, and on this particular evening she -was in all her glory, for there was to be a costume ball at the Gezireh -Palace Hotel,--a superb affair, organized by the proprietors for the -amusement of their paying guests, who certainly paid well,--even -stiffly. Owing to the preparations that were going on for this -festivity, the lounge, with its sumptuous Egyptian decorations and -luxurious modern fittings, was well-nigh deserted save for Sir Chetwynd -and his particular group of friends, to whom he was holding forth, -between slow cigar-puffs, on the squalor of the Arabs, the frightful -thievery of the Sheiks, the incompetency of his own special dragoman, -and the mistake people made in thinking the Egyptians themselves a fine -race. - -"They are tall, certainly," said Sir Chetwynd, surveying his paunch, -which lolled comfortably, and as it were by itself, in front of him, -like a kind of waistcoated air-balloon. "I grant you they are tall. -That is, the majority of them are. But I have seen short men among -them. The Khedive is not taller than I am. And the Egyptian face is -very deceptive. The features are often fine,--occasionally -classic,--but intelligent expression is totally lacking." - -Here Sir Chetwynd waved his cigar descriptively, as though he would -fain suggest that a heavy jaw, a fat nose with a pimple at the end, and -a gross mouth with black teeth inside it, which were special points in -his own physiognomy, went further to make up "intelligent expression" -than any well-moulded, straight, Eastern type of sun-browned -countenance ever seen or imagined. - -"Well, I don't quite agree with you there," said a man who was lying -full length on one of the divans close by and smoking. "These brown -chaps have deuced fine eyes. There doesn't seem to be any lack of -expression in them. And that reminds me, there is at fellow arrived -here to-day who looks for all the world like an Egyptian, of the best -form. He is a Frenchman, though; a Provencal,--every one knows him,--he -is the famous painter, Armand Gervase." - -"Indeed!"--and Sir Chetwynd roused himself at the name--"Armand -Gervase! THE Armand Gervase?" - -"The only one original," laughed the other. "He's come here to make -studies of Eastern women. A rare old time he'll have among them, I -daresay! He's not famous for character. He ought to paint the Princess -Ziska." - -"Ah, by-the-bye, I wanted to ask you about that lady. Does anyone know -who she is? My wife is very anxious to find out whether she -is--well--er--quite the proper person, you know! When one has young -girls, one cannot be too careful." - -Ross Courtney, the man on the divan, got up slowly and stretched his -long athletic limbs with a lazy enjoyment in the action. He was a -sporting person with unhampered means and large estates in Scotland and -Ireland; he lived a joyous, "don't-care" life of wandering about the -world in search of adventures, and he had a scorn of civilized -conventionalities--newspapers and their editors among them. And -whenever Sir Chetwynd spoke of his "young girls" he was moved to -irreverent smiling, as he knew the youngest of the twain was at least -thirty. He also recognized and avoided the wily traps and pitfalls set -for him by Lady Chetwynd Lyle in the hope that he would yield himself -up a captive to the charms of Muriel or Dolly; and as he thought of -these two fair ones now and involuntarily compared them in his mind -with the other woman just spoken of, the smile that had begun to hover -on his lips deepened unconsciously till his handsome face was quite -illumined with its mirth. - -"Upon my word, I don't think it matters who anybody is in Cairo!" he -said with a fine carelessness. "The people whose families are all -guaranteed respectable are more lax in their behavior than the people -one knows nothing about. As for the Princess Ziska, her extraordinary -beauty and intelligence would give her the entree anywhere--even if she -hadn't money to back those qualities up." - -"She's enormously wealthy, I hear," said young Lord Fulkeward, another -of the languid smokers, caressing his scarcely perceptible moustache. -"My mother thinks she is a divorcee." - -Sir Chetwynd looked very serious, and shook his fat head solemnly. - -"Well, there is nothing remarkable in being divorced, you know," -laughed Ross Courtney. "Nowadays it seems the natural and fitting end -of marriage." - -Sir Chetwynd looked graver still. He refused to be drawn into this kind -of flippant conversation. He, at any rate, was respectably married; he -had no sympathy whatever with the larger majority of people whose -marriages were a failure. - -"There is no Prince Ziska then?" he inquired. "The name sounds to me of -Russian origin, and I imagined--my wife also imagined,--that the -husband of the lady might very easily be in Russia while his wife's -health might necessitate her wintering in Egypt. The Russian winter -climate is inclement, I believe." - -"That would be a very neat arrangement," yawned Lord Fulkeward. "But my -mother thinks not. My mother thinks there is not a husband at -all,--that there never was a husband. In fact my mother has very strong -convictions on the subject. But my mother intends to visit her all the -same." - -"She does? Lady Fulkeward has decided on that? Oh, well, in THAT -case!"--and Sir Chetwynd expanded his lower-chest air-balloon. "Of -course, Lady Chetwynd Lyle can no longer have any scruples on the -subject. If Lady Fulkeward visits the Princess there can be no doubt as -to her actual STATUS." - -"Oh, I don't know!" murmured Lord Fulkeward, stroking his downy lip. -"You see my mother's rather an exceptional person. When the governor -was alive she hardly ever went out anywhere, you know, and all the -people who came to our house in Yorkshire had to bring their pedigrees -with them, so to speak. It was beastly dull! But now my mother has -taken to 'studying character,' don'cher know; she likes all sorts of -people about her, and the more mixed they are the more she is delighted -with them. Fact, I assure you! Quite a change has come over my mother -since the poor old governor died!" - -Ross Courtney looked amused. A change indeed had come over Lady -Fulkeward--a change, sudden, mysterious and amazing to many of her -former distinguished friends with "pedigrees." In her husband's -lifetime her hair had been a soft silver-gray; her face pale, refined -and serious; her form full and matronly; her step sober and discreet; -but two years after the death of the kindly and noble old lord who had -cherished her as the apple of his eye and up to the last moment of his -breath had thought her the most beautiful woman in England, she -appeared with golden tresses, a peach-bloom complexion, and a figure -which had been so massaged, rubbed, pressed and artistically corseted -as to appear positively sylph-like. She danced like a fairy, she who -had once been called "old" Lady Fulkeward; she smoked cigarettes; she -laughed like a child at every trivial thing--any joke, however stale, -flat and unprofitable, was sufficient to stir her light pulses to -merriment; and she flirted--oh, heavens!--HOW she flirted!--with a -skill and a grace and a knowledge and an aplomb that nearly drove -Muriel and Dolly Chetwynd Lyle frantic. They, poor things, were beaten -out of the field altogether by her superior tact and art of "fence," -and they hated her accordingly and called her in private a "horrid old -woman," which perhaps, when her maid undressed her, she was. But she -was having a distinctly "good time" in Cairo; she called her son, who -was in delicate health, "my poor dear little boy!" and he, though -twenty-eight on his last birthday, was reduced to such an abject -condition of servitude by her assertiveness, impudent gayety and -general freedom of manner, that he could not open his mouth without -alluding to "my mother," and using "my mother" as a peg whereon to hang -all his own opinions and emotions as well as the opinions and emotions -of other people. - -"Lady Fulkeward admires the Princess very much, I believe?" said -another lounger who had not yet spoken. - -"Oh, as to that!"--and Lord Fulkeward roused himself to some faint show -of energy. "Who wouldn't admire her? By Jove! Only, I tell you -what--there's something I weird about her eyes. Fact! I don't like her -eyes." - -"Shut up, Fulke! She has beautiful eyes!" burst out Courtney, hotly; -then flushing suddenly he bit his lips and was silent. - -"Who is this that has beautiful eyes?" suddenly demanded a slow, gruff -voice, and a little thin gentleman, dressed in a kind of academic gown -and cap, appeared on the scene. - -"Hullo! here's our F.R.S.A.!" exclaimed Lord Fulkeward. "By Jove! Is -that the style you have got yourself up in for tonight? It looks -awfully smart, don'cher know!" - -The personage thus complimented adjusted his spectacles and surveyed -his acquaintances with a very well-satisfied air. In truth, Dr. Maxwell -Dean had some reason for self-satisfaction, if the knowledge that he -possessed one of the cleverest heads in Europe could give a man cause -for pride. He was apparently the only individual in the Gezireh Palace -Hotel who had come to Egypt for any serious purpose. A purpose he had, -though what it was he declined to explain. Reticent, often brusque, and -sometimes mysterious in his manner of speech, there was not the -slightest doubt that he was at work on something, and that he also had -a very trying habit of closely studying every object, small or great, -that came under his observation. He studied the natives to such an -extent that he knew every differing shade of color in their skins; he -studied Sir Chetwynd Lyle and knew that he occasionally took bribes to -"put things" into his paper; he studied Dolly and Muriel Chetwynd Lyle, -and knew that they would never succeed in getting husbands; he studied -Lady Fulkeward, and thought her very well got up for sixty; he studied -Ross Courtney, and knew he would never do anything but kill animals all -his life; and he studied the working of the Gezireh Palace Hotel, and -saw a fortune rising out of it for the proprietors. But apart from -these ordinary surface things, he studied other matters--"occult" -peculiarities of temperament, "coincidences," strange occurrences -generally. He could read the Egyptian hieroglyphs perfectly, and he -understood the difference between "royal cartouche" scarabei and -Birmingham-manufactured ones. He was never dull; he had plenty to do; -and he took everything as it came in its turn. Even the costume ball -for which he had now attired himself did not present itself to him as a -"bore," but as a new vein of information, opening to him fresh glimpses -of the genus homo as seen in a state of eccentricity. - -"I think," he now said, complacently, "that the cap and gown look well -for a man of my years. It is a simple garb, but cool, convenient and -not unbecoming. I had thought at first of adopting the dress of an -ancient Egyptian priest, but I find it difficult to secure the complete -outfit. I would never wear a costume of the kind that was not in every -point historically correct." - -No one smiled. No one would have dared to smile at Dr. Maxwell Dean -when he spoke of "historically correct" things. He had studied them as -he had studied everything, and he knew all about them. - -Sir Chetwynd murmured: - -"Quite right--er--the ancient designs were very elaborate--" - -"And symbolic," finished Dr. Dean. "Symbolic of very curious meanings, -I assure you. But I fear I have interrupted your talk. Mr. Courtney was -speaking about somebody's beautiful eyes; who is the fair one in -question?" - -"The Princess Ziska," said Lord Fulkeward. "I was saying that I don't -quite like the look of her eyes." - -"Why not? Why not?" demanded the doctor with sudden asperity. "What's -the matter with them?" - -"Everything's the matter with them!" replied Ross Courtney with a -forced laugh. "They are too splendid and wild for Fulke; he likes the -English pale-blue better than the Egyptian gazelle-black." - -"No, I don't," said Lord Fulkeward, speaking more animatedly than was -customary with him. "I hate, pale-blue eyes. I prefer soft violet-gray -ones, like Miss Murray's." - -"Miss Helen Murray is a very charming young lady," said Dr. Dean. "But -her beauty is quite of an ordinary type, while that of the Princess -Ziska--" - -"Is EXTRA-ordinary--exactly! That's just what I say!" declared -Courtney. "I think she is the loveliest woman I have ever seen." - -There was a pause, during which the little doctor looked with a -ferret-like curiosity from one man to the other. Sir Chetwynd Lyle rose -ponderously up from the depths of his arm-chair. - -"I think," said he, "I had better go and get into my uniform--the -Windsor, you know! I always have it with me wherever I go; it comes in -very useful for fancy balls such as the one we are going to have -tonight, when no particular period is observed in costume. Isn't it -about time we all got ready?" - -"Upon my life, I think it is!" agreed Lord Fulkeward. "I am coming out -as a Neapolitan fisherman! I don't believe Neapolitan fishermen ever -really dress in the way I'm going to make up, but it's the accepted -stage-type, don'cher know." - -"Ah! I daresay you will look very well in it," murmured Ross Courtney, -vaguely. "Hullo! here comes Denzil Murray!" - -They all turned instinctively to watch the entrance of a handsome young -man, attired in the picturesque garb worn by Florentine nobles during -the prosperous reign of the Medicis. It was a costume admirably adapted -to the wearer, who, being grave and almost stern of feature, needed the -brightness of jewels and the gloss of velvet and satin to throw out the -classic contour of his fine head and enhance the lustre of his -brooding, darkly-passionate eyes. Denzil Murray was a pure-blooded -Highlander,--the level brows, the firm lips, the straight, fearless -look, all bespoke him a son of the heather-crowned mountains and a -descendant of the proud races that scorned the "Sassenach," and -retained sufficient of the material whereof their early Phoenician -ancestors were made to be capable of both the extremes of hate and love -in their most potent forms. He moved slowly towards the group of men -awaiting his approach with a reserved air of something like hauteur; it -was possible he was conscious of his good looks, but it was equally -evident that he did not desire to be made the object of impertinent -remark. His friends silently recognized this, and only Lord Fulkeward, -moved to a mild transport of admiration, ventured to comment on his -appearance. - -"I say, Denzil, you're awfully well got up! Awfully well! Magnificent!" - -Denzil Murray bowed with a somewhat wearied and sarcastic air. - -"When one is in Rome, or Egypt, one must do as Rome, or Egypt, does," -he said, carelessly. "If hotel proprietors will give fancy balls, it is -necessary to rise to the occasion. You look very well, Doctor. Why -don't you other fellows go and get your toggeries on? It's past ten -o'clock, and the Princess Ziska will be here by eleven." - -"There are other people coming besides the Princess Ziska, are there -not, Mr. Murray?" inquired Sir Chetwynd Lyle, with an obtrusively -bantering air. - -Denzil Murray glanced him over disdainfully. - -"I believe there are," he answered coolly. "Otherwise the ball would -scarcely pay its expenses. But as the Princess is admittedly the most -beautiful woman in Cairo this season, she will naturally be the centre -of attraction. That's why I mentioned she would be here at eleven." - -"She told you that?" inquired Ross Courtney. - -"She did." - -Courtney looked up, then down, and seemed about to speak again, but -checked himself and finally strolled off, followed by Lord Fulkeward. - -"I hear," said Dr. Dean then, addressing Denzil Murray, "that a great -celebrity has arrived at this hotel--the painter, Armand Gervase." - -Denzil's face brightened instantly with a pleasant smile. - -"The dearest friend I have in the world!" he said. "Yes, he is here. I -met him outside the door this afternoon. We are very old chums. I have -stayed with him in Paris, and he has stayed with me in Scotland. A -charming fellow! He is very French in his ideas; but he knows England -well, and speaks English perfectly." - -"French in his ideas!" echoed Sir Chetwynd Lyle, who was just preparing -to leave the lounge. "Dear me! How is that?" - -"He is a Frenchman," said Dr. Dean, suavely. "Therefore that his ideas -should be French ought not to be a matter of surprise to us, my dear -Sir Chetwynd." - -Sir Chetwynd snorted. He had a suspicion that he--the editor and -proprietor of the Daily Dial--was being laughed at, and he at once -clambered on his high horse of British Morality. - -"Frenchman or no Frenchman," he observed, "the ideas promulgated in -France at the present day are distinctly profane and pernicious. There -is a lack of principle--a want of rectitude in--er--the French Press, -for example, that is highly deplorable." - -"And is the English Press immaculate?" asked Denzil languidly. - -"We hope so," replied Sir Chetwynd. "We do our best to make it so." - -And with that remark he took his paunch and himself away into -retirement, leaving Dr. Dean and young Murray facing each other, a -singular pair enough in the contrast of their appearance and -dress,--the one small, lean and wiry, in plain-cut, loose-flowing -academic gown; the other tall, broad and muscular, clad in the rich -attire of mediaeval Florence, and looking for all the world like a fine -picture of that period stepped out from, its frame. There was a silence -between them for a moment,--then the Doctor spoke in a low tone: - -"It won't do, my dear boy,--I assure you it won't do! You will break -your heart over a dream, and make yourself miserable for nothing. And -you will break your sister's heart as well; perhaps you haven't thought -of that?" - -Denzil flung himself into the chair Sir Chetwynd had just vacated, and -gave vent to a sigh that was almost a groan. - -"Helen doesn't know anything--yet," he said hoarsely. "I know nothing -myself; how can I? I haven't said a word to--to HER. If I spoke all -that was in my mind, I daresay she would laugh at me. You are the only -one who has guessed my secret. You saw me last night when I--when I -accompanied her home. But I never passed her palace gates,--she -wouldn't let me. She bade me 'good-night' outside; a servant admitted -her, and she vanished through the portal like a witch or a ghost. -Sometimes I fancy she IS a ghost. She is so white, so light, so -noiseless and so lovely!" - -He turned his eyes away, ashamed of the emotion that moved him. Dr. -Maxwell Dean took off his academic cap and examined its interior as -though he considered it remarkable. - -"Yes," he said slowly; "I have thought the same thing of her -myself--sometimes." - -Further conversation was interrupted by the entrance of the military -band of the evening, which now crossed the "lounge," each man carrying -his instrument with him; and these were followed by several groups of -people in fancy dress, all ready and eager for the ball. Pierrots and -Pierrettes, monks in drooping cowls, flower-girls, water-carriers, -symbolic figures of "Night" and "Morning," mingled with the counterfeit -presentments of dead-and-gone kings and queens, began to flock -together, laughing and talking on their way to the ball-room; and -presently among them came a man whose superior height and build, -combined with his eminently picturesque, half-savage type of beauty, -caused every one to turn and watch him as he passed, and murmur -whispering comments on the various qualities wherein he differed from -themselves. He was attired for the occasion as a Bedouin chief, and his -fierce black eyes, and close-curling, dark hair, combined with the -natural olive tint of his complexion, were well set off by the snowy -folds of his turban and the whiteness of his entire costume, which was -unrelieved by any color save at the waist, where a gleam of scarlet was -shown in the sash which helped to fasten a murderous-looking dagger and -other "correct" weapons of attack to his belt. He entered the hall with -a swift and singularly light step, and made straight for Denzil Murray. - -"Ah! here you are!" he said, speaking English with a slight foreign -accent, which was more agreeable to the ear than otherwise. "But, my -excellent boy, what magnificence! A Medici costume! Never say to me -that you are not vain; you are as conscious of your good looks as any -pretty woman. Behold me, how simple and unobtrusive I am!" - -He laughed, and Murray sprang up from the chair where he had been -despondently reclining. - -"Oh, come, I like that!" he exclaimed. "Simple and unobtrusive! Why -everybody is staring at you now as if you had dropped from the moon! -You cannot be Armand Gervase and simple and unobtrusive at the same -time!" - -"Why not?" demanded Gervase, lightly. "Fame is capricious, and her -trumpet is not loud enough to be heard all over the world at once. The -venerable proprietor of the dirty bazaar where I managed to purchase -these charming articles of Bedouin costume had never heard of me in his -life. Miserable man! He does not know what he has missed!" - -Here his flashing black eyes lit suddenly on Dr. Dean, who was -"studying" him in the same sort of pertinacious way in which that -learned little man studied everything. - -"A friend of yours, Denzil?" he inquired. - -"Yes," responded Murray readily; "a very great friend--Dr. Maxwell -Dean. Dr. Dean, let me introduce to you Armand Gervase; I need not -explain him further!" - -"You need not, indeed!" said the doctor, with a ceremonious bow. "The -name is one of universal celebrity." - -"It is not always an advantage--this universal celebrity," replied -Gervase. "Nor is it true that any celebrity is actually universal. -Perhaps the only living person that is universally known, by name at -least, is Zola. Mankind are at one in their appreciation of vice." - -"I cannot altogether agree with you there," said Dr. Dean slowly, -keeping his gaze fixed on the artist's bold, proud features with -singular curiosity. "The French Academy, I presume, are individually as -appreciative of human weaknesses as most men; but taken collectively, -some spirit higher and stronger than their own keeps them unanimous in -their rejection of the notorious Realist who sacrifices all the canons -of art and beauty to the discussion of topics unmentionable in decent -society." - -Gervase laughed idly. - -"Oh, he will get in some day, you may be sure," he answered. "There is -no spirit higher and stronger than the spirit of naturalism in man; and -in time, when a few prejudices have died away and mawkish sentiment has -been worn threadbare, Zola will be enrolled as the first of the French -Academicians, with even more honors than if he had succeeded in the -beginning. That is the way of all those 'select' bodies. As Napoleon -said, 'Le monde vient a celui qui sait attendre.'" - -The little Doctor's countenance now showed the most lively and eager -interest. - -"You quite believe that, Monsieur Gervase? You are entirely sure of -what you said just now?" - -"What did I say? I forget!" smiled Gervase, lighting a cigarette and -beginning to smoke it leisurely. - -"You said, 'There is no spirit higher or stronger than the spirit of -naturalism in man.' Are you positive on this point?" - -"Why, of course! Most entirely positive!" And the great painter looked -amused as he gave the reply. "Naturalism is Nature, or the things -appertaining to Nature, and there is nothing higher or stronger than -Nature everywhere and anywhere." - -"How about God?" inquired Dr. Dean with a curious air, as if he were -propounding a remarkable conundrum. - -"God!" Gervase laughed loudly. "Pardon! Are you a clergyman?" - -"By no means!" and the Doctor gave a little bow and deprecating smile. -"I am not in any way connected with the Church. I am a doctor of laws -and literature,--a humble student of philosophy and science -generally..." - -"Philosophy! Science!" interrupted Gervase. "And you ask about God! -Parbleu! Science and philosophy have progressed beyond Him!" - -"Exactly!" and Dr. Dean rubbed his hands together pleasantly. "That is -your opinion? Yes, I thought so! Science and philosophy, to put it -comprehensively, have beaten poor God on His own ground! Ha! ha! ha! -Very good--very good! And humorous as well! Ha! ha!" - -And a very droll appearance just then had this "humble student of -philosophy and science generally," for he bent himself to and fro with -laughter, and his small eyes almost disappeared behind his shelving -brows in the excess of his mirth. And two crosslines formed themselves -near his thin mouth--such lines as are carven on the ancient Greek -masks which indicate satire. - -Denzil Murray flushed uncomfortably. - -"Gervase doesn't believe in anything but Art," he said, as though half -apologizing for his friend: "Art is the sole object of his existence; I -don't believe he ever has time to think about anything else." - -"Of what else should I think, mon ami?" exclaimed Gervase mirthfully. -"Of life? It is all Art to me; and by Art I mean the idealization and -transfiguration of Nature." - -"Oh. if you do that sort of thing you are a romancist," interposed Dr. -Dean emphatically. "Nature neither idealizes nor transfigures itself; -it is simply Nature and no more. Matter uncontrolled by Spirit is -anything but ideal." - -"Precisely," answered Gervase quickly and with some warmth; "but my -spirit idealizes it,--my imagination sees beyond it,--my soul grasps -it." - -"Oh, you have a soul?" exclaimed Dr. Dean, beginning to laugh again. -"Now, how did you find that out?" - -Gervase looked at him in a sudden surprise. - -"Every man has an inward self, naturally," he said. "We call it 'soul' -as a figure of speech; it is really temperament merely." - -"Oh, it is merely temperament? Then you don't think it is likely to -outlive you, this soul--to take new phases upon itself and go on -existing, an immortal being, when your body is in a far worse condition -(because less carefully preserved) than an Egyptian mummy?" - -"Certainly not!" and Gervase flung away the end of his finished -cigarette. "The immortality of the soul is quite an exploded theory. It -was always a ridiculous one. We have quite enough to vex us in our -present life, and why men ever set about inventing another is more than -I am able to understand. It was a most foolish and barbaric -superstition." - -The gay sound of music now floated towards them from the -ball-room,--the strains of a graceful, joyous, half-commanding, -half-pleading waltz came rhythmically beating on the air like the -measured movement of wings,--and Denzil Murray, beginning to grow -restless, walked to and fro, his eyes watching every figure that -crossed and re-crossed the hall. But Dr. Dean's interest in Armand -Gervase remained intense and unabated; and approaching him, he laid two -lean fingers delicately on the white folds of the Bedouin dress just -where the heart of the man was hidden. - -"'A foolish and barbaric superstition!'" he echoed slowly and -meditatively. "You do not believe in any possibility of there being a -life--or several lives--after this present death through which we must -all pass inevitably, sooner or later?" - -"Not in the least! I leave such ideas to the ignorant and uneducated. I -should be unworthy of the progressive teachings of my time if I -believed such arrant nonsense." - -"Death, you consider, finishes all? There is nothing further--no -mysteries beyond? ..." and Dr. Dean's eyes glittered as he stretched -forth one thin, slight hand and pointed into space with the word -"beyond," an action which gave it a curious emphasis, and for a -fleeting second left a weird impression on even the careless mind of -Gervase. But he laughed it off lightly. - -"Nothing beyond? Of course not! My dear sir, why ask such a question? -Nothing can be plainer or more positive than the fact that death, as -you say, finishes all." - -A woman's laugh, low and exquisitely musical, rippled on the air as he -spoke--delicious laughter, rarer than song; for women as a rule laugh -too loudly, and the sound of their merriment partakes more of the -nature of a goose's cackle than any other sort of natural melody. But -this large, soft and silvery, was like a delicately subdued cadence -played on a magic flute in the distance, and suggested nothing but -sweetness; and at the sound of it Gervase started violently and turned -sharply round upon his friend Murray with a look of wonderment and -perplexity. - -"Who is that?" he demanded. "I have heard that pretty laugh before; it -must be some one I know." - -But Denzil scarcely heard him. Pale, and with eyes full of yearning and -passion, he was watching the slow approach of a group of people in -fancy dress, who were all eagerly pressing round one central -figure--the figure of a woman clad in gleaming golden tissues and -veiled in the old Egyptian fashion up to the eyes, with jewels flashing -about her waist, bosom and hair,--a woman who moved glidingly as if she -floated rather than walked, and whose beauty, half hidden as it was by -the exigencies of the costume she had chosen, was so unusual and -brilliant that it seemed to create an atmosphere of bewilderment and -rapture around her as she came. She was preceded by a small Nubian boy -in a costume of vivid scarlet, who, walking backwards humbly, fanned -her slowly with a tall fan of peacock's plumes made after the quaint -designs of ancient Egypt. The lustre radiating from the peacock's -feathers, the light of her golden garments, her jewels and the -marvellous black splendor of her eyes, all flashed for a moment like -sudden lightning on Gervase; something--he knew not what--turned him -giddy and blind; hardly knowing what he did, he sprang eagerly forward, -when all at once he felt the lean, small hand of Dr. Dean on his arm -and stopped short embarrassed. - -"Pardon me!" said the little savant, with a delicate, half-supercilious -lifting of his eyebrows. "But--do you know the Princess Ziska?" - - - - -CHAPTER II. - - -Gervase stared at him, still dazzled and confused. - -"Whom did you say? ... the Princess Ziska? ... No, I don't know her ... -Yet, stay! Yes, I think I have seen her ... somewhere,--in Paris, -possibly. Will you introduce me?" - -"I leave that duty to Mr. Denzil Murray," said the Doctor, folding his -arms neatly behind his back ... "He knows her better than I do." - -And smiling his little grim, cynical smile, he settled his academic cap -more firmly on his head and strolled off towards the ballroom. Gervase -stood irresolute, his eyes fixed on that wondrous golden figure that -floated before his eyes like an aerial vision. Denzil Murray had gone -forward to meet the Princess and was now talking to her, his handsome -face radiating with the admiration he made no attempt to conceal. After -a little pause Gervase moved towards him a step or two, and caught part -of the conversation. - -"You look the very beau-ideal of an Egyptian Princess," Murray was -saying. "Your costume is perfect." - -She laughed. Again that sweet, rare laughter! Gervase thrilled with the -pulsation of it,--it beat in his ears and smote his brain with a -strange echo of familiarity. - -"Is it not?" she responded. "I am 'historically correct,' as your -friend Dr. Dean would say. My ornaments are genuine,--they all came out -of the same tomb." - -"I find one fault with your attire, Princess," said one of the male -admirers who had entered with her; "part of your face is veiled. That -is a cruelty to us all!" - -She waived the compliment aside with a light gesture. - -"It was the fashion in ancient Egypt," she said. "Love in those old -days was not what it is now,--one glance, one smile was sufficient to -set the soul on fire and draw another soul towards it to consume -together in the suddenly kindled flame! And women veiled their faces in -youth, lest they should be deemed too prodigal of their charms; and in -age they covered themselves still more closely, in order not to affront -the Sun-God's fairness by their wrinkles." She smiled, a dazzling smile -that drew Gervase yet a few steps closer unconsciously, as though he -were being magnetized. "But I am not bound to keep the veil always up," -and as she spoke she loosened it and let it fall, showing an exquisite -face, fair as a lily, and of such perfect loveliness that the men who -were gathered round her seemed to lose breath and speech at sight of -it. "That pleases you better, Mr. Murray?" - -Denzil grew very pale. Bending down he murmured something to her in a -low tone. She raised her lovely brows with a little touch of surprise -that was half disdain, and looked at him straightly. - -"You say very pretty things; but they do not always please me," she -observed. "However, that is my fault, no doubt." - -And she began to move onwards, her Nubian page preceding her as before. -Gervase stood in her path and confronted her as she came. - -"Introduce me," he said in a commanding tone to Denzil. - -Denzil looked at him, somewhat startled by the suppressed passion in -his voice. - -"Certainly. Princess, permit me!" She paused, a figure of silent grace -and attention. "Allow me to present to you my friend, Armand Gervase, -the most famous artist in France--Gervase, the Princess Ziska." - -She raised her deep, dark eyes and fixed them on his face, and as he -looked boldly at her in a kind of audacious admiration, he felt again -that strange dizzying shock which had before thrilled him through and -through. There was something strangely familiar about her; the faint -odors that seemed exhaled from her garments,--the gleam of the -jewel-winged scarabei on her breast,--the weird light of the -emerald-studded serpent in her hair; and more, much more familiar than -these trifles, was the sound of her voice--dulcet, penetrating, grave -and haunting in its tone. - -"At last we meet, Monsieur Armand Gervase!" she said slowly and with a -graceful inclination of her head. "But I cannot look upon you as a -stranger, for I have known you so long--in spirit!" - -She smiled--a strange smile, dazzling yet enigmatical--and something -wild and voluptuous seemed to stir in Gervase's pulses as he touched -the small hand, loaded with quaint Egyptian gems, which she graciously -extended towards him. - -"I think I have known you, too!" he said. "Possibly in a dream,--a -dream of beauty never realized till now!" - -His voice sank to an amorous whisper; but she said nothing in reply, -nor could her looks be construed into any expression of either pleasure -or offence. Yet through the heart of young Denzil Murray went a sudden -pang of jealousy, and for the first time in his life he became -conscious that even among men as well as women there may exist what is -called the "petty envy" of a possible rival, and the uneasy desire to -outshine such an one in all points of appearance, dress and manner. His -gaze rested broodingly on the tall, muscular form of Gervase, and he -noted the symmetry and supple grace of the man with an irritation of -which he was ashamed. He knew, despite his own undeniably handsome -personality, which was set off to such advantage that night by the -richness of the Florentine costume he had adopted, that there was a -certain fascination about Gervase which was inborn, a trick of manner -which made him seem picturesque at all times; and that even when the -great French artist had stayed with him in Scotland and got himself up -for the occasion in more or less baggy tweeds, people were fond of -remarking that the only man who ever succeeded in making tweeds look -artistic was Armand Gervase. And in the white Bedouin garb he now wore -he was seen at his best; a certain restless passion betrayed in eyes -and lips made him look the savage part he had "dressed" for, and as he -bent his head over the Princess Ziska's hand and kissed it with an odd -mingling of flippancy and reverence, Denzil suddenly began to think how -curiously alike they were, these two! Strong man and fair woman, both -had many physical points in common,--the same dark, level brows,--the -same half wild, half tender eyes,--the same sinuous grace of form,--the -same peculiar lightness of movement,--and yet both were different, -while resembling each other. It was not what is called a "family -likeness" which existed between them; it was the cast of countenance or -"type" that exists between races or tribes, and had young Murray not -known his friend Gervase to be a French Provencal and equally -understood the Princess Ziska to be of Russian origin, he would have -declared them both, natives of Egypt, of the purest caste and highest -breeding. He was so struck by this idea that he might have spoken his -thought aloud had he not heard Gervase boldly arranging dance after -dance with the Princess, and apparently preparing to write no name but -hers down the entire length of his ball programme,--a piece of audacity -which had the effect of rousing Denzil to assert his own rights. - -"You promised me the first waltz, Princess," he said, his face flushing -as he spoke. - -"Quite true! And you shall have it," she replied, smiling. "Monsieur -Gervase will have the second. The music sounds very inviting; shall we -not go in?" - -"We spoil the effect of your entree crowding about you like this," said -Denzil, glancing somewhat sullenly at Gervase and the other men -surrounding her; "and, by the way, you have never told us what -character you represent to-night; some great queen of old time, no -doubt?" - -"No, I lay no claim to sovereignty," she answered; "I am for to-night -the living picture of a once famous and very improper person who bore -half my name, a dancer of old time, known as 'Ziska-Charmazel,' the -favorite of the harem of a great Egyptian warrior, described in -forgotten histories as 'The Mighty Araxes.'" - -She paused; her admirers, fascinated by the sound of her voice, were -all silent. She fixed her eyes upon Gervase; and addressing him only, -continued: - -"Yes, I am 'Charmazel,'" she said. "She was, as I tell you, an -'improper' person, or would be so considered by the good English -people. Because, you know, she was never married to Araxes!" - -This explanation, given with the demurest naivete, caused a laugh among -her listeners. - -"That wouldn't make her 'improper' in France," said Gervase gayly. "She -would only seem more interesting." - -"Ah! Then modern France is like old Egypt?" she queried, still smiling. -"And Frenchmen can be found perhaps who are like Araxes in the number -of their loves and infidelities?" - -"I should say my country is populated entirely with copies of him," -replied Gervase, mirthfully. "Was he a very distinguished personage?" - -"He was. Old legends say he was the greatest warrior of his time; as -you, Monsieur Gervase, are the greatest artist." - -Gervase bowed. - -"You flatter me, fair Charmazel!" he said; then suddenly as the strange -name passed his lips he recoiled as if he had been stung, and seemed -for a moment dazed. The Princess turned her dark eyes on him -inquiringly. - -"Something troubles you, Monsieur Gervase?" she asked. - -His brows knitted in a perplexed frown. - -"Nothing ... the heat ... the air ... a trifle, I assure you? Will you -not join the dancers? Denzil, the music calls you. When your waltz with -the Princess is ended I shall claim my turn. For the moment ... au -revoir!" - -He stood aside and let the little group pass him by: the Princess Ziska -moving with her floating, noiseless grace, Denzil Murray beside her, -the little Nubian boy waving the peacock-plumes in front of them both, -and all the other enslaved admirers of this singularly attractive woman -crowding together behind. He watched the little cortege with strained, -dim sight, till just at the dividing portal between the lounge and the -ballroom the Princess turned and looked back at him with a smile. Over -all the intervening heads their eyes met in one flash of mutual -comprehension! then, as the fair face vanished like a light absorbed -into the lights beyond it, Gervase, left alone, dropped heavily into a -chair and stared vaguely at the elaborate pattern of the thick carpet -at his feet. Passing his hand across his forehead he withdrew it, wet -with drops of perspiration. - -"What is wrong with me?" he muttered. "Am I sickening for a fever -before I have been forty-eight hours in Cairo? What fool's notion is -this in my brain? Where have I seen her before? In Paris? St. -Petersburg? London? Charmazel! ... Charmazel! ... What has the name to -do with me? Ziska-Charmazel! It is like the name of a romance or a -gypsy tune. Bah! I must be dreaming! Her face, her eyes, are perfectly -familiar; where, where have I seen her and played the mad fool with her -before? Was she a model at one of the studios? Have I seen her by -chance thus in her days of poverty, and does her image recall itself -vividly now despite her changed surroundings? I know the very perfume -of her hair ... it seems to creep into my blood ... it intoxicates me -... it chokes me! ..." - -He sprang up with a fierce gesture, then after a minute's pause sat -down again, and again stared at the floor. - -The gay music from the ball-room danced towards him on the air in -sweet, broken echoes,--he heard nothing and saw nothing. - -"My God!" he said at last, under his breath. "Can it be possible that I -love this woman?" - - - - -CHAPTER III. - - -Within the ball-room the tide of gayety was rising to its height. It -may be a very trivial matter, yet it is certain that fancy dress gives -a peculiar charm, freedom, and brightness to festivities of the kind; -and men who in the ordinary mournful black evening-suit would be -taciturn of speech and conventional in bearing, throw off their -customary reserve when they find themselves in the brilliant and -becoming attire of some picturesque period when dress was an art as -well as a fashion; and not only do they look their best, but they -somehow manage to put on "manner" with costume, and to become -courteous, witty, and graceful to a degree that sometimes causes their -own relatives to wonder at them and speculate as to why they have grown -so suddenly interesting. Few have read Sartor Resartus with either -comprehension or profit, and are therefore unaware, as Teufelsdrockh -was, that "Society is founded upon Cloth"--i.e. that man does adapt his -manners very much to suit his clothes; and that as the costume of the -days of Louis Quinze or Louis Seize inspired graceful deportment and -studied courtesy to women, so does the costume of our nineteenth -century inspire brusque demeanor and curt forms of speech, which, -however sincere, are not flattering to the fair sex. - -More love-making goes on at a fancy-dress ball than at an ordinary one; -and numerous were the couples that strolled through the corridors and -along the terraces of the Gezireh Palace Hotel when, after the first -dozen dances were ended, it was discovered that one of the most -glorious of full moons had risen over the turrets and minarets of -Cairo, illumining every visible object with as clear a lustre as that -of day. Then it was that warriors and nobles of mediaeval days were -seen strolling with mythological goddesses and out-of-date peasants of -Italy and Spain; then audacious "toreadors" were perceived whispering -in the ears of crowned queens, and clowns were caught lingering -amorously by the side of impossible flower-girls of all nations. Then -it was that Sir Chetwynd Lyle, with his paunch discreetly restrained -within the limits of a Windsor uniform which had been made for him some -two or three years since, paced up and down complacently in the -moonlight, watching his two "girls," Muriel and Dolly, doing business -with certain "eligibles"; then it was that Lady Fulkeward, fearfully -and wonderfully got up as the "Duchess of Gainsborough" sidled to and -fro, flirted with this man, flouted that, giggled, shrugged her -shoulders, waved her fan, and comported herself altogether as if she -were a hoyden of seventeen just let loose from school for the holidays. -And then the worthy Dr. Maxwell Dean, somewhat exhausted by vigorous -capering in the "Lancers," strolled forth to inhale the air, fanning -himself with his cap as he walked, and listening keenly to every chance -word or sentence he could hear, whether it concerned himself or not. He -had peculiar theories, and one of them was, as he would tell you, that -if you overheard a remark apparently not intended for you, you were to -make yourself quite easy, as it was "a point of predestination" that -you should at that particular moment, consciously or unconsciously, -play the eavesdropper. The reason of it would, he always averred, be -explained to you later on in your career. The well-known saying -"listeners never hear any good of themselves" was, he declared, a most -ridiculous aphorism. "You overhear persons talking and you listen. Very -well. It may chance that you hear yourself abused. What then? Nothing -can be so good for you as such abuse; the instruction given is twofold; -it warns you against foes whom you have perhaps considered friends, and -it tones down any overweening conceit you may have had concerning your -own importance or ability. Listen to everything if you are wise--I -always do. I am an old and practised listener. And I have never -listened in vain. All the information I have gained through listening, -though apparently at first disconnected and unclassified, has fitted -into my work like the stray pieces of a puzzle, and has proved -eminently useful. Wherever I am I always keep my ears well open." - -With such views as he thus entertained, life was always enormously -interesting to Dr. Dean--he found nothing tiresome, not even the -conversation of the type known as Noodle. The Noodle was as curious a -specimen of nature to him as the emu or the crocodile. And as he turned -up his intellectual little physiognomy to the deep, warm Egyptian sky -and inhaled the air sniffingly, as though it were a monster -scent-bottle just uncorked for his special gratification, he smiled as -he observed Muriel Chetwynd Lyle standing entirely alone at the end of -the terrace, attired as a "Boulogne fish-wife," and looking daggers -after the hastily-retreating figure of a "White Hussar,"--no other than -Ross Courtney. - -"How extremely droll a 'Boulogne fish-wife' looks in Egypt," commented -the Doctor to his inward self. "Remarkable! The incongruity is -peculiarly typical of the Chetwynd Lyles. The costume of the young -woman is like the knighthood of her father,--droll, droll, very droll!" -Aloud he said--"Why are you not dancing, Miss Muriel?" - -"Oh, I don't know--I'm tired," she said, petulantly. "Besides, all the -men are after that Ziska woman,--they seem to have lost their heads -about her!" - -"Ah!" and Dr. Dean rubbed his hands. "Yes--possibly! Well, she is -certainly very beautiful." - -"I cannot see it!" and Muriel Chetwynd Lyle flushed with the inward -rage which could not be spoken. "It's the way she dresses more than her -looks. Nobody knows who she is--but they do not seem to care about -that. They are all raving like lunatics over her, and that man--that -artist who arrived here to-day, Armand Gervase,--seems the maddest of -the lot. Haven't you noticed how often he has danced with her?" - -"I couldn't help noticing that," said the Doctor, emphatically, "for I -have never seen anything more exquisite than the way they waltz -together. Physically, they seem made for one another." - -Muriel laughed disdainfully. - -"You had better tell Mr. Denzil Murray that; he is in a bad enough -humor now, and that remark of yours wouldn't improve it, I can tell -you!" - -She broke off abruptly, as a slim, fair girl, dressed as a Greek vestal -in white, with a chaplet of silver myrtle-leaves round her hair, -suddenly approached and touched Dr. Dean on the arm. - -"Can I speak to you a moment?" she asked. - -"My dear Miss Murray! Of course!" and the Doctor turned to her at once. -"What is it?" - -She paced with him a few steps in silence, while Muriel Chetwynd Lyle -moved languidly away from the terrace and re-entered the ball-room. - -"What is it?" repeated Dr. Dean. "You seem distressed; come, tell me -all about it!" - -Helen Murray lifted her eyes--the soft, violet-gray eyes that Lord -Fulkeward had said he admired--suffused with tears, and fixed them on -the old man's face. - -"I wish," she said--"I wish we had never come to Egypt! I feel as if -some great misfortune were going to happen to us; I do, indeed! Oh, Dr. -Dean, have you watched my brother this evening?" - -"I have," he replied, and then was silent. - -"And what do you think?" she asked anxiously. "How can you account for -his strangeness--his roughness--even to me?" - -And the tears brimmed over and fell, despite her efforts to restrain -them. Dr. Dean stopped in his walk and took her two hands in his own. - -"My dear Helen, it's no use worrying yourself like this," he said. -"Nothing can stop the progress of the Inevitable. I have watched -Denzil, I have watched the new arrival, Armand Gervase, I have watched -the mysterious Ziska, and I have watched you! Well, what is the result? -The Inevitable,--simply the unconquerable Inevitable. Denzil is in -love, Gervase is in love, everybody is in love, except me and one -other! It is a whole network of mischief, and I am the unhappy fly that -has unconsciously fallen into the very middle of it. But the spider, my -dear,--the spider who wove the web in the first instance,--is the -Princess Ziska, and she is NOT in love! She is the other one. She is -not in love with anybody any more than I am. She's got something else -on her mind--I don't know what it is exactly, but it isn't love. -Excluding her and myself, the whole hotel is in love--YOU are in love!" - -Helen withdrew her hands from his grasp and a deep flush reddened her -fair face. - -"I!" she stammered--"Dr. Dean, you are mistaken. ..." - -"Dr. Dean was never mistaken on love-matters in his life," said that -self-satisfied sage complacently. "Now, my dear, don't be offended. I -have known both you and your brother ever since you were left little -orphan children together; if I cannot speak plainly to you, who can? -You are in love, little Helen--and very unwisely, too--with the man -Gervase. I have heard of him often, but I never saw him before -to-night. And I don't approve of him." - -Helen grew as pale as she had been rosy, and her face as the moonlight -fell upon it was very sorrowful. - -"He stayed with us in Scotland two summers ago," she said softly. "He -was very agreeable..." - -"Ha! No doubt! He made a sort of love to you then, I suppose. I can -imagine him doing it very well! There is a nice romantic glen near your -house--just where the river runs, and where I caught a fifteen-pound -salmon some five years ago. Ha! Catching salmon is healthy work; much -better than falling in love. No, no, Helen! Gervase is not good enough -for you; you want a far better man. Has he spoken to you to-night?" - -"Oh, yes! And he has danced with me." - -"Ha! How often?" - -"Once." - -"And how many times with the Princess Ziska?" - -Helen's fair head drooped, and she answered nothing. All at once the -little Doctor's hand closed on her arm with a soft yet firm grip. - -"Look!" he whispered. - -She raised her eyes and saw two figures step out on the terrace and -stand in the full moonlight,--the white Bedouin dress of the one and -the glittering golden robe of the other made them easily -recognizable,--they were Gervase and the Princess Ziska. Helen gave a -faint, quick sigh. - -"Let us go in," she said. - -"Nonsense! Why should we go in? On the contrary, let us join them." - -"Oh, no!" and Helen shrank visibly at the very idea. "I cannot; do not -ask me! I have tried--you know I have tried--to like the Princess; but -something in her--I don't know what it is--repels me. To speak -truthfully, I think I am afraid of her." - -"Afraid! Pooh! Why should you be afraid? It is true one doesn't often -see a woman with the eyes of a vampire-bat; but there is nothing to be -frightened about. I have dissected the eyes of a vampire-bat--very -interesting work, very. The Princess has them--only, of course, hers -are larger and finer; but there is exactly the same expression in them. -I am fond of study, you know; I am studying her. What! Are you -determined to run away?" - -"I am engaged for this dance to Mr. Courtney," said Helen, nervously. - -"Well, well! We'll resume our conversation another time," and Dr. Dean -took her hand and patted it pleasantly. "Don't fret yourself about -Denzil; he'll be all right. And take my advice: don't marry a Bedouin -chief; marry an honest, straightforward, tender-hearted Englishman -who'll take care of you, not a nondescript savage who'll desert you!" - -And with a humorous and kindly smile, Dr. Dean moved off to join the -two motionless and picturesque figures that stood side by side looking -at the moon, while Helen, like a frightened bird suddenly released, -fled precipitately back to the ball-room, where Ross Courtney was -already searching for her as his partner in the next waltz. - -"Upon my word," mused the Doctor, "this is a very pretty kettle of -fish! The Gezireh Palace Hotel is not a hotel at all, it seems to me; -it is a lunatic asylum. What with Lady Fulkeward getting herself up as -twenty at the age of sixty; and Muriel and Dolly Chetwynd Lyle -man-hunting with more ferocity than sportsmen hunt tigers; Helen in -love, Denzil in love, Gervase in love--dear me! dear me! What a list of -subjects for a student's consideration! And the Princess Ziska ..." - -He broke off his meditations abruptly, vaguely impressed by the strange -solemnity of the night. An equal solemnity seemed to surround the two -figures to which he now drew nigh, and as the Princess Ziska turned her -eyes upon him as he came, he was, to his own vexation, aware that -something indefinable disturbed his usual equanimity and gave him an -unpleasant thrill. - -"You are enjoying a moonlight stroll, Doctor?" she inquired. - -Her veil was now cast aside in a careless fold of soft drapery over her -shoulders, and her face in its ethereal delicacy of feature and -brilliant coloring looked almost too beautiful to be human. Dr. Dean -did not reply for a moment; he was thinking what a singular resemblance -there was between Armand Gervase and one of the figures on a certain -Egyptian fresco in the British Museum. - -"Enjoying--er--er--a what?--a moonlight stroll? Exactly--er--yes! -Pardon me, Princess, my mind often wanders, and I am afraid I am -getting a little deaf as well. Yes, I find the night singularly -conducive to meditation; one cannot be in a land like this under a sky -like this"--and he pointed to the shining heaven--"without recalling -the great histories of the past." - -"I daresay they were very much like the histories of the present," said -Gervase smiling. - -"I should doubt that. History is what man makes it; and the character -of man in the early days of civilization was, I think, more forceful, -more earnest, more strong of purpose, more bent on great achievements." - -"The principal achievement and glory being to kill as many of one's -fellow-creatures as possible!" laughed Gervase--"Like the famous -warrior, Araxes, of whom the Princess has just been telling me!" - -"Araxes was great, but now Araxes is a forgotten hero," said the -Princess slowly, each accent of her dulcet voice chiming on the ear -like the stroke of a small silver bell. "None of the modern discoverers -know anything about him yet. They have not even found his tomb; but he -was buried in the Pyramids with all the honors of a king. No doubt your -clever men will excavate him some day." - -"I think the Pyramids have been very thoroughly explored," said Dr. -Dean. "Nothing of any importance remains in them now." - -The Princess arched her lovely eyebrows. - -"No? Ah! I daresay you know them better than I do!" and she laughed, a -laugh which was not mirthful so much as scornful. - -"I am very much interested in Araxes," said Gervase then, "partly, I -suppose, because he is as yet in the happy condition of being an -interred mummy. Nobody has dug him up, unwound his cerements, or -photographed him, and his ornaments have not been stolen. And in the -second place I am interested in him because it appears he was in love -with the famous dancer of his day whom the Princess represents -to-night,--Charmazel. I wish I had heard the story before I came to -Cairo; I would have got myself up as Araxes in person to-night." - -"In order to play the lover of Charmazel?" queried the Doctor. - -"Exactly!" replied Gervase with flashing eyes; "I daresay I could have -acted the part." - -"I should imagine you could act any part," replied the Doctor, blandly. -"The role of love-making comes easily to most men." - -The Princess looked at him as he spoke and smiled. The jewelled scarab, -set as a brooch on her bosom, flashed luridly in the moon, and in her -black eyes there was a similar lurid gleam. - -"Come and talk to me," she said, laying her hand on his arm; "I am -tired, and the conversation of one's ball-room partners is very banal. -Monsieur Gervase would like me to dance all night, I imagine; but I am -too lazy. I leave such energy to Lady Fulkeward and to all the English -misses and madams. I love indolence." - -"Most Russian women do, I think," observed the Doctor. - -She laughed. - -"But I am not Russian!" - -"I know. I never thought you were," he returned composedly; "but -everyone in the hotel has come to the conclusion that you are!" - -"They are all wrong! What can I do to put them right?" she inquired -with a fascinating little upward movement of her eyebrows. - -"Nothing! Leave them in their ignorance. I shall not enlighten them, -though I know your nationality." - -"You do?" and a curious shadow darkened her features. "But perhaps you -are wrong also!" - -"I think not," said the Doctor, with gentle obstinacy. "You are an -Egyptian. Born in Egypt; born OF Egypt. Pure Eastern! There is nothing -Western about you. Is not it so?" - -She looked at him enigmatically. - -"You have made a near guess," she replied; "but you are not absolutely -correct. Originally, I am of Egypt." - -Dr. Dean nodded pleasantly. - -"Originally,--yes. That is precisely what I mean--originally! Let me -take you in to supper." - -He offered his arm, but Gervase made a hasty step forward. - -"Princess," he began-- - -She waved him off lightly. - -"My dear Monsieur Gervase, we are not in the desert, where Bedouin -chiefs do just as they like. We are in a modern hotel in Cairo, and all -the good English mammas will be dreadfully shocked if I am seen too -much with you. I have danced with you five times, remember! And I will -dance with you once more before I leave. When our waltz begins, come -and find me in the upper-room." - -She moved away on Dr. Dean's arm, and Gervase moodily drew back and let -her pass. When she had gone, he lit a cigarette and walked impatiently -up and down the terrace, a heavy frown wrinkling his brows. The shadow -of a man suddenly darkened the moonlight in front of him, and Denzil -Murray's hand fell on his shoulder. - -"Gervase," he said, huskily, "I must speak to you." - -Gervase glanced him up and down, taking note of his pale face and wild -eyes with a certain good-humored regret and compassion. - -"Say on, my friend." - -Denzil looked straight at him, biting his lips hard and clenching his -hands in the effort to keep down some evidently violent emotion. - -"The Princess Ziska," he began,-- - -Gervase smiled, and flicked the ash off his cigarette. - -"The Princess Ziska," he echoed,--"Yes? What of her? She seems to be -the only person talked about in Cairo. Everybody in this hotel, at any -rate, begins conversation with precisely the same words as you -do,--'the Princess Ziska!' Upon my life, it is very amusing!" - -"It is not amusing to me," said Denzil, bitterly. "To me it is a matter -of life and death." He paused, and Gervase looked at him curiously. -"We've always been such good friends, Gervase," he continued, "that I -should be sorry if anything came between us now, so I think it is -better to make a clean breast of it and speak out plainly." Again he -hesitated, his face growing still paler, then with a sudden ardent -light glowing in his eyes he said--"Gervase, I love the Princess Ziska!" - -Gervase threw away his cigarette and laughed aloud with a wild hilarity. - -"My good boy, I am very sorry for you! Sorry, too, for myself! I -deplore the position in which we are placed with all my heart and soul. -It is unfortunate, but it seems inevitable. You love the Princess -Ziska,--and by all the gods of Egypt and Christendom, so do I!" - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - - -Denzil recoiled a step backward, then with an impulsive movement strode -close up to him, his face unnaturally flushed and his eyes glittering -with an evil fire. - -"You--you love her! What!--in one short hour, you--who have often -boasted to me of having no heart, no eyes for women except as models -for your canvas,--you say now that you love a woman whom you have never -seen before to-night!" - -"Stop!" returned Gervase somewhat moodily, "I am not so sure about -that. I HAVE seen her before, though where I cannot tell. But the fire -that stirs my pulses now seems to spring from some old passion suddenly -revived, and the eyes of the woman we are both mad for--well! they do -not inspire holiness, my dear friend! No,--neither in you nor in me! -Let us be honest with each other. There is something vile in the -composition of Madame la Princesse, and it responds to something -equally vile in ourselves. We shall be dragged down by the force of -it,--tant pis pour nous! I am sorrier for you than for myself, for you -are a good fellow, au fond; you have what the world is learning to -despise--sentiment. I have none; for as I told you before, I have no -heart, but I have passions--tigerish ones--which must be humored; in -fact, I make it my business in life to humor them." - -"Do you intend to humor them in this instance?" - -"Assuredly! If I can." - -"Then,--friend as you have been, you can be friend no more," said -Denzil fiercely. "My God! Do you not understand? My blood is as warm as -yours,--I will not yield to you one smile, one look from Ziska! No!--I -will kill you first!" - -Gervase looked at him calmly. - -"Will you? Pauvre garcon! You are such a boy still, -Denzil,--by-the-bye, how old are you? Ah, I remember now,--twenty-two. -Only twenty-two, and I am thirty-eight! So in the measure of time -alone, your life is more valuable to you than mine is to me. If you -choose, therefore, you can kill me,--now, if you like! I have a very -convenient dagger in my belt--I think it has a point--which you are -welcome to use for the purpose; but, for heaven's sake, don't rant -about it--do it! You can kill me--of course you can; but you -cannot--mark this well, Denzil!--you cannot prevent my loving the same -woman whom you love. I think instead of raving about the matter here in -the moonlight, which has the effect of making us look like two orthodox -villains in a set stage-scene, we'd better make the best of it, and -resolve to abide by the lady's choice in the matter. What say you? You -have known her for many days,--I have known her for two hours. You have -had the first innings, so you cannot complain." - -Here he playfully unfastened the Bedouin knife which hung at his belt -and offered it to Denzil, holding it delicately by the glittering blade. - -"One thrust, my brave boy!" he said. "And you will stop the Ziska fever -in my veins at once and forever. But, unless you deal the murderer's -blow, the fever will go on increasing till it reaches its extremest -height, and then ..." - -"And then?" echoed Denzil. - -"Then? Oh--God only knows what then!" - -Denzil thrust away the offered weapon with a movement of aversion. - -"You can jest," he said. "You are always jesting. But you do not -know--you cannot read the horrible thoughts in my mind. I cannot -resolve their meaning even to myself. There is some truth in your light -words; I feel, I know instinctively, that the woman I love has an -attraction about her which is not good, but evil; yet what does that -matter? Do not men sometimes love vile women?" - -"Always!" replied Gervase briefly. - -"Gervase, I have suffered tortures ever since I saw her face!" -exclaimed the unhappy lad, his self-control suddenly giving way. "You -cannot imagine what my life has been! Her eyes make me mad,--the merest -touch of her hand seems to drag me away invisibly ..." - -"To perdition!" finished Gervase. "That is the usual end of the journey -we men take with beautiful women." - -"And now," went on Denzil, hardly heeding him, "as if my own despair -were not sufficient, you must needs add to it! What evil fate, I -wonder, sent you to Cairo! Of course, I have no chance with her now; -you are sure to win the day. And can you wonder then that I feel as if -I could kill you?" - -"Oh, I wonder at nothing," said Gervase calmly, "except, perhaps, at -myself. And I echo your words most feelingly,--What evil fate sent me -to Cairo? I cannot tell! But here I purpose to remain. My dear Murray, -don't let us quarrel if we can help it; it is such a waste of time. I -am not angry with you for loving la belle Ziska,--try, therefore, not -to be angry with me. Let the fair one herself decide as to our merits. -My own opinion is that she cares for neither of us, and, moreover, that -she never will care for any one except her fascinating self. And -certainly her charms are quite enough to engross her whole attention. -By the way, let me ask you, Denzil, in this headstrong passion of -yours,--for it is a headstrong passion, just as mine is,--do you -actually intend to make the Ziska your wife if she will have you?" - -"Of course," replied Murray, with some haughtiness. - -A fleeting expression of amusement flitted over Gervase's features. - -"It is very honorable of you," he said, "very! My dear boy, you shall -have your full chance. Because I--I would not make the Princess Madame -Gervase for all the world! She is not formed for a life of -domesticity--and pardon me--I cannot picture her as the contented -chatelaine of your grand old Scotch castle in Ross-shire." - -"Why not?" - -"From an artistic point of view the idea is incongruous," said Gervase -lazily. "Nevertheless, I will not interfere with your wooing." - -Denzil's face brightened. - -"You will not?" - -"I will not--I promise! But"--and here Gervase paused, looking his -young friend full in the eyes, "remember, if your chance falls to the -ground--if Madame gives you your conge--if she does not consent to be a -Scottish chatelaine and listen every day to the bagpipes at -dinner,--you cannot expect me then to be indifferent to my own desires. -She shall not be Madame Gervase,--oh, no! She shall not be asked to -attend to the pot-au-feu; she shall act the role for which she has -dressed to-night; she shall be another Charmazel to another Araxes, -though the wild days of Egypt are no more!" - -A sudden shiver ran through him as he spoke, and instinctively he drew -the white folds of his picturesque garb closer about him. - -"There is a chill wind sweeping in from the desert," he said, "an evil, -sandy breath tasting of mummy-dust blown through the crevices of the -tombs of kings. Let us go in." - -Murray looked at him in a kind of dull despair. - -"And what is to be done?" he asked. "I cannot answer for -myself--and--from what you say, neither can you." - -"My dear friend--or foe--whichever you determine to be, I can answer -for myself in one particular at any rate, namely, that as I told you, I -shall not ask the Princess to marry me. You, on the contrary, will do -so. Bonne chance! I shall do nothing to prevent Madame from accepting -the honorable position you intend to offer her. And till the fiat has -gone forth and the fair one has decided, we will not fly at each -other's throats like wolves disputing possession of a lamb; we will -assume composure, even if we have it not." He paused, and laid one hand -kindly on the younger man's shoulder, "Is it agreed?" - -Denzil gave a mute sign of resigned acquiescence. - -"Good! I like you, Denzil; you are a charming boy! Hot-tempered and a -trifle melodramatic in your loves and hatreds,--yes!--for that you -might have been a Provencal instead of a Scot. Before I knew you I had -a vague idea that all Scotchmen were, or needs must be, ridiculous,--I -don't know why. I associated them with bagpipes, short petticoats and -whisky. I had no idea of the type you so well represent,--the dark, -fine eyes, the strong physique, and the impetuous disposition which -suggests the South rather than the North; and to-night you look so -unlike the accepted cafe chantant picture of the ever-dancing -Highlander that you might in very truth be a Florentine in more points -than the dress which so well becomes you. Yes,--I like you--and more -than you, I like your sister. That is why I don't want to quarrel with -you; I wouldn't grieve Mademoiselle Helen for the world." - -Murray gave him a quick, half-angry side-glance. - -"You are a strange fellow, Gervase. Two summers ago you were almost in -love with Helen." - -Gervase sighed. - -"True. Almost. That's just it. 'Almost' is a very uncomfortable word. I -have been almost in love so many times. I have never been drawn by a -woman's eyes and dragged down, down,--in a mad whirlpool of sweetness -and poison intermixed. I have never had my soul strangled by the coils -of a woman's hair--black hair, black as night,--in the perfumed meshes -of which a jewelled serpent gleams ... I have never felt the insidious -horror of a love like strong drink mounting through the blood to the -brain, and there making inextricable confusion of time, space, -eternity, everything, except the passion itself; never, never have I -felt all this, Denzil, till to-night! To-night! Bah! It is a wild night -of dancing and folly, and the Princess Ziska is to blame for it all! -Don't look so tragic, my good Denzil,--what ails you now?" - -"What ails me? Good Heavens! Can you ask it!" and Murray gave a gesture -of mingled despair and impatience. "If you love her in this wild, -uncontrolled way ..." - -"It is the only way I know of," said Gervase. "Love must be wild and -uncontrolled to save it from banalite. It must be a summer -thunderstorm; the heavy brooding of the clouds of thought, the -lightning of desire, then the crash, the downpour,--and the end, in -which the bland sun smiles upon a bland world of dull but wholesome -routine and tame conventionality, making believe that there never was -such a thing known as the past storm! Be consoled, Denzil, and trust -me,--you shall have time to make your honorable proposal, and Madame -had better accept you,--for your love would last,--mine could not!" - -He spoke with a strange fierceness and irritability, and his eyes were -darkened by a sudden shadow of melancholy. Denzil, bewildered at his -words and manner, stared at him in a kind of helpless indignation. - -"Then you admit yourself to be cruel and unprincipled?" he said. - -Gervase smiled, with a little shrug of impatience. - -"Do I? I was not aware of it. Is inconstancy to women cruelty and want -of principle? If so, all men must bear the brunt of the accusation with -me. For men were originally barbarians, and always looked upon women as -toys or slaves; the barbaric taint is not out of us yet, I assure -you,--at any rate, it is not out of me. I am a pure savage; I consider -the love of woman as my right; if I win it, I enjoy it as long as I -please, but no longer,--and not all the forces of heaven and earth -should bind me to any woman I had once grown weary of." - -"If that is your character," said Murray stiffly, "it were well the -Princess Ziska should know it." - -"True," and Gervase laughed loudly. "Tell her, man ami! Tell her that -Armand Gervase is an unprincipled villain, not worth a glance from her -dazzling eyes! It will be the way to make her adore me! My good boy, do -you not know that there is something very marvellous in the attraction -we call love? It is a pre-ordained destiny,--and if one soul is so -constituted that it must meet and mix with another, nothing can hinder -the operation. So that, believe me, I am quite indifferent as to what -you say of me to Madame la Princesse or to anyone else. It will not be -for either my looks or my character that she will love me if, indeed, -she ever does love me; it will be for something indistinct, indefinable -but resistless in us both, which no one on earth can explain. And now I -must go, Denzil, and claim the fair one for this waltz. Try and look -less miserable, my dear fellow,--I will not quarrel with you on the -Princess's account, nor on any other pretext if I can help it,--for I -don't want to kill you, and I am convinced your death and not mine -would be the result of a fight between us!" - -His eyes flashed under his straight, fierce brows with a sudden touch -of imperiousness, and his commanding presence became magnetic, almost -over-powering. Tormented with a dozen cross-currents of feeling, young -Denzil Murray was mute;--only his breath came and went quickly, and -there was a certain silently-declared antagonism in his very attitude. -Gervase saw it and smiled; then turning away with his peculiarly -noiseless step and grace of bearing, he disappeared. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - - -Ten minutes later the larger number of dancers in the ball-room came to -a sudden pause in their gyrations and stood looking on in open-mouthed, -reluctantly-admiring wonderment at the exquisite waltz movements of the -Princess Ziska as she floated past them in the arms of Gervase, who, as -a "Bedouin chief," was perhaps only acting his part aright when he held -her to him with so passionate and close a grip and gazed down upon her -fair face with such a burning ardor in his eyes. Nothing in the dancing -world was ever seen like the dancing of these two--nothing so -languorously beautiful as the swaying grace of their well-matched -figures gliding to the music in as perfectly harmonious a measure as a -bird's two wings beat to the pulsations of the air. People noticed that -as the Princess danced a tiny tinkling sound accompanied her every -step; and the more curious observers, peeping downwards as she flew by, -saw that she had kept to the details of ancient Egyptian costume so -exactly that she even wore sandals, and that her feet, perfectly shaped -and lovely as perfectly shaped and lovely hands, were bare save for the -sandal-ribbons which crossed them, and which were fastened with jewels. -Round the slim ankles were light bands of gold, also glittering with -gems, and furthermore adorned by little golden bells which produced the -pretty tinkling music that attracted attention. - -"What a delightful creature she is!" said Lady Fulkeward, settling her -"Duchess of Gainsborough" hat on her powdered wig more becomingly and -smiling up in the face of Ross Courtney, who happened to be standing -close by. "So sweetly unconventional! Everybody here thinks her -improper; she may be, but I like her. I'm not a bit of a prude." - -Courtney smiled irreverently at this. Prudery and "old" Lady Fulkeward -were indeed wide apart. Aloud he said: - -"I think whenever a woman is exceptionally beautiful she generally gets -reported as 'improper' by her own sex; especially if she has a -fascinating manner and dresses well." - -"So true," and Lady Fulkeward simpered. "Exactly what I find wherever I -go! Poor dear Ziska! She has to pay the penalty for captivating all you -men in the way she does. I'm sure YOU have lost your heart to her quite -as much as anybody else, haven't you?" - -Courtney reddened. - -"I don't think so," he answered; "I admire her very much, but I haven't -lost my heart ..." - -"Naughty boy! Don't prevaricate!" and Lady Fulkeward smiled in the -bewitching pearly manner her admirably-made artificial teeth allowed -her to do. "Every man in the hotel is in love with the Princess, and -I'm sure I don't blame them. If I belonged to your sex I should be in -love with her too. As it is, I am in love with the new arrival, that -glorious creature, Gervase. He is superb! He looks like an untamed -savage. I adore handsome barbarians!" - -"He's scarcely a barbarian, I think," said Courtney, with some -amusement; "he is the great French artist, the 'lion' of Paris just -now,--only secondary to Sarah Bernhardt." - -"Artists are always barbarians," declared Lady Fulkeward -enthusiastically. "They paint naughty people without any clothes on; -they never have any idea of time; they never keep their appointments; -and they are always falling in love with the wrong person and getting -into trouble, which is so nice of them! That's why I worship them all. -They are so refreshingly unlike OUR set!" - -Courtney raised his eyebrows inquiringly. - -"You know what I mean by our set," went on the vivacious old -"Gainsborough," "the aristocrats whose conversation is limited to the -weather and scandal, and who are so frightfully dull! Dull! My dear -Ross you know how dull they are!" - -"Well, upon my word, they are," admitted Courtney. "You are right -there. I certainly agree with you." - -"I'm sure you do! They have no ideas. Now, artists have ideas,--they -live on ideas and sentiment. Sentiment is such a beautiful thing--so -charming! I believe that fierce-looking Gervase is a creature of -sentiment--and how delightful that is! Of course, he'll paint the -Princess Ziska--he MUST paint her,--no one else could do it so well. By -the way, have you been asked to her great party next week?" - -"Yes." - -"And are you going?" - -"Most assuredly." - -"So am I. That absurd Chetwynd Lyle woman came to me this evening and -asked me if I really thought it would be proper to take her 'girls' -there," and Lady Fulkeward laughed shrilly. "Girls indeed! I should say -those two long, ugly women could go anywhere with safety. 'Do you -consider the Princess a proper woman?' she asked, and I said, -'Certainly, as proper as you are.'" - -Courtney laughed outright, and began to think there was some fun in -Lady Fulkeward. - -"By Jove! Did you tell her that?" - -"I should think I did! Oh, I know a thing or two about the Chetwynd -Lyles, but I keep my mouth shut till it suits me to open it. I said I -was going, and then, of course, she said she would." - -"Naturally." - -And Courtney gave the answer vaguely, for the waltz was ended, and the -Princess Ziska, on the arm of Gervase, was leaving the ball-room. - -"She's going," exclaimed Lady Fulkeward. "Dear creature! Excuse me--I -must speak to her for a moment." - -And with a swish of her full skirts and a toss of her huge hat and -feathers, the lively flirt of sixty tripped off with all the agility of -sixteen, leaving Courtney to follow her or remain where he was, just as -he chose. He hesitated, and during that undecided pause was joined by -Dr. Maxwell Dean. - -"A very brilliant and interesting evening!" said that individual, -smiling complacently. "I don't remember any time when I have enjoyed -myself so thoroughly." - -"Really! I shouldn't have thought you a man to care for fancy-dress -balls," said Courtney. - -"Shouldn't you? Ha! Well, some fancy-dress balls I might not care for, -but this one has been highly productive of entertainment in every way, -and several incidents connected with it have opened up to me a new -vista of research, the possibilities of which are--er--very interesting -and remarkable." - -"Indeed!" murmured Courtney indifferently, his eyes fixed on the slim, -supple figure of the Princess Ziska as she slowly moved amid her circle -of admirers out of the ball-room, her golden skirts gleaming sun-like -against the polished floor, and the jewels about her flashing in vivid -points of light from the hem of her robe to the snake in her hair. - -"Yes," continued the Doctor, smiling and rubbing his hands, "I think I -have got the clue to a very interesting problem. But I see you are -absorbed--and no wonder! A charming woman, the Princess -Ziska--charming! Do you believe in ghosts?" - -This question was put with such unexpected abruptness that Courtney was -quite taken aback. - -"Ghosts?" he echoed. "No, I cannot say I do. I have never seen one, and -I have never heard of one that did not turn out a bogus." - -"Oh! I don't mean the usual sort of ghost," said the Doctor, drawing -his shelving brows together in a meditative knot of criss-cross lines -over his small, speculative eyes. "The ghost that is common to Scotch -castles and English manor-houses, and that appears in an orthodox -night-gown, sighs, screams, rattles chains and bangs doors ad libitum. -No, no! That kind of ghost is composed of indigestion, aided by rats -and a gust of wind. No; when I say ghosts, I mean ghosts--ghosts that -do not need the midnight hour to evolve themselves into being, and that -by no means vanish at cock-crow. My ghosts are those that move about -among us in social intercourse for days, months--sometimes -years--according to their several missions; ghosts that talk to us, -imitate our customs and ways, shake hands with us, laugh and dance with -us, and altogether comport themselves like human beings. Those are my -kind of ghosts--'scientific' ghosts. There are hundreds, aye, perhaps -thousands of them in the world at this very moment." - -An uncomfortable shudder ran through Courtney's veins; the Doctor's -manner seemed peculiar and uncanny. - -"By Jove! I hope not!" he involuntarily exclaimed. "The orthodox ghost -is an infinitely better arrangement. One at least knows what to expect. -But a 'scientific' ghost that moves about in society, resembling -ourselves in every respect, appearing to be actually human and yet -having no humanity at all in its composition, is a terrific notion -indeed! You don't mean to say you believe in the possibility of such an -appalling creature?" - -"I not only believe it," answered the Doctor composedly, "I know it!" - -Here the band crashed out "God save the Queen," which, as a witty -Italian once remarked, is the De Profundis of every English festivity. - -"But--God bless my soul!" began Courtney ... - -"No, don't say that!" urged the Doctor. "Say 'God save the Queen.' It's -more British." - -"Bother 'God save the Queen,'" exclaimed Courtney impatiently.--"Look -here, you don't mean it seriously, do you?" - -"I always mean everything seriously," said Dr. Dean,--"even my jokes." - -"Now come, no nonsense, Doctor," and Courtney, taking his arm, led him -towards one of the windows opening out to the moonlit garden,--"can -you, as an honest man, assure me in sober earnest that there are -'scientific ghosts' of the nature you describe?" - -The little Doctor surveyed the scenery, glanced up at the moon, and -then at his companion's pleasant but not very intelligent face. - -"I would rather not discuss the matter," he said at last, with some -brusqueness. "There are certain subjects connected with psychic -phenomena on which it is best to be silent; besides, what interest can -such things have for you? You are a sportsman,--keep to your big game, -and leave ghost-hunting to me." - -"That is not a fair answer to my question," said Courtney, "I'm sure I -don't want to interfere with your researches in any way; I only want to -know if it is a fact that ghosts exist, and that they are really of -such a nature as to deserve the term 'scientific.'" - -Dr. Dean was silent a moment. Then, stretching out his small, thin -hand, he pointed to the clear sky, where the stars were almost lost to -sight in the brilliance of the moon. - -"Look out there!" he said, his voice thrilling with sudden and solemn -fervor. "There in the limitless ether move millions of universes--vast -creations which our finite brains cannot estimate without -reeling,--enormous forces always at work, in the mighty movements of -which our earth is nothing more than a grain of sand. Yet far more -marvellous than their size or number is the mathematical exactitude of -their proportions,--the minute perfection of their balance,--the -exquisite precision with which every one part is fitted to another -part, not a pin's point awry, not a hair's breadth astray. Well, the -same exactitude which rules the formation and working of Matter -controls the formation and working of Spirit; and this is why I know -that ghosts exist, and, moreover, that we are COMPELLED by the laws of -the phenomena surrounding us to meet them every day." - -"I confess I do not follow you at all," said Courtney bewildered. - -"No," and Dr. Dean smiled curiously. "I have perhaps expressed myself -obscurely. Yet I am generally considered a clear exponent. First of -all, let me ask you, do you believe in the existence of Matter?" - -"Why, of course!" - -"You do. Then you will no doubt admit that there is Something--an -Intelligent Principle or Spiritual Force--which creates and controls -this Matter?" - -Courtney hesitated. - -"Well, I suppose there must be," he said at last. "I'm not a -church-goer, and I'm rather a free-thinker, but I certainly believe -there is a Mind at work behind the Matter." - -"That being the case," proceeded the Doctor, "I suppose you will not -deny to this Invisible Mind the same exactitude of proportion and -precise method of action already granted to Visible Matter?". - -"Of course, I could not deny such a reasonable proposition," said -Courtney. - -"Very good! Pursuing the argument logically, and allowing for an -exactly-moving Mind behind exactly-working Matter, it follows that -there can be no such thing as injustice anywhere in the universe?" - -"My dear Socrates redivivus," laughed Courtney, "I fail to see what all -this has to do with ghosts." - -"It has everything to do with them," declared the Doctor emphatically, -"I repeat that if we grant these already stated premises concerning the -composition of Mind and Matter, there can be no such thing as -injustice. Yet seemingly unjust things are done every day, and -seemingly go unpunished. I say 'seemingly' advisedly, because the -punishment is always administered. And here the 'scientific ghosts' -come in. 'Vengeance is mine,' saith the Lord,--and the ghosts I speak -of are the Lord's way of doing it." - -"You mean ..." began Courtney. - -"I mean," continued the Doctor with some excitement, "that the sinner -who imagines his sins are undiscovered is a fool who deceives himself. -I mean that the murderer who has secretly torn the life out of his -shrieking victim in some unfrequented spot, and has succeeded in hiding -his crime from what we call 'justice,' cannot escape the Spiritual law -of vengeance. What would you say," and Dr. Dean laid his thin fingers -on Courtney's coat-sleeve with a light pressure,--"if I told you that -the soul of a murdered creature is often sent back to earth in human -shape to dog its murderer down? And that many a criminal undiscovered -by the police is haunted by a seeming Person,--a man or a woman,--who -is on terms of intimacy with him,--who eats at his table, drinks his -wine, clasps his hand, smiles in his face, and yet is truly nothing but -the ghost of his victim in human disguise, sent to drag him gradually -to his well-deserved, miserable end; what would you say to such a -thing?" - -"Horrible!" exclaimed Courtney, recoiling. "Beyond everything monstrous -and horrible!" - -The Doctor smiled and withdrew his hand from his companion's arm. - -"There are a great many horrible things in the universe as well as -pleasant ones," he observed dryly. "Crime and its results are always of -a disagreeable nature. But we cannot alter the psychic law of equity -any more than we can alter the material law of gravitation. It is -growing late; I think, if you will excuse me, I will go to bed." - -Courtney look at him puzzled and baffled. - -"Then your 'scientific ghosts' are positive realities?" he began; here -he gave a violent start as a tall white figure suddenly moved out of -the shadows in the garden and came slowly towards them. "Upon my life, -Doctor, you have made me quite nervous!" - -"No, no, surely not," smiled the Doctor pleasantly--"not nervous! Not -such a brave killer of game as you are! No, no! You don't take Monsieur -Armand Gervase for a ghost, do you? He is too substantial,--far too -substantial! Ha! ha! ha!" - -And he laughed quietly, the wrinkled smile still remaining on his face -as Gervase approached. - -"Everybody is going to bed," said the great artist lazily. "With the -departure of the Princess Ziska, the pleasures of the evening are -ended." - -"She is certainly the belle of Cairo this season," said Courtney, "but -I tell you what,--I am rather sorry to see young Murray has lost his -head about her." - -"Parbleu! So am I," said Gervase imperturbably; "it seems a pity." - -"He will get over it," interposed Dr. Dean placidly. "It's an -illness,--like typhoid,--we must do all we can to keep down the -temperature of the patient, and we shall pull him through." - -"Keep him cool, in short!" laughed Gervase. - -"Exactly!" The little Doctor smiled shrewdly. "You look feverish, -Monsieur Gervase." - -Gervase flushed red under his dark skin. - -"I daresay I am feverish," he replied irritably,--"I find this place -hot as an oven. I think I should go away to-morrow if I had not asked -the Princess Ziska to sit to me." - -"You are going to paint her picture?" exclaimed Courtney. "By Jove! I -congratulate you. It will be the masterpiece of the next salon." - -Gervase bowed. - -"You flatter me! The Princess is undoubtedly an attractive subject. -But, as I said before, this place stifles me. I think the hotel is too -near the river,--there is an oozy smell from the Nile that I hate, and -the heat is perfectly sulphureous. Don't you find it so, Doctor?" - -"N-n-o! I cannot say that I do. Let me feel your pulse; I am not a -medical man--but I can easily recognize any premonitions of illness." - -Gervase held out his long, brown, well-shaped hand, and the savant's -small, cool fingers pressed lightly on his wrist. - -"You are quite well, Monsieur Gervase," he said after a pause,--"You -have a little sur-excitation of the nerves, certainly,--but it is not -curable by medicine." He dropped the hand he held, and looked -up--"Good-night!" - -"Good-night!" responded Gervase. - -"Good-night!" added Courtney. - -And with an amiable salutation the Doctor went his way. The ball-room -was now quite deserted, and the hotel servants were extinguishing the -lights. - -"A curious little man, that Doctor," observed Gervase, addressing -Courtney, to whom as yet he had not been formally introduced. - -"Very curious!" was the reply, "I have known him for some years,--he is -a very clever man, but I have never been able quite to make him out. I -think he is a bit eccentric. He's just been telling me he believes in -ghosts." - -"Ah, poor fellow!" and Gervase yawned as, with his companion, he -crossed the deserted ball-room. "Then he has what you call a screw -loose. I suppose it is that which makes him interesting. Good-night!" - -"Good-night!" - -And separating, they went their several ways to the small, cell-like -bedrooms, which are the prime discomfort of the Gezireh Palace Hotel, -and soon a great silence reigned throughout the building. All Cairo -slept,--save where at an open lattice window the moon shone full on a -face up-turned to her silver radiance,--the white, watchful face, and -dark, sleepless eyes of the Princess Ziska. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - - -Next day the ordinary course of things was resumed at the Gezireh -Palace Hotel, and the delights and flirtations of the fancy-ball began -to vanish into what Hans Breitmann calls "the ewigkeit". Men were -lazier than usual and came down later to breakfast, and girls looked -worn and haggard with over-much dancing, but otherwise there was no -sign to indicate that the festivity of the past evening had left -"tracks behind," or made a lasting impression of importance on any -human life. Lady Chetwynd Lyle, portly and pig-faced, sat on the -terrace working at an elaborate piece of cross-stitch, talking scandal -in the civilest tone imaginable, and damning all her "dear friends" -with that peculiar air of entire politeness and good breeding which -distinguishes certain ladies when they are saying nasty things about -one another. Her daughters, Muriel and Dolly, sat dutifully near her, -one reading the Daily Dial, as befitted the offspring of the editor and -proprietor thereof, the other knitting. Lord Fulkeward lounged on the -balustrade close by, and his lovely mother, attired in quite a charming -and girlish costume of white foulard exquisitely cut and fitting into a -waist not measuring more than twenty-two inches, reclined in a long -deck-chair, looking the very pink of painted and powdered perfection. - -"You are so very lenient," Lady Chetwynd Lyle was saying, as she bent -over her needlework. "So very lenient, my dear Lady Fulkeward, that I -am afraid you do not read people's characters as correctly as I do. I -have had, owing to my husband's position in journalism, a great deal of -social experience, and I assure you I do NOT think the Princess Ziska a -safe person. She may be perfectly proper--she MAY be--but she is not -the style we are accustomed to in London." - -"I should rather think not!" interrupted Lord Fulkeward, hastily. "By -Jove! She wouldn't have a hair left on her head in London, don'cher -know!" - -"What do you mean?" inquired Muriel Chetwynd Lyle, simpering. "You -really do say such funny things, Lord Fulkeward!" - -"Do I?" and the young nobleman was so alarmed and embarrassed at the -very idea of his ever saying funny things that he was rendered quite -speechless for a moment. Anon he took heart and resumed: "Er--well--I -mean that the society women would tear her to bits in no time. She'd -get asked nowhere, but she'd get blackguarded everywhere; she couldn't -help herself with that face and those eyes." - -His mother laughed. - -"Dear Fulke! You are such a naughty boy! You shouldn't make such -remarks before Lady Lyle. She never says anything against anyone!" - -"Dear Fulke" stared. Had he given vent to his feelings he would have -exclaimed: "Oh, Lord!--isn't the old lady a deep one!" But as it was he -attended to his young moustache anxiously and remained silent. Lady -Chetwynd Lyle meanwhile flushed with annoyance; she felt that Lady -Fulkeward's remark was sarcastic, but she could not very well resent -it, seeing that Lady Fulkeward was a peeress of the realm, and that she -herself, by the strict laws of heraldry, was truly only "Dame" Chetwynd -Lyle, as wife of an ordinary knight, and had no business to be called -"her ladyship" at all. - -"I should, indeed, be sorry," she said, primly, "if I were mistaken in -my private estimate of the Princess Ziska's character, but I must -believe my own eyes and the evidence of my own senses, and surely no -one can condone the extremely fast way in which she behaved with that -new man--that French artist, Armand Gervase--last night. Why, she -danced six times with him! And she actually allowed him to walk home -with her through the streets of Cairo! They went off together, in their -fancy dresses, just as they were! I never heard of such a thing!" - -"Oh, there was nothing remarkable at all in that," said Lord Fulkeward. -"Everybody went about the place in fancy costume last night. I went out -in my Neapolitan dress with a girl, and I met Denzil Murray coming down -a street just behind here--took him for a Florentine prince, upon my -word! And I bet you Gervase never got beyond the door of the Princess's -palace; for that blessed old Nubian she keeps--the chap with a face -like a mummy--bangs the gate in everybody's face, and says in guttural -French: 'La Princesse ne voit per-r-r-sonne!' I've tried it. I tell you -it's no go!" - -"Well, we shall all get inside the mysterious palace next Wednesday -evening," said Lady Fulkeward, closing her eyes with a graceful air of -languor, "It will be charming, I am sure, and I daresay we shall find -that there is no mystery at all about it." - -"Two months ago," suddenly said a smooth voice behind them, "the -Ziska's house or palace was uninhabited." - -Lady Fulkeward gave a little scream and looked round. - -"Good gracious, Dr. Dean! How you frightened me!" - -The Doctor made an apologetic bow. - -"I am very sorry. I forgot you were so sensitive; pray pardon me! As I -was saying, two months ago the palace of the Princess Ziska was a -deserted barrack. Formerly, so I hear, it used to be the house of some -great personage; but it had been allowed to fall into decay, and nobody -would rent it, even for the rush of the Cairene season, till it was -secured by the Nubian you were speaking of just now--the interesting -Nubian with the face like a mummy; he took it and furnished it, and -when it was ready Madame la Princesse appeared on the scene and has -resided there every since." - -"I wonder what that Nubian has to do with her?" said Lady Chetwynd -Lyle, severely. - -"Nothing at all," replied the Doctor, calmly. "He is the merest -servant--the kind of person who is 'told off' to attend on the women of -a harem." - -"Ah, I see you have been making inquiries concerning the princess, -Doctor," said Lady Fulkeward, with a smile. - -"I have." - -"And have you found out anything about her?" - -"No; that is, nothing of social importance, except, perhaps, two -items--first, that she is not a Russian; secondly, that she has never -been married." - -"Never been married!" exclaimed Lady Chetwynd Lyle, then suddenly -turning to her daughters she said blandly: "Muriel, Dolly, go into the -house, my dears. It is getting rather warm for you on this terrace. I -will join you in a few minutes." - -The "girls" rose obediently with a delightfully innocent and juvenile -air, and fortunately for them did not notice the irreverent smile that -played on young Lord Fulkeward's face, which was immediately reflected -on the artistically tinted countenance of his mother, at the manner of -their dismissal. - -"There is surely nothing improper in never having been married," said -Dr. Dean, with a mock serious air. "Consider, my dear Lady Lyle, is -there not something very chaste and beautiful in the aspect of an old -maid?" - -Lady Lyle looked up sharply. She had an idea that both she and her -daughters were being quizzed, and she had some difficulty to control -her rising temper. - -"Then do you call the Princess an old maid?" she demanded. - -Lady Fulkeward looked amused; her son laughed outright. But the -Doctor's face was perfectly composed. - -"I don't know what else I can call her," he said, with a thoughtful -air. "She is no longer in her teens, and she has too much voluptuous -charm for an ingenue. Still, I admit, you would scarcely call her 'old' -except in the parlance of the modern matrimonial market. Our -present-day roues, you know, prefer their victims young, and I fancy -the Princess Ziska would be too old and perhaps too clever for most of -them. Personally speaking, she does not impress me as being of any -particular age, but as she is not married, and is, so to speak, a maid -fully developed, I am perforce obliged to call her an old maid." - -"She wouldn't thank you for the compliment," said Lady Lyle with a -spiteful grin. - -"I daresay not," responded the Doctor blandly, "but I imagine she has -very little personal vanity. Her mind is too preoccupied with something -more important than the consideration of her own good looks." - -"And what is that?" inquired Lady Fulkeward, with some curiosity. - -"Ah! there is the difficulty! What is it that engrosses our fair friend -more than the looking-glass? I should like to know--but I cannot find -out. It is an enigma as profound as that of the sphinx. Good-morning, -Monsieur Gervase!"--and, turning round, he addressed the artist, who -just then stepped out on the terrace carrying a paintbox and a large -canvas strapped together in portable form. "Are you going to sketch -some picturesque corner of the city?" - -"No," replied Gervase, listlessly raising his white sun-hat to the -ladies present with a courteous, yet somewhat indifferent grace. "I'm -going to the Princess Ziska's. I shall probably get the whole outline -of her features this morning." - -"A full-length portrait?" inquired the Doctor. - -"I fancy not. Not the first attempt, at any rate--head and shoulders -only." - -"Do you know where her house is?" asked Lord Fulkeward. "If you don't, -I'll walk with you and show you the way." - -"Thanks--you are very good. I shall be obliged to you." - -And raising his hat again he sauntered slowly off, young Fulkeward -walking with him and chatting to him with more animation than that -exhausted and somewhat vacant-minded aristocrat usually showed to -anyone. - -"It is exceedingly warm," said Lady Lyle, rising then and putting away -her cross-stitch apparatus, "I thought of driving to the Pyramids this -afternoon, but really ..." - -"There is shade all the way," suggested the Doctor, "I said as much to -a young woman this morning who has been in the hotel for nearly two -months, and hasn't seen the Pyramids yet." - -"What has she been doing with herself?" asked Lady Fulkeward, smiling. - -"Dancing with officers," said Dr. Dean. "How can Cheops compare with a -moustached noodle in military uniform! Good-bye for the present; I'm -going to hunt for scarabei." - -"I thought you had such a collection of them already," said Lady Lyle. - -"So I have. But the Princess had a remarkable one on last night, and I -want to find another like it. It's blue--very blue--almost like a rare -turquoise, and it appears it is the sign-manual of the warrior Araxes, -who was a kind of king in his way, or desert chief, which was about the -same thing in those days. He fought for Amenhotep, and seemed from all -accounts to be a greater man than Amenhotep himself. The Princess Ziska -is a wonderful Egyptologist; I had a most interesting conversation with -her last night in the supper-room." - -"Then she is really a woman of culture and intelligence?" queried Lady -Lyle. - -The Doctor smiled. - -"I should say she would be a great deal too much for the University of -Oxford, as far as Oriental learning goes," he said. "She can read the -Egyptian papyri, she tells me, and she can decipher anything on any of -the monuments. I only wish I could persuade her to accompany me to -Thebes and Karnak." - -Lady Fulkeward unfurled her fan and swayed it to and fro with an -elegant languor. - -"How delightful that would be!" she sighed. "So romantic and -solemn--all those dear old cities with those marvellous figures of the -Egyptians carved and painted on the stones! And Rameses--dear Rameses! -He really has good legs everywhere! Haven't you noticed that? So many -of these ancient sculptures represent the Egyptians with such angular -bodies and such frightfully thin legs, but Rameses always has good legs -wherever you find him. It's so refreshing! DO make up a party, Dr. -Dean!--we'll all go with you; and I'm sure the Princess Ziska will be -the most charming companion possible. Let us have a dahabeah! I'm good -for half the expenses, if you will only arrange everything." - -The Doctor stroked his chin and looked dubious, but he was evidently -attracted by the idea. - -"I'll see about it," he said at last. "Meanwhile I'll go and have a -hunt for some traces of Amenhotep and Araxes." - -He strolled down the terrace, and Lady Chetwynd Lyle, turning her back -on "old" Lady Fulkeward, went after her "girls," while the fascinating -Fulkeward herself continued to recline comfortably in her chair, and -presently smiled a welcome on a youngish-looking man with a fair -moustache who came forward and sat down beside her, talking to her in -low, tender and confidential tones. He was the very impecunious colonel -of one of the regiments then stationed in Cairo, and as he never wasted -time on sentiment, he had been lately thinking that a marriage with a -widowed peeress who had twenty thousand pounds a year in her own right -might not be a "half bad" arrangement for him. So he determined to do -the agreeable, and as he was a perfect adept in the art of making love -without feeling it, he got on very well, and his prospects brightened -steadily hour by hour. - -Meanwhile young Fulkeward was escorting Armand Gervase through several -narrow by-streets, talking to him as well as he knew how and trying in -his feeble way to "draw him out," in which task he met with but -indifferent success. - -"It must be awfully jolly and--er--all that sort of thing to be so -famous," he observed, glancing up at the strong, dark, brooding face -above him. "They had a picture of yours over in London once; I went to -see it with my mother. It was called 'Le Poignard,' do you remember it?" - -Gervase shrugged his shoulders carelessly. - -"Yes, I remember. A poor thing at its best. It was a woman with a -dagger in her hand." - -"Yes, awfully fine, don'cher know! She was a very dark woman--too dark -for my taste,--and she'd got a poignard clasped in in her right hand. -Of course, she was going to murder somebody with it; that was plain -enough. You meant it so, didn't you?" - -"I suppose I did." - -"She was in a sort of Eastern get-up," pursued Fulkeward, "one of your -former studies in Egypt, perhaps." - -Gervase started, and passed his hand across his forehead with a -bewildered air. - -"No, no! Not a former study, by any means. How could it be? This is my -first visit to Egypt. I have never been here before." - -"Haven't you? Really! Well, you'll find it awfully interesting and all -that sort of thing. I don't see half as much of it as I should like. -I'm a weak chap--got something wrong with my lungs,--awful bother, but -can't be helped. My mother won't let me do too much. Here we are; this -is the Princess Ziska's." - -They were standing in a narrow street ending in a cul-de-sac, with tall -houses on each side which cast long, black, melancholy shadows on the -rough pavement below. A vague sense of gloom and oppression stole over -Gervase as he surveyed the outside of the particular dwelling Fulkeward -pointed out to him--a square, palatial building, which had no doubt -once been magnificent in its exterior adornment, but which now, owing -to long neglect, had fallen into somewhat melancholy decay. The sombre -portal, fantastically ornamented with designs copied from some of the -Egyptian monuments, rather resembled the gateway of a tomb than an -entrance to the private residence of a beautiful living woman, and -Fulkeward, noting his companion's silence, added: - -"Not a very cheerful corner, is it? Some of these places are regular -holes, don'cher know; but I daresay it's all right inside." - -"You have never been inside?" - -"Never." And Fulkeward lowered his voice: "Look up there; there's the -beast that keeps everybody out!" - -Gervase followed his glance, and perceived behind the projecting carved -lattice-work of one of the windows a dark, wrinkled face and two -gleaming eyes which, even at that distance, had, or appeared to have, a -somewhat sinister expression. - -"He's the nastiest type of Nubian I have ever seen," pursued Fulkeward. -"Looks just like a galvanized corpse." - -Gervase smiled, and perceiving a long bell-handle at the gateway, -pulled it sharply. In another moment the Nubian appeared, his aspect -fully justifying Lord Fulkeward's description of him. The -parchment-like skin on his face was yellowish-black, and wrinkled in a -thousand places; his lips were of a livid blue, and were drawn up and -down above and below the teeth in a kind of fixed grin, while the dense -brilliance of his eyes was so fierce and fiery as to suggest those of -some savage beast athirst for prey. - -"Madame la Princesse Ziska" began Gervase, addressing his unfascinating -object with apparent indifference to his hideousness. - -The Nubian's grinning lips stretched themselves wider apart as, in a -thick, snarling voice he demanded: - -"Votre nom?" - -"Armand Gervase." - -"Entrez!" - -"Et moi?" queried Fulkeward, with a conciliatory smile. - -"Non! Pas vous. Monsieur Armand Gervase, seul!" - -Fulkeward gave a resigned shrug of his shoulders; Gervase looked round -at him ere he crossed the threshold of the mysterious habitation. - -"I'm sorry you have to walk back alone." - -"Don't mention it," said Fulkeward affably. "You see, you have come on -business. You're going to paint the Princess's picture; and I daresay -this blessed old rascal knows that I want nothing except to look at his -mistress and wonder what she's made of." - -"What she's made of?" echoed Gervase in surprise. "Don't you think -she's made like other women?" - -"No; can't say I do. She seems all fire and vapor and eyes in the -middle, don'cher know. Oh, I'm an ass--always was--but that's the -feeling she gives me. Ta-ta! Wish you a pleasant morning!" - -He nodded and strolled away, and Gervase hesitated yet another moment, -looking full at the Nubian, who returned him stare for stare. - -"Maintenant?" he began. - -"Oui, maintenant," echoed the Nubian. - -"La Princesse, ou est elle?" - -"La!" and the Nubian pointed down a long, dark passage beyond which -there seemed to be the glimmer of green palms and other foliage. "Elle -vous attend, Monsieur Armand Gervase! Entrez! Suivez!" - -Slowly Gervase passed in, and the great tomb-like door closed upon him -with a heavy clang. The whole long, bright day passed, and he did not -reappear; not a human foot crossed the lonely street and nothing was -seen there all through the warm sunshiny hours save the long, black -shadows on the pavement, which grew longer and darker as the evening -fell. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - - -Within the palace of the Princess Ziska a strange silence reigned. In -whatever way the business of her household was carried on, it was -evidently with the most absolute noiselessness, for not a sound -disturbed the utter stillness environing her. She herself, clad in -white garments that clung about her closely, displaying the perfect -outlines of her form, stood waiting for her guest in a room that was -fairly dazzling to the eye in its profusion of exquisitely assorted and -harmonized colors, as well as impressive to the mind in its suggestions -of the past rather than of the present. Quaint musical instruments of -the fashion of thousands of years ago hung on the walls or lay on -brackets and tables, but no books such as our modern time produces were -to be seen; only tied-up bundles of papyri and curious little tablets -of clay inscribed with mysterious hieroglyphs. Flowers adorned every -corner--many of them strange blossoms which a connoisseur would have -declared to be unknown in Egypt,--palms and ferns and foliage of every -description were banked up against the walls in graceful profusion, and -from the latticed windows the light filtered through colored squares, -giving a kind of rainbow-effect to the room, as though it were a scene -in a dream rather than a reality. And even more dream-like than her -surroundings was the woman who awaited the approach of her visitor, her -eyes turned towards the door--fiery eyes filled with such ardent -watchfulness as seemed to burn the very air. The eyes of a hawk -gleaming on its prey,--the eyes of a famished tiger in the dark, were -less fraught with terrific meaning than the eyes of Ziska as she -listened attentively to the on-coming footsteps through the outside -corridor which told her that Gervase was near. - -"At last!" she whispered, "at last!" The next moment the Nubian flung -the door wide open and announced "Monsieur Armand Gervase!" - -She advanced with all the wonderful grace which distinguished her, -holding out both her slim, soft hands. Gervase caught them in his own -and kissed them fervently, whereupon the Nubian retired, closing the -door after him. - -"You are very welcome, Monsieur Gervase," said the Princess then, -speaking with a measured slowness that was attractive as well as -soothing to the ear. "You have left all the dear English people well at -the Gezireh Palace? Lady Fulkeward was not too tired after her -exertions at the ball? And you?" - -But Gervase was gazing at her in a speechless confusion of mind too -great for words. A sudden, inexplicable emotion took possession of -him,--an emotion to which he could give no name, but which stupefied -him and held him mute. Was it her beauty which so dazzled his senses? -Was it some subtle perfume in the room that awoke a dim haunting -memory? Or what was it that seemed so strangely familiar? He struggled -with himself, and finally spoke out his thought: - -"I have seen you before, Princess; I am quite sure I have! I thought I -had last night; but to-day I am positive about it. Strange, isn't it? I -wonder where we really met?" - -Her dark eyes rested on him fully. - -"I wonder!" she echoed, smiling. "The world is so small, and so many -people nowadays make the 'grand tour,' that it is not at all surprising -we should have passed each other en route through our journey of life." - -Gervase still hesitated, glancing about him with a singularly -embarrassed air, while she continued to watch him intently. Presently -his sensations, whatever they were, passed off, and gradually -recovering his equanimity, he became aware that he was quite alone with -one of the most fascinating women he had ever seen. His eyes flashed, -and he smiled. - -"I have come to paint your picture," he said softly. "Shall I begin?" - -She had seated herself on a silken divan, and her head rested against a -pile of richly-embroidered cushions. Without waiting for her answer, he -threw himself down beside her and caught her hand in his. - -"Shall I paint your picture?" he whispered. "Or shall I make love to -you?" - -She laughed,--the sweet, low laugh that somehow chilled his blood while -it charmed his hearing. - -"Whichever you please," she answered. "Both performances would no doubt -be works of art!" - -"What do you mean?" - -"Can you not understand? If you paint my picture it will be a work of -art. If you make love to me it will equally be a work of art: that is, -a composed thing--an elaborate study." - -"Bah! Love is not a composed thing," said Gervase, leaning closer to -her. "It is wild, and full of libertinage as the sea." - -"And equally as fickle," added the Princess composedly, taking a fan of -feathers near her and waving it to and fro. "Man's idea of love is to -take all he can get from a woman, and give her nothing in return but -misery sometimes, and sometimes death." - -"You do not,--you cannot think that!" said Gervase, looking at her -dazzling face with a passion of admiration he made no attempt to -conceal. "Men on the whole are not as cruel or as treacherous as women. -I would swear, looking at you, that, beautiful as you are, you are -cruel, and that is perhaps why I love you! You are like a splendid -tigress waiting to be tamed!" - -"And you think you could tame me?" interposed Ziska, looking at him -with an inscrutable disdain in her black eyes. - -"Yes, if you loved me!" - -"Ah, possibly! But then it happens that I do not love you. I love no -one. I have had too much of love; it is a folly I have grown weary of!" - -Gervase fixed his eyes on her with an audacious look which seemed to -hint that he might possibly take advantage of being alone with her to -enforce his ideas of love more eloquently than was in accordance with -the proprieties. She perceived his humor, smiled, and coldly gave him -back glance for glance. Then, rising from the divan, she drew herself -up to her full height and surveyed him with a kind of indulgent -contempt. - -"You are an uprincipled man, Armand Gervase," she said; "and do you -know I fear you always will be! A cleansing of your soul through -centuries of fire will be necessary for you in the next world,--that -next world which you do not believe in. But it is perhaps as well to -warn you that I am not without protection in this place ... See!" and -as she spoke she clapped her hands. - -A clanging noise as of brazen bells answered her,--and Gervase, -springing up from his seat, saw, to his utter amazement, the apparently -solid walls of the room in which they were, divide rapidly and form -themselves in several square openings which showed a much larger and -vaster apartment beyond, resembling a great hall. Here were assembled -some twenty or thirty gorgeously-costumed Arab attendants,--men of a -dark and sinister type, who appeared to be fully armed, judging from -the unpleasant-looking daggers and other weapons they carried at their -belts. The Princess clapped her hands again, and the walls closed in -the same rapid fashion as they had opened, while the beautiful mistress -of this strange habitation laughed mirthfully at the complete confusion -of her visitor and would-be lover. - -"Paint me now!" she said, flinging herself in a picturesque attitude on -one of the sofas close by; "I am ready." - -"But _I_ am not ready!" retorted Gervase, angrily. "Do you take me for -a child, or a fool?" - -"Both in one," responded the Princess, tranquilly; "being a man!" - -His breath came and went quickly. - -"Take care, beautiful Ziska!" he said. "Take care how you defy me!" - -"And take care, Monsieur Gervase; take care how you defy ME!" she -responded, with a strange, quick glance at him. "Do you not realize -what folly you are talking? You are making love to me in the fashion of -a brigand, rather than a nineteenth-century Frenchman of good -standing,--and I--I have to defend myself against you also -brigand-wise, by showing you that I have armed servants within call! It -is very strange,--it would frighten even Lady Fulkeward, and I think -she is not easily frightened. Pray commence your work, and leave such -an out-of-date matter as love to dreamers and pretty sentimentalists, -like Miss Helen Murray." - -He was silent, and busied himself in unstrapping his canvas and -paint-box with a great deal of almost vicious energy. In a few moments -he had gained sufficient composure to look full at her, and taking his -palette in hand, he began dabbing on the colors, talking between whiles. - -"Do you suppose," he said, keeping his voice carefully subdued, "that -you can intimidate me by showing me a score of wretched black rascals -whom you have placed on guard to defend you out there? And why did you -place them on guard? You must have been afraid of me! Pardieu! I could -snatch you out of their midst, if I chose! You do not know me; if you -did, you would understand that not all the world, armed to the teeth -should balk me of my desires! But I have been too hasty--that I own,--I -can wait." He raised his eyes and saw that she was listening with an -air of amused indifference. "I shall have to mix strange tints in your -portrait, ma belle! It is difficult to find the exact hue of your -skin--there is rose and brown in it; and there is yet another color -which I must evolve while working,--and it is not the hue of health. It -is something dark and suggestive of death; I hope you are not destined -to an early grave! And yet, why not? It is better that a beautiful -woman should die in her beauty than live to become old and tiresome ..." - -"You think that?" interrupted the Ziska suddenly, smiling somewhat -coldly. - -"I do, most honestly. Had I lived in the early days of civilization, -when men were allowed to have as many women as they could provide for, -I would have mercifully killed any sweet favorite as soon as her beauty -began to wane. A lovely woman, dead in her first exquisite youth,--how -beautiful a subject for the mind to dwell upon! How it suggests all -manner of poetic fancies and graceful threnodies! But a woman grown -old, who has outlived all passion and is a mere bundle of fat, or a -mummy of skin and bone,--what poetry does her existence suggest? How -can she appeal to art or sentiment? She is a misery to herself and an -eyesore to others. Yes, Princess, believe me,--Love first, and Death -afterwards, are woman's best friends." - -"You believe in Death?" ask the Princess, looking steadily at him. - -"It is the only thing I do believe in," he answered lightly. "It is a -fact that will bear examination, but not contradiction. May I ask you -to turn your head slightly to the left--so! Yes, that will do; if I can -catch the look in your eyes that gleams there now,--the look of -intense, burning, greedy cruelty which is so murderously fascinating, I -shall be content." - -He seated himself opposite to her, and, putting down his palette, took -up his canvas, and posing it on his knee, began drawing the first rough -outline of his sketch in charcoal. She, meanwhile, leaning against -heaped-up cushions of amber satin, remained silent. - -"You are not a vain woman," he pursued, "or you would resent my -description of your eyes. 'Greedy cruelty' is not a pretty expression, -nor would it be considered complimentary by the majority of the fair -sex. Yet, from my point of view, it is the highest flattery I can pay -you, for I adore the eyes of savage animals, and the beautiful eye of -the forest-beast is in your head,--diableresse charmante comme vous -etes! I wonder what gives you such an insatiate love of vengeance?" - -He looked up and saw her eyes glistening and narrowing at the corners, -like the eyes of an angry snake. - -"If I have such a feeling," she replied slowly, "it is probably a -question of heritage." - -"Ah! Your parents were perhaps barbaric in their notions of love and -hatred?" he queried, lazily working at his charcoal sketch with growing -admiration for its result. - -"My parents came of a race of kings!" she answered. "All my ancestors -were proud, and of a temper unknown to this petty day. They resented a -wrong, they punished falsehood and treachery, and they took a life for -a life. YOUR generation tolerates every sin known in the calendar with -a smile and a shrug,--you have arrived at the end of your civilization, -even to the denial of Deity and a future life." - -"That is not the end of our civilization, Princess," said Gervase, -working away intently, with eyes fixed on the canvas as he talked. -"That is the triumphal apex, the glory, the culmination of everything -that is great and supreme in manhood. In France, man now knows himself -to be the only God; England--good, slow-pacing England--is approaching -France in intelligence by degrees, and I rejoice to see that it is -possible for a newspaper like the Agnostic to exist in London. Only the -other day that excellent journal was discussing the possibility of -teaching monkeys to read, and a witty writer, who adopts the nom de -plume of 'Saladin,' very cleverly remarked 'that supposing monkeys were -able to read the New Testament, they would still remain monkeys; in -fact, they would probably be greater monkeys than ever.' The fact of -such an expression being allowed to pass muster in once pious London is -an excellent sign of the times and of our progress towards the pure Age -of Reason. The name of Christ is no longer one to conjure with." - -A dead silence followed his words, and the peculiar stillness and -heaviness of the atmosphere struck him with a vague alarm. He lifted -his eyes,--the Princess Ziska met his gaze steadily, but there was -something in her aspect that moved him to wonderment and a curious -touch of terror. The delicate rose-tint of her cheeks had faded to an -ashy paleness, her lips were pressed together tightly and her eyes -seemed to have gained a vivid and angry lustre which Medusa herself -might have envied. - -"Did you ever try to conjure with that name?" she asked. - -"Never," he replied, forcing a smile and remonstrating with himself for -the inexplicable nature of his emotions. - -She went on slowly: - -"In my creed--for I have a creed--it is believed that those who have -never taken the sacred name of Christ to their hearts, as a talisman of -comfort and support, are left as it were in the vortex of -uncertainties, tossed to and fro among many whirling and mighty forces, -and haunted forever by the phantoms of their own evil deeds. Till they -learn and accept the truth of their marvellous Redemption, they are the -prey of wicked spirits who tempt and lead them on to divers miseries. -But when the great Name of Him who died upon the Cross is acknowledged, -then it is found to be of that transfiguring nature which turns evil to -good, and sometimes makes angels out of fiends. Nevertheless, for the -hardened reprobate and unbeliever the old laws suffice." - -Gervase had stopped the quick movement of his "fusin," and looked at -her curiously. - -"What old laws?" he asked. - -"Stern justice without mercy!" she answered; then in lighter accents -she added: "Have you finished your first outline?" - -In reply, he turned his canvas round to her, showing her a head and -profile boldly presented in black and white. She smiled. - -"It is clever; but it is not like me," she said. "When you begin the -coloring you will find that your picture and I have no resemblance to -each other." - -He flushed with a sense of wounded amour propre. - -"Pardon, madame!--I am no novice at the art of painting," he said; "and -much as your charms dazzle and ensnare me, they do not disqualify my -brain and hand from perfectly delineating them upon my canvas. I love -you to distraction; but my passion shall not hinder me from making your -picture a masterpiece." - -She laughed. - -"What an egoist you are, Monsieur Gervase!" she said. "Even in your -professed passion for me you count yourself first,--me afterwards!" - -"Naturally!" he replied. "A man must always be first by natural -creation. When he allows himself to play second fiddle, he is a fool!" - -"And when he is a fool--and he often is--he is the first of fools!" -said the Princess. "No ape--no baboon hanging by its tail to a -tree--looks such a fool as a man-fool. For a man-fool has had all the -opportunities of education and learning bestowed upon him; this great -universe, with its daily lessons of the natural and the supernatural, -is his book laid open for his reading, and when he will neither read it -nor consider it, and, moreover, when he utterly denies the very Maker -of it, then there is no fool in all creation like him. For the ape-fool -does at least admit that there may be a stronger beast somewhere,--a -creature who may suddenly come upon him and end his joys of hanging by -his tail to a tree and make havoc of his fruit-eating and chattering, -while man thinks there is nothing anywhere superior to himself." - -Gervase smiled tolerantly. - -"I am afraid I have ruffled you, Princess," he said. "I see you have -religious ideas: I have none." - -Once again she laughed musically. - -"Religious ideas! I! Not at all. I have a creed as I told you, but it -is an ugly one--not at all sentimental or agreeable. It is one I have -adopted from ancient Egypt." - -"Explain it to me," said Gervase; "I will adopt it also, for your sake." - -"It is too supernatural for you," she said, paying no heed to the -amorous tone of his voice or the expressive tenderness of his eyes. - -"Never mind! Love will make me accept an army of ghosts, if necessary." - -"One of the chief tenets of my faith," she continued, "is the eternal -immortality of each individual Soul. Will you accept that?" - -"For the moment, certainly!" - -Her eyes glowed like great jewels as she proceeded: - -"The Egyptian cult I follow is very briefly explained. The Soul begins -in protoplasm without conscious individuality. It progresses through -various forms till individual consciousness is attained. Once attained, -it is never lost, but it lives on, pressing towards perfection, taking -upon itself various phases of existence according to the passions which -have most completely dominated it from the first. That is all. But -according to this theory, you might have lived in the world long ago, -and so might I: we might even have met; and for some reason or other we -may have become re-incarnated now. A disciple of my creed would give -you that as the reason why you sometimes imagine you have seen me -before." - -As she spoke, the dazed and troubled sensation he had once previously -experienced came upon him; he laid down the canvas he held and passed -his hand across his forehead bewilderedly. - -"Yes; very curious and fantastic. I've heard a great deal about the -doctrine of reincarnation. I don't believe in it,--I can't believe in -it! But if I could: if I could imagine I had ever met you in some -bygone time, and you were like what you are at this moment, I should -have loved you,--I MUST have loved you! You see I cannot leave the -subject of love alone; and your re-incarnation idea gives my fancy -something to work upon. So, beautiful Ziska, if your soul ever took the -form of a flower, I must have been its companion blossom; if it ever -paced the forest as a beast of prey, I must have been its mate; if it -ever was human before, then I must have been its lover! Do you like -such pretty follies? I will talk them by the hour." - -Here he rose, and with a movement that was half fierce and half tender, -he knelt beside her, taking her hands in his own. - -"I love you, Ziska! I cannot help myself. I am drawn to you by some -force stronger than my own will; but you need not be afraid of me--not -yet! As I said, I can wait. I can endure the mingled torture and -rapture of this sudden passion and make no sign, till my patience -tires, and then--then I will win you if I die for it!" - -He sprang up before she could speak a word in answer, and seizing his -canvas again, exclaimed gayly: - -"Now for the hues of morning and evening combined, to paint the -radiance of this wicked soul of love that so enthralls me! First, the -raven-black of midnight for the hair,--the lustre of the coldest, -brightest stars for eyes,--the blush-rose of early dawn for lips and -cheeks. Ah! How shall I make a real beginning of this marvel?" - -"It will be difficult, I fear," said Ziska slowly, with a faint, cold -smile; "and still more difficult, perchance, will be the end!" - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - - -The table d'hote at the Gezireh Palace Hotel had already begun when -Gervase entered the dining-room and sat down near Lady Fulkeward and -Dr. Dean. - -"You have missed the soup," said her ladyship, looking up at him with a -sweet smile. "All you artists are alike,--you have no idea whatever of -time. And how have you succeeded with that charming mysterious person, -the Princess Ziska?" - -Gervase kept his gaze steadily fixed on the table-cloth. He was -extremely pale, and had the air of one who has gone through some great -mental exhaustion. - -"I have not succeeded as well as I expected," he answered slowly. "I -think my hand must have lost its cunning. At any rate, whatever the -reason may be, Art has been defeated by Nature." - -He crumbled up the piece of bread near his plate in small portions with -a kind of involuntary violence in the action, and Dr. Dean, -deliberately drawing out a pair of spectacles from their case, adjusted -them, and surveyed him curiously. - -"You mean to say that you cannot paint the Princess's picture?" - -Gervase glanced up at him with a half-sullen, half-defiant expression. - -"I don't say that," he replied; "I can paint something--something which -you can call a picture if you like,--but there is no resemblance to the -Princess Ziska in it. She is beautiful, and I can get nothing of her -beauty,--I can only get the reflection of a face which is not hers." - -"How very curious!" exclaimed Lady Fulkeward. "Quite psychological, is -it not, Doctor? It is almost creepy!" and she managed to produce a -delicate shudder of her white shoulders without cracking the blanc de -perle enamel. "It will be something fresh for you to study." - -"Possibly it will--possibly," said the Doctor, still surveying Gervase -blandly through his round glasses; "but it isn't the first time I have -heard of painters who unconsciously produce other faces than those of -their sitters. I distinctly remember a case in point. A gentleman, -famous for his charities and general benevolence, had his portrait -painted by a great artist for presentation to the town-hall of his -native place, and the artist was quite unable to avoid making him unto -the likeness of a villain. It was quite a distressing affair; the -painter was probably more distressed than anybody about it, and he -tried by every possible means in his power to impart a truthful and -noble aspect to the countenance of the man who was known and admitted -to be a benefactor to his race. But it was all in vain: the portrait -when finished was the portrait of a stranger and a scoundrel. The -people for whom it was intended declared they would not have such a -libel on their generous friend hung up in their town-hall. The painter -was in despair, and there was going to be a general hubbub, when, lo -and behold the 'noble' personage himself was suddenly arrested for a -brutal murder committed twelve years back. He was found guilty and -hanged, and the painter kept the portrait that had so remarkably -betrayed the murderer's real nature, as a curiosity ever afterwards." - -"Is that a fact?" inquired a man who was seated at the other side of -the table, and who had listened with great interest to the story. - -"A positive fact," said the Doctor. "One of those many singular -circumstances which occur in life, and which are beyond all -explanation." - -Gervase moved restlessly; then filling for himself a glass of claret, -drained it off thirstily. - -"Something of the same kind has happened to me," he said with a hard, -mirthless laugh, "for out of the most perfect beauty I have only -succeeded in presenting an atrocity." - -"Dear me!" exclaimed Lady Fulkeward. "What a disappointing day you must -have had! But of course, you will try again; the Princess will surely -give you another sitting?" - -"Oh, yes! I shall certainly try again and yet again, and ever so many -times again," said Gervase, with a kind of angry obstinacy in his tone, -"the more so as she has told me I will never succeed in painting her." - -"She told you that, did she?" put in Dr. Dean, with an air of lively -interest. - -"Yes." - -Just then the handing round of fresh dishes and the clatter of knives -and forks effectually put a stop to the conversation for the time, and -Gervase presently glancing about him saw that Denzil Murray and his -sister were dining apart at a smaller table with young Lord Fulkeward -and Ross Courtney. Helen was looking her fairest and best that -evening--her sweet face, framed in its angel aureole of bright hair had -a singular look of pureness and truth expressed upon it rare to find in -any woman beyond her early teens. Unconsciously to himself, Gervase -sighed as he caught a view of her delicate profile, and Lady -Fulkeward's sharp ears heard the sound of that sigh. - -"Isn't that a charming little party over there?" she asked. "Young -people, you know! They always like to be together! That very sweet -girl, Miss Murray, was so much distressed about her brother -to-day,--something was the matter with him--a touch of fever, I -believe,--that she begged me to let Fulke dine with them in order to -distract Mr. Denzil's mind. Fulke is a dear boy, you know--very -consoling in his ways, though he says so little. Then Mr. Courtney -volunteered to join them, and there they are. The Chetwynd Lyles are -gone to a big dinner at the Continental this evening." - -"The Chetwynd Lyles--let me see. Who are they?" mused Gervase aloud, -"Do I know them?" - -"No,--that is, you have not been formally introduced," said Dr. Dean. -"Sir Chetwynd Lyle is the editor and proprietor of the London Daily -Dial, Lady Chetwynd Lyle is his wife, and the two elderly-youthful -ladies who appeared as 'Boulogne fishwives' last night at the ball are -his daughters." - -"Cruel man!" exclaimed Lady Fulkeward with a girlish giggle. "The idea -of calling those sweet girls, Muriel and Dolly, 'elderly-youthful!'" - -"What are they, my dear madam, what are they?" demanded the -imperturbable little savant. "'Elderly-youthful' is a very convenient -expression, and applies perfectly to people who refuse to be old and -cannot possibly be young." - -"Nonsense! I will not listen to you!" and her ladyship opened her -jewelled fan and spread it before her eyes to completely screen the -objectionable Doctor from view. "Don't you know your theories are quite -out of date? Nobody is old,--we all utterly refuse to be old! Why," and -she shut her fan with a sudden jerk, "I shall have you calling ME old -next." - -"Never, madam!" said Dr. Dean gallantly laying his hand upon his heart. -"You are quite an exception to the rule. You have passed through the -furnace of marriage and come out unscathed. Time has done its worst -with you, and now retreats, baffled and powerless; it can touch you no -more!" - -Whether this was meant as a compliment or the reverse it would have -been difficult to say, but Lady Fulkeward graciously accepted it as the -choicest flattery, and bowed, smiling and gratified. Dinner was now -drawing to its end, and people were giving their orders for coffee to -be served to them on the terrace and in the gardens, Gervase among the -rest. The Doctor turned to him. - -"I should like to see your picture of the Princess," he said,--"that is -if you have no objection." - -"Not the least in the world," replied Gervase,--"only it isn't the -Princess, it is somebody else." - -A faint shudder passed over him. The Doctor noticed it. - -"Talking of curious things," went on that irrepressible savant, "I -started hunting for a particular scarabeus to-day. I couldn't find it, -of course,--it generally takes years to find even a trifle that one -especially wants. But I came across a queer old man in one of the -curiosity-shops who told me that over at Karnak they had just -discovered a large fresco in one of the tombs describing the exploits -of the very man whose track I'm on--Araxes ..." - -Gervase started,--he knew not why. - -"What has Araxes to do with you?" he demanded. - -"Oh, nothing! But the Princess Ziska spoke of him as a great warrior in -the days of Amenhotep,--and she seems to be a great Egyptologist, and -to know many things of which we are ignorant. Then you know last night -she adopted the costume of a dancer of that period, named -Ziska-Charmazel. Well, now it appears that in one part of this fresco -the scene depicted is this very Ziska-Charmazel dancing before Araxes." - -Gervase listened with strained attention,--his heart beat thickly, as -though the Doctor were telling him of some horrible circumstance in -which he had an active part; whereas he had truly no interest at all in -the matter, except in so far as events of history are more or less -interesting to everyone. - -"Well?" he said after a pause. - -"Well," echoed Dr. Dean. "There is really nothing more to say beyond -that I want to find out everything I can concerning this Araxes, if -only for the reason that the charming Princess chose to impersonate his -lady-love last night. One must amuse one's self in one's own fashion, -even in Egypt, and this amuses ME." - -Gervase rose, feeling in his pocket for his cigarette-case. - -"Come," he said briefly, "I will show you my picture." - -He straightened his tall, fine figure and walked slowly across the room -to the table where Denzil Murray sat with his sister and friends. - -"Denzil," he said,--"I have made a strange portrait of the Princess -Ziska, and I'm going to show it to Dr. Dean. I should like you to see -it too. Will you come?" - -Denzil looked at him with a dark reproach in his eyes. - -"If you like," he answered shortly. - -"I do like!" and Gervase laid his hand on the young fellow's shoulder -with a kind pressure. "You will find it a piece of curious -disenchantment, as well as a proof of my want of skill. You are all -welcome to come and look at it except ..." here he hesitated,--"except -Miss Murray. I think--yes, I think it might possibly frighten Miss -Murray." - -Helen raised her eyes to his, but said nothing. - -"Oh, by Jove!" murmured Lord Fulkeward, feeling his moustache as usual. -"Then don't you come, Miss Murray. We'll tell you all about it -afterwards." - -"I have no curiosity on the subject," she said a trifle coldly. -"Denzil, you will find me in the drawing-room. I have a letter to write -home." - -With a slight salute she left them, Gervase watching the disappearance -of her graceful figure with a tinge of melancholy regret in his eyes. - -"It is evident Mademoiselle Helen does not like the Princess Ziska," he -observed. - -"Oh, well, as to that," said Fulkeward hastily, "you know you can't -expect women to lose their heads about her as men do. Beside, there's -something rather strange in the Princess's manner and appearance, and -perhaps Miss Murray doesn't take to her any more than I do." - -"Oh, then you are not one of her lovers?" queried Dr. Dean smiling. - -"No; are you?" - -"I? Good heavens, my dear young sir, I was never in love with a woman -in my life! That is, not what YOU would call in love. At the age of -sixteen I wrote verses to a mature young damsel of forty,--a woman with -a remarkably fine figure and plenty of it; she rejected my advances -with scorn, and I have never loved since!" - -They all laughed,--even Denzil Murray's sullen features cleared for the -moment into the brightness of a smile. - -"Where did you paint the Princess's picture?" inquired Ross Courtney -suddenly. - -"In her own house," replied Gervase. "But we were not alone, for the -fascinating fair one had some twenty or more armed servants within -call." There was a movement of surprise among his listeners, and he -went on: "Yes; Madame is very well protected, I assure you,--as much so -as if she were the first favorite in a harem. Come now, and see my -sketch." - -He led the way to a private sitting-room which he had secured for -himself in the hotel at almost fabulous terms. It was a small -apartment, but it had the advantage of a long French window which -opened out into the garden. Here, on an easel, was a canvas with its -back turned towards the spectator. - -"Sit down," said Gervase abruptly addressing his guests, "and be -prepared for a curiosity unlike anything you have ever seen before!" He -paused a moment, looking steadily at Dr. Dean. "Perhaps, Doctor, as you -are interested in psychic phenomena, you may be able to explain how I -got such a face on my canvas, for I cannot explain it to myself." - -He slowly turned the canvas round, and, scarcely heeding the -exclamation of amazement that broke simultaneously from all the men -present, stared at it himself, fascinated by a singular magnetism more -potent than either horror or fear. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - - -What a strange and awful face it was!--what a thing of distorted -passion and pain! What an agony was expressed in every line of the -features!--agony in which the traces of a divine beauty lingered only -to render the whole countenance more repellent and terrific! A kind of -sentient solemnity, mingled with wrath and terror, glared from the -painted eyes,--the lips, slightly parted in a cruel upward curve, -seemed about to utter a shriek of menace,--the hair, drooping in black, -thick clusters low on the brow, looked wet as with the dews of the -rigor mortis,--and to add to the mysterious horror of the whole -conception, the distinct outline of a death's-head was seen plainly -through the rose-brown flesh-tints. There was no real resemblance in -this horrible picture to the radiant and glowing loveliness of the -Princess Ziska, yet, at the same time, there was sufficient dim -likeness to make an imaginative person think it might be possible for -her to assume that appearance in death. Several minutes passed in utter -silence,--then Lord Fulkeward suddenly rose. - -"I'm going!" he said. "It's a beastly thing; it makes me sick!" - -"Grand merci!" said Gervase with a forced smile. - -"I really can't help it," declared the young man, turning his back to -the picture. "If I am rude, you must excuse it. I'm not very strong--my -mother will tell you I get put out very easily,--and I shall dream of -this horrid face all night if I don't give it a wide berth." - -And, without any further remark he stepped out through the open window -into the garden, and walked off. Gervase made no comment on his -departure; he turned his eyes towards Dr. Dean who, with spectacles on -nose, was staring hard at the picture with every sign of the deepest -interest. - -"Well, Doctor," he said, "you see it is not at all like the Princess." - -"Oh, yes it is!" returned the Doctor placidly. "If you could imagine -the Princess's face in torture, it would be like her. It is the kind of -expression she might wear if she suddenly met with a violent end." - -"But why should I paint her so?" demanded Gervase. "She was perfectly -tranquil; and her attitude was most picturesquely composed. I sketched -her as I thought I saw her,--how did this tortured head come on my -canvas?" - -The Doctor scratched his chin thoughtfully. It was certainly a problem. -He stared hard at Gervase, as though searching for the clue to the -mystery in the handsome artist's own face. Then he turned to Denzil -Murray, who had not stirred or spoken. - -"What do you think of it, eh, Denzil?" he asked. - -The young man started as from a dream. - -"I don't know what to think of it." - -"And you?" said the Doctor, addressing Ross Courtney. - -"I? Oh, I am of the same opinion as Fulkeward,--I think it is a -horrible thing. And the curious part of the matter is that it is like -the Princess Ziska, and yet totally unlike. Upon my word, you know, it -is a very unpleasant picture." - -Dr. Dean got up and paced the room two or three times, his brows -knitted in a heavy frown. Suddenly he stopped in front of Gervase. - -"Tell me," he said, "have you any recollection of ever having met the -Princess Ziska before?" - -Gervase looked puzzled, then answered slowly: - -"No, I have no actual recollection of the kind. At the same time, I -admit to you that there is something about her which has always struck -me as being familiar. The tone of her voice and the peculiar cadence of -her laughter particularly affect me in this way. Last night when I was -dancing with her, I wondered whether I had ever come across her as a -model in one of the studios in Paris or Rome." - -The Doctor listened to him attentively, watching him narrowly the -while. But he shook his head incredulously at the idea of the Princess -ever having posed as a model. - -"No, no, that won't do!" he said. "I do not believe she was ever in the -model business. Think again. You are now a man in the prime of life, -Monsieur Gervase, but look back to your early youth,--the period when -young men do wild, reckless, and often wicked things,--did you ever in -that thoughtless time break a woman's heart?" - -Gervase flushed, and shrugged his shoulders. - -"Pardieu! I may have done! Who can tell? But if I did, what would that -have to do with this?" and he tapped the picture impatiently. - -The Doctor sat down and smacked his lips with a peculiar air of -enjoyment. - -"It would have a great deal to do with it," he answered, "that is, -psychologically speaking. I have known of such cases. We will argue the -point out systematically thus:--Suppose that you, in your boyhood, had -wronged some woman, and suppose that woman had died. You might imagine -you had got rid of that woman. But if her love was very strong and her -sense of outrage very bitter, I must tell you that you have not got rid -of her by any means, moreover, you never will get rid of her. And why? -Because her Soul, like all Souls, is imperishable. Now, putting it as a -mere supposition, and for the sake of the argument, that you feel a -certain admiration for the Princess Ziska, an admiration which might -possibly deepen into something more than platonic, ... "--here Denzil -Murray looked up, his eyes glowing with an angry pain as he fixed them -on Gervase,--"why then the Soul of the other woman you once wronged -might come between you and the face of the new attraction and cause you -to unconsciously paint the tortured look of the injured and unforgiving -Spirit on the countenance of the lovely fascinator whose charms are -just beginning to ensnare you. I repeat, I have known of such cases." -And, unheeding the amazed and incredulous looks of his listeners, the -little Doctor folded both his short arms across his chest, and hugged -himself in the exquisite delight of his own strange theories." The fact -is," he continued," you cannot get rid of ghosts! They are all about -us--everywhere! Sometimes they take forms, sometimes they are content -to remain invisible. But they never fail to make their presence felt. -Often during the performance of some great piece of music they drift -between the air and the melody, making the sounds wilder and more -haunting, and freezing the blood of the listener with a vague agony and -chill. Sometimes they come between us and our friends, mysteriously -forbidding any further exchange of civilities or sympathies, and -occasionally they meet us alone and walk and talk with us invisibly. -Generally they mean well, but sometimes they mean ill. And the only -explanation I can offer you, Monsieur Gervase, as to the present -picture problem is that a ghost must have come between you and your -canvas!" - -Gervase laughed loudly. - -"My good friend, you are an adept in the art of pleading the -impossible! You must excuse me; I am a sceptic; and I hope I am also in -possession of my sober reason,--therefore, you can hardly wonder at my -entirely refusing to accept such preposterous theories as those you -appear to believe in." - -Dr. Dean gave him a civil little bow. - -"I do not ask you to accept them, my dear sir! I state my facts, and -you can take them or leave them, just as you please. You yourself can -offer no explanation of the singular way in which this picture has been -produced; I offer one which is perfectly tenable with the discoveries -of psychic science,--and you dismiss it as preposterous. That being the -case, I should recommend you to cut up this canvas and try your hand -again on the same subject." - -"Of course, I shall try again," retorted Gervase. "But I do not think I -shall destroy this first sketch. It is a curiosity in its way; and it -has a peculiar fascination for me. Do you notice how thoroughly -Egyptian the features are? They are the very contour of some of the -faces on the recently-discovered frescoes." - -"Oh, I noticed that at once," said the Doctor; "but that is not -remarkable, seeing that you yourself are quite of an Egyptian type, -though a Frenchman,--so much so, in fact, that many people in this -hotel have commented on it." - -Gervase said nothing, but slowly turned the canvas round with its face -to the wall. - -"You have seen enough of it, I suppose?" he inquired of Denzil Murray. - -"More than enough!" - -Gervase smiled. - -"It ought to disenchant you," he said in a lower tone. - -"But it is a libel on her beauty,--it is not in the least like her," -returned Murray coldly. - -"Not in the very least? Are you sure? My dear Denzil, you know as well -as I do that there IS a likeness, combined with a dreadful unlikeness; -and it is that which troubles both of us. I assure you, my good boy, I -am as sorry for you as I am for myself,--for I feel that this woman -will be the death of one or both of us!" - -Denzil made no reply, and presently they all strolled out in the garden -and lit their cigars and cigarettes, with the exception of Dr. Dean who -never smoked and never drank anything stronger than water. - -"I am going to get up a party for the Nile," he said as he turned his -sharp, ferret-like eyes upwards to the clear heavens; "and I shall take -the Princess into my confidence. In fact, I have written to her about -it to-day. I hear she has a magnificent electric dahabeah, and if she -will let us charter it. ..." - -"She won't," said Denzil hastily, "unless she goes with it herself." - -"You seem to know a great deal about her," observed Dr. Dean -indulgently, "and why should she not go herself? She is evidently well -instructed in the ancient history of Egypt, and, as she reads the -hieroglyphs, she will be a delightful guide and a most valuable -assistant to me in my researches." - -"What researches are you engaged upon now?" inquired Courtney. - -"I am hunting down a man called Araxes," answered the Doctor. "He -lived, so far as I can make out, some four or five thousand years ago, -more or less; and I want to find out what he did and how he died, and -when I know how he died, then I mean to discover where he is buried. If -possible, I shall excavate him. I also want to find the remains of -Ziska-Charmazel, the lady impersonated by our charming friend the -Princess last night,--the dancer, who, it appears from a -recently-discovered fresco, occupied most of her time in dancing before -this same Araxes and making herself generally agreeable to him." - -"What an odd fancy!" exclaimed Denzil. "How can a man and woman dead -five thousand years ago be of any interest to you?" - -"What interest has Rameses?" demanded the Doctor politely, "or any of -the Ptolemies? Araxes, like Rameses, may lead to fresh discoveries in -Egypt, for all we know. One name is as good as another,--and each -odoriferous mummy has its own mystery." - -They all came just then to a pause in their walk, Gervase stopping to -light a fresh cigarette. The rays of the rising moon fell upon him as -he stood, a tall and stately figure, against a background of palms, and -shone on his dark features with a touch of grayish-green luminance that -gave him for the moment an almost spectral appearance. Dr. Dean glanced -at him with a smile. - -"What a figure of an Egyptian, is he not!" he said to Courtney and -Denzil Murray. "Look at him! What height and symmetry! What a world of -ferocity in those black, slumbrous eyes! Yes, Monsieur Gervase, I am -talking about you. I am admiring you!" - -"Trop d'honneur!" murmured Gervase, carefully shielding with one hand -the match with which he was kindling his cigarette. - -"Yes," continued the Doctor, "I am admiring you. Being a little man -myself, I naturally like tall men, and as an investigator of psychic -forms I am immensely interested when I see a finely-made body in which -the soul lies torpid. That is why you unconsciously compose for me a -wonderful subject of study. I wonder now, how long this torpidity in -the psychic germ has lasted in you? It commenced, of course, originally -in protoplasm; but it must have continued through various low forms and -met with enormous difficulties in attaining to individual consciousness -as man,--because even now it is scarcely conscious." - -Gervase laughed. - -"Why, that beginning of the soul in protoplasm is part of a creed which -the Princess Ziska was trying to teach me to-day," he said lightly. -"It's all no use. I don't believe in the soul; if I did, I should be a -miserable man." - -"Why?" asked Murray. - -"Why? Because, my dear fellow, I should be rather afraid of my future. -I should not like to live again; I might have to remember certain -incidents which I would rather forget. There is your charming sister, -Mademoiselle Helen! I must go and talk to her,--her conversation always -does me good; and after that picture which I have been unfortunate -enough to produce, her presence will be as soothing as the freshness of -morning after an unpleasant nightmare." - -He moved away; Denzil Murray with Courtney followed him. Dr. Dean -remained behind, and presently sitting down in a retired corner of the -garden alone, he took out a small pocket-book and stylographic pen and -occupied himself for more than half an hour in busily writing till he -had covered two or three pages with his small, neat caligraphy. - -"It is the most interesting problem I ever had the chance of studying!" -he murmured half aloud when he had finished, "Of course, if my -researches into the psychic spheres of action are worth anything, it -can only be one case out of thousands. Thousands? Aye, perhaps -millions! Great heavens! Among what terrific unseen forces we live! And -in exact proportion to every man's arrogant denial of the 'Divinity -that shapes our ends, so will be measured out to him the revelation of -the invisible. Strange that the human race has never entirely realized -as yet the depth of meaning in the words describing hell: 'Where the -worm dieth not, and where the flame is never quenched. The 'worm' is -Retribution, the 'flame' is the immortal Spirit,--and the two are -forever striving to escape from the other. Horrible! And yet there are -men who believe in neither one thing nor the other, and reject the -Redemption that does away with both! God forgive us all our sins,--and -especially the sins of pride and presumption!" - -And with a shade of profound melancholy on his features, the little -Doctor put by his note-book, and, avoiding all the hotel loungers on -the terrace and elsewhere, retired to his own room and went to bed. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - - -The next day when Armand Gervase went to call on the Princess Ziska he -was refused admittance. The Nubian attendant who kept watch and ward at -her gates, hearing the door-bell ring, contented himself with thrusting -his ugly head through an open upper window and shouting-- - -"Madame est sortie!" - -"Ou donc?" called Gervase in answer. - -"A la campagne--le desert--les pyramides!" returned the Nubian, at the -same time banging the lattice to in order to prevent the possibility of -any further conversation. And Gervase, standing in the street -irresolutely for a moment, fancied he heard a peal of malicious -laughter in the distance. - -"Beast!" he muttered, "I must try him with a money bribe next time I -get hold of him. I wonder what I shall do with myself now?--haunted and -brain-ridden as I am by this woman and her picture?" - -The hot sun glared in his eyes and made them ache,--the rough stones of -the narrow street were scorching to his feet. He began to move slowly -away with a curious faint sensation of giddiness and sickness upon him, -when the sound of music floating from the direction of the Princess -Ziska's palace brought him to a sudden standstill. It was a strange, -wild melody, played on some instrument with seemingly muffled strings. -A voice with a deep, throbbing thrill of sweetness in it began to sing: - - Oh, for the passionless peace of the Lotus-Lily! - It floats in a waking dream on the waters chilly, - With its leaves unfurled - To the wondering world, - Knowing naught of the sorrow and restless pain - That burns and tortures the human brain; - Oh, for the passionless peace of the Lotus-Lily! - - Oh, for the pure cold heart of the Lotus-Lily! - Bared to the moon on the waters dark and chilly. - A star above - Is its only love, - And one brief sigh of its scented breath - Is all it will ever know of Death; - Oh, for the pure cold heart of the Lotus-Lily! - -When the song ceased, Gervase raised his eyes from the ground on which -he had fixed them in a kind of brooding stupor, and stared at the -burning blue of the sky as vaguely and wildly as a sick man in the -delirium of fever. - -"God! What ails me!" he muttered, supporting himself with one hand -against the black and crumbling wall near which he stood. "Why should -that melody steal away my strength and make me think of things with -which I have surely no connection! What tricks my imagination plays me -in this city of the Orient--I might as well be hypnotized! What have I -to do with dreams of war and triumph and rapine and murder, and what is -the name of Ziska-Charmazel to me?" - -He shook himself with the action of a fine brute that has been stung by -some teasing insect, and, mastering his emotions by an effort, walked -away. But he was so absorbed in strange thoughts, that he stumbled up -against Denzil Murray in a side street on the way to the Gezireh Palace -Hotel without seeing him, and would have passed him altogether had not -Denzil somewhat fiercely said: - -"Stop!" - -Gervase looked at him bewilderedly. - -"Why, Denzil, is it you? My dear fellow, forgive me my brusquerie! I -believe I have got a stroke of the sun, or something of the sort; I -assure you I hardly know what I am doing or where I am going!" - -"I believe it!" said Denzil, hoarsely. "You are as mad as I am--for -love!" - -Gervase smiled; a slight incredulous smile. - -"You think so? I am not sure! If love makes a man as thoroughly -unstrung and nervous as I am to-day, then love is a very bad illness." - -"It is the worst illness in the world," said Denzil, speaking hurriedly -and wildly. "The most cruel and torturing! And there is no cure for it -save death. My God, Gervase! You were my friend but yesterday! I never -should have thought it possible to hate you!" - -"Yet you do hate me?" queried Gervase, still smiling a little. - -"Hate you? I could kill you! You have been with HER!" - -Quietly Gervase took his arm. - -"My good Denzil, you are mistaken! I confess to you frankly I should -have been with HER--you mean the Princess Ziska, of course--had it been -possible. But she has fled the city for the moment--at least, according -to the corpse-like Nubian who acts as porter." - -"He lies!" exclaimed Denzil, hotly. "I saw her this morning." - -"I hope you improved your opportunity," said Gervase, imperturbably. -"Anyway, at the present moment she is not visible." - -A silence fell between them for some minutes; then Denzil spoke again. - -"Gervase, it is no use, I cannot stand this sort of thing. We must have -it out. What does it all mean?" - -"It is difficult to explain, my dear boy," answered Gervase, half -seriously, half mockingly. "It means, I presume, that we are both in -love with the same woman, and that we both intend to try our chances -with her. But, as I told you the other night, I do not see why we -should quarrel about it. Your intentions towards the Princess are -honorable--mine are dishonorable, and I shall make no secret of them. -If you win her, I shall ..." - -He paused, and there was a sudden look in his eyes which gave them a -sombre darkness, darker than their own natural color. - -"You shall--what?" asked Denzil. - -"Do something desperate," replied Gervase. "What the something will be -depends on the humor of the moment. A tiger balked of his prey is not -an agreeable beast; a strong man deprived of the woman he passionately -desires is a little less agreeable even than the tiger. But let us -adopt the policy of laissez-faire. Nothing is decided; the fair one -cares for neither of us; let us be friends until she makes her choice." - -"We cannot be friends," said Denzil, sternly. - -"Good! Let us be foes then, but courteous, even in our quarrel, dear -boy. If we must kill each other, let us do it civilly. To fly at each -other's throats would be purely barbaric. We owe a certain duty to -civilization; things have progressed since the days of Araxes." - -Denzil stared at him gloomily. - -"Araxes is Dr. Dean's fad," he said. "I don't know anything about -Egyptian mummies, and don't want to know. My matter is with the -present, and not with the past." - -They had reached the hotel by this time, and turned into the gardens -side by side. - -"You understand?" repeated Denzil. "We cannot be friends!" - -Gervase gave him a profoundly courteous salute, and the two separated. - -Later on in the afternoon, about an hour before dinner-time, Gervase, -strolling on the terrace of the hotel alone, saw Helen Murray seated at -a little distance under some trees, with a book in her hand which she -was not reading. There were tears in her eyes, but as he approached her -she furtively dashed them away and greeted him with a poor attempt at a -smile. - -"You have a moment to spare me?" he asked, sitting down beside her. - -She bent her head in acquiescence. - -"I am a very unhappy man, Mademoiselle Helen," he began, looking at her -with a certain compassionate tenderness as he spoke. "I want your -sympathy, but I know I do not deserve it." - -Helen remained silent. A faint flush crimsoned her cheeks, but her eyes -were veiled under the long lashes--she thought he could not see them. - -"You remember," he went on, "our pleasant times in Scotland? Ah, it is -a restful place, your Highland home, with the beautiful purple hills -rolling away in the distance, and the glorious moors covered with -fragrant heather, and the gurgling of the river that runs between birch -and fir and willow, making music all day long for those who have the -ears to listen, and the hearts to understand the pretty love tune it -sings! You know Frenchmen always have more or less sympathy with the -Scotch--some old association, perhaps, with the romantic times of Mary -Queen of Scots, when the light and changeful fancies of Chastelard and -his brother poets and lutists made havoc in the hearts of many a -Highland maiden. What is that bright drop on your hand, Helen?--are you -crying?" He waited a moment, and his voice was softer and more -tremulous. "Dear girl, I am not worthy of tears. I am not good enough -for you." - -He gave her time to recover her momentary emotion and then went on, -still softly and tenderly: - -"Listen, Helen. I want you to believe me and forgive me, if you can. I -know--I remember those moonlight evenings in Scotland--holy and happy -evenings, as sweet as flower-scented pages in a young girl's missal; -yes, and I did not mean to play with you, Helen, or wound your gentle -heart. I almost loved you!" He spoke the words passionately, and for a -moment she raised her eyes and looked at him in something of fear as -well as sorrow. "'Yes,' I said to my self, 'this woman, so true and -pure and fair, is a bride for a king; and if I can win her--if!' Ah, -there my musings stopped. But I came to Egypt chiefly to meet you -again, knowing that you and your brother were in Cairo. How was I to -know, how was I to guess that this horrible thing would happen?" - -Helen gazed at him wonderingly. - -"What horrible thing?" she asked, falteringly, the rich color coming -and going on her face, and her heart beating violently as she put the -question. - -His eyes flashed. - -"This," he answered. "The close and pernicious enthralment of a woman I -never met till the night before last; a woman whose face haunts me; a -woman who drags me to her side with the force of a magnet, there to -grovel like a brain-sick fool and plead with her for a love which I -already know is poison to my soul! Helen, Helen! You do not -understand--you will never understand! Here, in the very air I breathe, -I fancy I can trace the perfume she shakes from her garments as she -moves; something indescribably fascinating yet terrible attracts me to -her; it is an evil attraction, I know, but I cannot resist it. There is -something wicked in every man's nature; I am conscious enough that -there is something detestably wicked in mine, and I have not sufficient -goodness to overbalance it. And this woman,--this silent, gliding, -glittering-eyed creature that has suddenly taken possession of my -fancy--she overcomes me in spite of myself; she makes havoc of all the -good intentions of my life. I admit it--I confess it!" - -"You are speaking of the Princess Ziska?" asked Helen, tremblingly. - -"Of whom else should I speak?" he responded, dreamily. "There is no one -like her; probably there never was anyone like her, except, perhaps, -Ziska-Charmazel!" - -As the name passed his lips, he sprang hastily up and stood amazed, as -though some sudden voice had called him. Helen Murray looked at him in -alarm. - -"Oh, what is it?" she exclaimed. - -He forced a laugh. - -"Nothing--nothing--but a madness! I suppose it is all a part of my -strange malady. Your brother is stricken with the same fever. Surely -you know that?" - -"Indeed I do know it," Helen answered, "to my sorrow!" - -He regarded her intently. Her face in its pure outline and quiet -sadness of expression touched him more than he cared to own even to -himself. - -"My dear Helen," he said, with an effort at composure, "I have been -talking wildly; you must forgive me! Don't think about me at all; I am -not worth it! Denzil has taken it into his head to quarrel with me on -account of the Princess Ziska, but I assure you I will not quarrel with -him. He is infatuated, and so am I. The best thing for all of us to do -would be to leave Egypt instantly; I feel that instinctively, only we -cannot do it. Something holds us here. You will never persuade Denzil -to go, and I--I cannot persuade myself to go. There is a clinging -sweetness in the air for me; and there are vague suggestions, memories, -dreams, histories--wonderful things which hold me spell-bound! I wish I -could analyze them, recognize them, or understand them. But I cannot, -and there, perhaps, is their secret charm. Only one thing grieves me, -and that is, that I have, perhaps, unwittingly, in some thoughtless -way, given you pain; is it so, Helen?" - -She rose quickly, and with a quiet dignity held out her hand. - -"No, Monsieur Gervase," she said, "it is not so. I am not one of those -women who take every little idle word said by men in jest au grand -serieux! You have always been a kind and courteous friend, and if you -ever fancied you had a warmer feeling for me, as you say, I am sure you -were mistaken. We often delude ourselves in these matters. I wish, for -your sake, I could think the Princess Ziska worthy of the love she so -readily inspires. But,--I cannot! My brother's infatuation for her is -to me terrible. I feel it will break his heart,--and mine!" A little -half sob caught her breath and interrupted her; she paused, but -presently went on with an effort at calmness: "You talk of our leaving -Egypt; how I wish that were possible! But I spoke to Denzil about it on -the night of the ball, and he was furious with me for the mere -suggestion. It seems like an evil fate." - -"It IS an evil fate," said Gervase gloomily. "Enfin, my dear Helen, we -cannot escape from it,--at least, _I_ cannot. But I never was intended -for good things, not even for a lasting love. A lasting love I feel -would bore me. You look amazed; you believe in lasting love? So do many -sweet women. But do you know what symbol I, as an artist, would employ -were I asked to give my idea of Love on my canvas?" - -Helen smiled sadly and shook her head. - -"I would paint a glowing flame," said Gervase dreamily. "A flame -leaping up from the pit of hell to the height of heaven, springing in -darkness, lost in light; and flying into the centre of that flame -should be a white moth--a blind, soft, mad thing with beating, -tremulous wings,--that should be Love! Whirled into the very heart of -the ravening fire,--crushed, shrivelled out of existence in one wild, -rushing rapture--that is what Love must be to me! One cannot prolong -passion over fifty years, more or less, of commonplace routine, as -marriage would have us do. The very notion is absurd. Love is like a -choice wine of exquisite bouquet and intoxicating flavor; it is the -most maddening draught in the world, but you cannot drink it every day. -No, my dear Helen; I am not made for a quiet life,--nor for a long one, -I fancy." - -His voice unconsciously sank into a melancholy tone, and for one moment -Helen's composure nearly gave way. She loved him as true women love, -with that sublime self-sacrifice which only desires the happiness of -the thing beloved; yet a kind of insensate rage stirred for once in her -gentle soul to think that the mere sight of a strange woman with dark -eyes,--a woman whom no one knew anything about, and who was by some -people deemed a mere adventuress,--should have so overwhelmed this man -whose genius she had deemed superior to fleeting impressions. -Controlling the tears that rose to her eyes and threatened to fall, she -said gently, - -"Good-bye, Monsieur Gervase!" - -He started as from a reverie. - -"Good-bye, Helen! Some day you will think kindly of me again?" - -"I think kindly of you now," she answered tremulously; then, not -trusting herself to say any more, she turned swiftly and left him. - -"The flame and the moth!" he mused, watching her slight figure till it -had disappeared. "Yes, it is the only fitting symbol. Love must be -always so. Sudden, impetuous, ungovernable, and then--the end! To -stretch out the divine passion over life-long breakfasts and dinners! -It would be intolerable to me. Lord Fulkeward could do that sort of -thing; his chest is narrow, and his sentiments are as limited as his -chest. He would duly kiss his wife every morning and evening, and he -would not analyze the fact that no special thrill of joy stirred in him -at the action. What should he do with thrills of joy--this poor -Fulkeward? And yet it is likely he will marry Helen. Or will it be the -Courtney animal,--the type of man whose one idea is 'to arise, kill, -and eat?' "Ah, well!" and he sighed. "She is not for me, this maiden -grace of womanhood. If I married her, I should make her miserable. I am -made for passion, not for peace." - -He started as he heard a step behind him, and turning, saw Dr. Dean. -The worthy little savant looked worried and preoccupied. - -"I have had a letter from the Princess Ziska," he said, without any -preliminary. "She has gone to secures rooms at the Mena House Hotel, -which is situated close to the Pyramids. She regrets she cannot enter -into the idea of taking a trip up the Nile. She has no time, she says, -as she is soon leaving Cairo. But she suggests that we should make up a -party for the Mena House while she is staying there, as she can, so she -tells me, make the Pyramids much more interesting for us by her -intimate knowledge of them. Now, to me this is a very tempting offer, -but I should not care to go alone." - -"The Murrays will go, I am sure," murmured Gervase lazily. "At any -rate, Denzil will." - -The Doctor looked at him narrowly. - -"If Denzil goes, so will you go," he said. "Thus there are two already -booked for company. And I fancy the Fulkewards might like the idea." - -"The Princess is leaving Cairo?" queried Gervase presently, as though -it were an after thought. - -"So she informs me in her letter. The party which is to come off on -Wednesday night is her last reception." - -Gervase was silent a moment. Then he said: - -"Have you told Denzil?" - -"Not yet." - -"Better do so then," and Gervase glanced up at the sky, now glowing red -with a fiery sunset. "He wants to propose, you know." - -"Good God!" cried the Doctor, sharply, "If he proposes to that woman. -..." - -"Why should he not?" demanded Gervase. "Is she not as ripe for love and -fit for marriage as any other of her sex?" - -"Her sex!" echoed the Doctor grimly. "Her sex!--There!--for heaven's -sake don't talk to me!--leave me alone! The Princess Ziska is like no -woman living; she has none of the sentiments of a woman,--and the -notion of Denzil's being such a fool as to think of proposing to -her--Oh, leave me alone, I tell you! Let me worry this out!" - -And clapping his hat well down over his eyes, he began to walk away in -a strange condition of excitement, which he evidently had some -difficulty in suppressing. Suddenly, however, he turned, came back and -tapped Gervase smartly on the chest. - -"YOU are the man for the Princess," he said impressively. "There is a -madness in you which you call love for her; you are her fitting mate, -not that poor boy, Denzil Murray. In certain men and women spirit leaps -to spirit,--note responds to note--and if all the world were to -interpose its trumpery bulk, nothing could prevent such tumultuous -forces rushing together. Follow your destiny, Monsieur Gervase, but do -not ruin another man's life on the way. Follow your destiny,--complete -it,--you are bound to do so,--but in the havoc and wildness to come, -for God's sake, let the innocent go free!" - -He spoke with extraordinary solemnity, and Gervase stared at him in -utter bewilderment and perplexity, not understanding in the least what -he meant. But before he could interpose a word or ask a question, Dr. -Dean had gone. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - - -The next two or three days passed without any incident of interest -occurring to move the languid calm and excite the fleeting interest of -the fashionable English and European visitors who were congregated at -the Gezireh Palace Hotel. The anxious flirtations of Dolly and Muriel -Chetwynd Lyle afforded subjects of mirth to the profane,--the -wonderfully youthful toilettes of Lady Fulkeward provided several -keynotes from which to strike frivolous conversation,--and when the -great painter, Armand Gervase, actually made a sketch of her ladyship -for his own amusement, and made her look about sixteen, and girlish at -that, his popularity knew no bounds. Everyone wanted to give him a -commission, particularly the elderly fair, and he could have made a -fortune had he chosen, after the example set him by the English -academicians, by painting the portraits of ugly nobodies who were ready -to pay any price to be turned out as handsome somebodies. But he was -too restless and ill at ease to apply himself steadily to work,--the -glowing skies of Egypt, the picturesque groups of natives to be seen at -every turn,--the curious corners of old Cairo--these made no impression -upon his mind at all, and when he was alone, he passed whole half hours -staring at the strange picture he had made of the Princess Ziska, -wherein the face of death seemed confronting him through a mask of -life. And he welcomed with a strong sense of relief and expectation the -long-looked-for evening of the Princess's "reception," to which many of -the visitors in Cairo had been invited since a fortnight, and which -those persons who always profess to be "in the know," even if they are -wallowing in ignorance, declared would surpass any entertainment ever -given during the Cairene season. - -The night came at last. It was exceedingly sultry, but bright and -clear, and the moon shone with effective brilliance on the -gayly-attired groups of people that between nine and ten o'clock began -to throng the narrow street in which the carved tomb-like portal of the -Princess Ziska's residence was the most conspicuous object. Lady -Chetwynd Lyle, remarkable for bad taste in her dress and the disposal -of her diamonds, stared in haughty amazement at the Nubian, who saluted -her and her daughters with the grin peculiar to his uninviting cast of -countenance, and swept into the courtyard attended by her husband with -an air as though she imagined her presence gave the necessary flavor of -"good style" to the proceedings. She was followed by Lady Fulkeward, -innocently clad in white and wearing a knot of lilies on her -prettily-enamelled left shoulder, Lord Fulkeward, Denzil Murray and his -sister. Helen also wore white, but though she was in the twenties and -Lady Fulkeward was in the sixties, the girl had so much sadness in her -face and so much tragedy in her soft eyes that she looked, if anything, -older than the old woman. Gervase and Dr. Dean arrived together, and -found themselves in a brilliant, crushing crowd of people, all of -different nationalities and all manifesting a good deal of impatience -because they were delayed a few minutes in an open court, where a -couple of stone lions with wings were the only spectators of their -costumes. - -"Most singular behavior!" said Lady Chetwynd Lyle, snorting and -sniffing, "to keep us waiting outside like this! The Princess has no -idea of European manners!" - -As she spoke, a sudden blaze of light flamed on the scene, and twenty -tall Egyptian servants in white, with red turbans, carrying lighted -torches and marching two by two crossed the court, and by mute yet -stately gestures invited the company to follow. And the company did -follow in haste, with scramble and rudeness, as is the way of "European -manners" nowadays; and presently, having been relieved of their cloaks -and wrappings, stood startled and confounded in a huge hall richly -adorned with silk and cloth of gold hangings, where, between two bronze -sphinxes, the Princess Ziska, attired wonderfully in a dim, pale rose -color, with flecks of jewels flashing from her draperies here and -there, waited to receive her guests. Like a queen she stood,--behind -her towered a giant palm, and at her feet were strewn roses and -lotus-lilies. On either side of her, seated on the ground, were young -girls gorgeously clad and veiled to the eyes in the Egyptian fashion, -and as the staring, heated and impetuous swarm of "travelling" English -and Americans came face to face with her in her marvellous beauty, they -were for the moment stricken spellbound, and could scarcely summon up -the necessary assurance to advance and take the hand she outstretched -to them in welcome. She appeared not to see the general embarrassment, -and greeted all who approached her with courteous ease and composure, -speaking the few words which every graceful hostess deems adequate -before "passing on" her visitors. And presently music began,--music -wild and fantastic, of a character unknown to modern fashionable ears, -yet strangely familiar to Armand Gervase, who started at the first -sound of it, and seemed enthralled. - -"That is not an ordinary orchestra," said Dr. Dean in his ear. "The -instruments are ancient, and the form of melody is barbaric." - -Gervase answered nothing, for the Princess Ziska just then approached -them. - -"Come into the Red Saloon," she said. "I am persuading my guests to -pass on there. I have an old bas-relief on the walls which I would like -you to see,--you, especially, Dr. Dean!--for you are so learned in -antiquities. I hear you are trying to discover traces of Araxes?" - -"I am," replied the Doctor. "You interested me very much in his -history." - -"He was a great man," said the Princess, slowly piloting them as she -spoke, without hurry and with careful courtesy, through the serried -ranks of the now freely chattering and animated company. "Much greater -than any of your modern heroes. But he had two faults; faults which -frequently accompany the plentitude of power,--cruelty and selfishness. -He betrayed and murdered the only woman that ever loved him, -Ziska-Charmazel." - -"Murdered her!" exclaimed Dr. Dean. "How?" - -"Oh, it is only a legend!" and the Princess smiled, turning her dark -eyes with a bewitching languor on Gervase, who, for some reason or -other which he could not explain, felt as if he were walking in a dream -on the edge of a deep chasm of nothingness, into which he must -presently sink to utter destruction. "All these old histories happened -so long ago that they are nothing but myths now to the present -generation." - -"Time does not rob any incident of its interest to me," said Dr. Dean. -"Ages hence Queen Victoria will be as much a doubtful potentate as King -Lud. To the wise student of things there is no time and no distance. -All history from the very beginning is like a wonderful chain in which -no link is ever really broken, and in which every part fits closely to -the other part,--though why the chain should exist at all is a mystery -we cannot solve. Yet I am quite certain that even our late friend -Araxes has his connection with the present, if only for the reason that -he lived in the past." - -"How do you argue out that theory!" asked Gervase with sudden interest. - -"How do you argue it? The question is, how can you argue at all about -anything that is so plain and demonstrated a fact? The doctrine of -evolution proves it. Everything that we were once has its part in us -now. Suppose, if you like, that we were originally no more than shells -on the shore,--some remnant of the nature of the shell must be in us at -this moment. Nothing is lost,--nothing is wasted,--not even a thought. -I carry my theories very far," pursued the Doctor, looking keenly from -one to the other of his silent companions as they walked beside him -through a long corridor towards the Red Saloon, which could be seen, -brilliantly lit up and thronged with people. "Very far indeed, -especially in regard to matters of love. I maintain that if it is -decreed that the soul of a man and the soul of a woman must meet,--must -rush together,--not all the forces of the universe can hinder them; -aye, even if they were, for some conventional cause or circumstance -themselves reluctant to consummate their destiny, it would -nevertheless, despite them, be consummated. For mark you,--in some form -or other they have rushed together before! Whether as flames in the -air, or twining leaves on a tree, or flowers in a field, they have felt -the sweetness and fitness of each other's being in former lives,--and -the craving sense of that sweetness and fitness can never be done away -with,--never! Not as long as this present universe lasts! It is a -terrible thing," continued the Doctor in a lower tone, "a terrible -fatality,--the desire of love. In some cases it is a curse; in others, -a divine and priceless blessing. The results depend entirely on the -temperaments of the human creatures possessed by its fever. When it -kindles, rises and burns towards Heaven in a steady flame of -ever-brightening purity and faith, then it makes marriage the most -perfect union on earth,--the sweetest and most blessed companionship; -but when it is a mere gust of fire, bright and fierce as the sudden -leaping light of a volcano, then it withers everything at a -touch,--faith, honor, truth,--and dies into dull ashes in which no -spark remains to warm or inspire man's higher nature. Better death than -such a love,--for it works misery on earth; but who can tell what -horrors it may not create Hereafter!" - -The Princess looked at him with a strange, weird gleam in her dark eyes. - -"You are right," she said. "It is just the Hereafter that men never -think of. I am glad you, at least, acknowledge the truth of the life -beyond death." - -"I am bound to acknowledge it," returned the Doctor; "inasmuch as I -know it exists." - -Gervase glanced at him with a smile, in which there was something of -contempt. - -"You are very much behind the age, Doctor," he remarked lightly. - -"Very much behind indeed," agreed Dr. Dean composedly. "The age rushes -on too rapidly for me, and gives no time to the consideration of things -by the way. I stop,--I take breathing space in which to think; life -without thought is madness, and I desire to have no part in a mad age." - -At that moment they entered the Red Saloon, a stately apartment, which -was entirely modelled after the most ancient forms of Egyptian -architecture. The centre of the vast room was quite clear of furniture, -so that the Princess Ziska's guests went wandering up and down, to and -fro, entirely at their ease, without crush or inconvenience, and -congregated in corners for conversation; though if they chose they -could recline on low divans and gorgeously-cushioned benches ranged -against the walls and sheltered by tall palms and flowering exotics. -The music was heard to better advantage here than in the hall where the -company had first been received; and as the Princess moved to a seat -under the pale green frondage of a huge tropical fern and bade her two -companions sit beside her, sounds of the wildest, most melancholy and -haunting character began to palpitate upon the air in the mournful, -throbbing fashion in which a nightingale sings when its soul is -burdened with love. The passionate tremor that shakes the bird's throat -at mating-time seemed to shake the unseen instruments that now -discoursed strange melody, and Gervase, listening dreamily, felt a -curious contraction and aching at his heart and a sense of suffocation -in his throat, combined with an insatiate desire to seize in his arms -the mysterious Ziska, with her dark fathomless eyes and slight, yet -voluptuous, form,--to drag her to his breast and crush her there, -whispering: - -"Mine!--mine! By all the gods of the past and present--mine! Who shall -tear her from me,--who dispute my right to love her--ruin her--murder -her, if I choose? She is mine!" - -"The bas-relief I told you of is just above us," said the Princess -then, addressing herself to the Doctor; "would you like to examine it? -One of the servants shall bring you a lighted taper, and by passing it -in front of the sculpture you will be able to see the design better. -Ah, Mr. Murray!" and she smiled as she greeted Denzil, who just then -approached. "You are in time to give us your opinion. I want Dr. Dean -to see that very old piece of stone carving on the wall above us,--it -will serve as a link for him in the history of Araxes." - -"Indeed!" murmured Denzil, somewhat abstractedly. - -The Princess glanced at his brooding face and laughed. - -"You, I know, are not interested at all in old history," she went on. -"The past has no attraction for you." - -"No. The present is enough," he replied, with a glance of mingled hope -and passion. - -She smiled, and signing to one of her Egyptian attendants, bade him -bring a lighted taper. He did so, and passed it slowly up and down and -to the right and left of the large piece of ancient sculpture that -occupied more than half the wall, while Dr. Dean stood by, spectacles -on nose, to examine the carving as closely as possible. Several other -people, attracted by what was going on, paused to look also, and the -Princess undertook to explain the scene depicted. - -"This piece of carving is of the date of the King Amenhotep or -Amenophis III., of the Eighteenth Dynasty. It represents the return of -the warrior Araxes, a favorite servant of the king's, after some -brilliant victory. You see, there is the triumphal car in which he -rides, drawn by winged horses, and behind him are the solar -deities--Ra, Sikar, Tmu, and Osiris. He is supposed to be approaching -his palace in triumph; the gates are thrown open to receive him, and -coming out to meet him is the chief favorite of his harem, the -celebrated dancer of that period--Ziska-Charmazel." - -"Whom he afterwards murdered, you say?" queried Dr. Dean meditatively. - -"Yes. He murdered her simply because she loved him too well and was in -the way of his ambition. There was nothing astonishing in his behavior, -not even if you consider it in the light of modern times. Men always -murder--morally, if not physically--the women who love them too well." - -"You truly think that?" asked Denzil Murray in a low tone. - -"I not only truly think it, I truly know it!" she answered, with a -disdainful flash of her eyes. "Of course, I speak of strong men with -strong passions; they are the only kind of men women ever worship. Of -course, a weak, good-natured man is different; he would probably not -harm a woman for the world, or give her the least cause for pain if he -could help it, but that sort of man never becomes either an adept or a -master in love. Araxes was probably both. No doubt he considered he had -a perfect right to slay what he had grown weary of; he thought no more -than men of his type think to-day, that the taking of a life demands a -life in exchange, if not in this world, then in the next." - -The group of people near her were all silent, gazing with an odd -fascination at the quaint and ancient-sculptured figures above them, -when all at once Dr. Dean, taking the taper from the hands of the -Egyptian servant, held the flame close to the features of the warrior -riding in the car of triumph, and said slowly: - -"Do you not see a curious resemblance, Princess, between this Araxes -and a friend of ours here present? Monsieur Armand Gervase, will you -kindly step forward? Yes, that will do, turn your head slightly,--so! -Yes! Now observe the outline of the features of Araxes as carven in -this sculpture thousands of years ago, and compare it with the outline -of the features of our celebrated friend, the greatest French artist of -his day. Am I the only one who perceives the remarkable similarity of -contour and expression?" - -The Princess made no reply. A smile crossed her lips, but no word -escaped them. Several persons, however, pressed eagerly forward to look -at and comment upon what was indeed a startling likeness. The same -straight, fierce brows, the same proud, firm mouth, the same -almond-shaped eyes were, as it seemed, copied from the ancient -entablature and repeated in flesh and blood in the features of Gervase. -Even Denzil Murray, absorbed though he was in conflicting thoughts of -his own, was struck by the coincidence. - -"It is really very remarkable!" he said. "Allowing for the peculiar -style of drawing and design common to ancient Egypt, the portrait of -Araxes might pass for Gervase in Egyptian costume." - -Gervase himself was silent. Some mysterious emotion held him mute, and -he was only aware of a vague irritation that fretted him without any -seemingly adequate cause. Dr. Dean meanwhile pursued his investigations -with the lighted taper, and presently, turning round on the assembled -little group of bystanders, he said: - -"I have just discovered another singular thing. The face of the woman -here--the dancer and favorite--is the face of our charming hostess, the -Princess Ziska!" - -Exclamations of wonder greeted this announcement, and everybody craned -their necks to see. And then the Princess spoke, slowly and languidly. - -"Yes," she murmured, "I was hoping you would perceive that. I myself -noticed how very like me is the famous Ziska-Charmazel, and that is -just why I dressed in her fashion for the fancy ball the other evening. -It seemed to me the best thing to do, as I wanted to choose an ancient -period, and then, you know, I bear half her name." - -Dr. Dean looked at her keenly, and a somewhat grim smile wrinkled his -lips. - -"You could not have done better," he declared. "You and the -dancing-girl of Araxes might be twin sisters." - -He lowered the taper he held that it might more strongly illumine her -face, and as the outline of her head and throat and bust was thrown -into full relief, Gervase, staring at her, was again conscious of that -sudden, painful emotion of familiarity which had before overwhelmed -him, and he felt that in all the world he had no such intimate -knowledge of any woman as he had of Ziska. He knew her! Ah!--how did he -NOT know her? Every curve of that pliant form was to him the living -memory of something once possessed and loved, and he pressed his hand -heavily across his eyes for a moment to shut out the sight of all the -exquisite voluptuous grace which shook his self-control and tempted him -almost beyond man's mortal endurance. - -"Are you not well, Monsieur Gervase?" said Dr. Dean, observing him -closely, and handing back the lighted taper to the Egyptian servant who -waited to receive it. "The portraits on this old carving have perhaps -affected you unpleasantly? Yet there is really nothing of importance in -such a coincidence." - -"Nothing of importance, perhaps, but surely something of singularity," -interrupted Denzil Murray, "especially in the resemblance between the -Princess and the dancing-girl of that ancient period,--their features -are positively line for line alike." - -The Princess laughed. - -"Yes, is it not curious?" she said, and, taking the taper from her -servant, she sprang lightly on one of the benches near the wall and -leaned her beautiful head on the entablature, so that her profile stood -out close against that of the once reputed Ziska-Charmazel. "We are, as -Dr. Dean says, twins!" - -Several of the guests had now gathered together in that particular part -of the room, and they all looked up at her as she stood thus, in silent -and somewhat superstitious wonderment. The fascinating dancer, famed in -ages past, and the lovely, living charmeresse of the present were the -image of each other, and so extraordinary was the resemblance that it -was almost what some folks would term "uncanny." The fair Ziska did -not, however, give her acquaintances time for much meditation or -surprise concerning the matter, for she soon came down from her -elevation near the sculptured frieze and, extinguishing the taper she -held, she said lightly: - -"As Dr. Dean has remarked, there is really nothing of importance in the -coincidence. Ages ago, in the time of Araxes, roses must have bloomed; -and who shall say that a rose in to-day's garden is not precisely the -same in size, scent and color as one that Araxes himself plucked at his -palace gates? Thus, if flowers are born alike in different ages, why -not women and men?" - -"Very well argued, Princess," said the Doctor. "I quite agree with you. -Nature is bound to repeat some of her choicest patterns, lest she -should forget the art of making them." - -There was now a general movement among the guests, that particular kind -of movement which means irritability and restlessness, and implies that -either supper must be immediately served, or else some novel -entertainment be brought in to distract attention and prevent tedium. -The Princess, turning to Gervase, said smilingly: - -"Apropos of the dancing-girl of Araxes and the art of dancing -generally, I am going to entertain the company presently by letting -them see a real old dance of Thebes. If you will excuse me a moment I -must just prepare them and get the rooms slightly cleared. I will -return to you presently." - -She glided away with her usual noiseless grace, and within a few -minutes of her departure the gay crowds began to fall back against the -walls and disperse themselves generally in expectant groups here and -there, the Egyptian servants moving in and out and evidently informing -them of the entertainment in prospect. - -"Well, I shall stay here," said Dr. Dean, "underneath this remarkable -stone carving of your warrior-prototype, Monsieur Gervase. You seem -very much abstracted. I asked you before if you were not well; but you -never answered me." - -"I am perfectly well," replied Gervase, with some irritation. "The heat -is rather trying, that is all. But I attach no importance to that stone -frieze. One can easily imagine likenesses where there are really none." - -"True!" and the Doctor smiled to himself, and said no more. Just then a -wild burst of music sounded suddenly through the apartment, and he -turned round in lively anticipation to watch the proceedings. - -The middle of the room was now quite clear, and presently, moving with -the silent grace of swans on still water, came four girls closely -veiled, carrying quaintly-shaped harps and lutes. A Nubian servant -followed them, and spread a gold-embroidered carpet upon the ground, -whereon they all sat down and began to thrum the strings of their -instruments in a muffled, dreamy manner, playing a music which had -nothing of melody in it, and which yet vaguely suggested a passionate -tune. This thrumming went on for some time when all at once from a side -entrance in the hall a bright, apparently winged thing bounded from the -outer darkness into the centre of the hall,--a woman clad in glistening -cloth of gold and veiled entirely in misty folds of white, who, raising -her arms gleaming with jewelled bangles high above her head, remained -poised on tiptoe for a moment, as though about to fly. Her bare feet, -white and dimpled, sparkled with gems and glittering anklets; her -skirts as she moved showed fluttering flecks of white and pink like the -leaves of May-blossoms shaken by a summer breeze; the music grew louder -and wilder, and a brazen clang from unseen cymbals prepared her as it -seemed for flight. She began her dance slowly, gliding mysteriously -from side to side, anon turning suddenly with her head lifted, as -though listening for some word of love which should recall her or -command; then, bending down again, she seemed to float lazily like a -creature that was dancing in a dream without conscious knowledge of her -actions. The brazen cymbals clashed again, and then, with a wild, -beautiful movement, like that of a hunted stag leaping the brow of a -hill, the dancer sprang forward, turned, pirouetted and tossed herself -round and round giddily with a marvellous and exquisite celerity, as if -she were nothing but a bright circle of gold spinning in clear ether. -Spontaneous applause broke forth from every part of the hall; the -guests crowded forward, staring and almost breathless with amazement. -Dr. Dean got up in a state of the greatest excitement, clapping his -hands involuntarily; and Gervase, every nerve in his body quivering, -advanced one or two steps, feeling that he must stop this bright, wild, -wanton thing in her incessant whirling, or else die in the hunger of -love which consumed his soul. Denzil Murray glanced at him, and, after -a pause, left his side and disappeared. Suddenly, with a quick -movement, the dancer loosened her golden dress and misty veil, and -tossing them aside like falling leaves, she stood confessed--a -marvellous, glowing vision in silvery white-no other than the Princess -Ziska! - -Shouts echoed from every part of the hall: - -"Ziska! Ziska!" - -And at the name Lady Chetwynd Lyle rose in all her majesty from the -seat she had occupied till then, and in tones of virtuous indignation -said to Lady Fulkeward: - -"I told you the Princess was not a proper person! Now it is proved I am -right! To think I should have brought Dolly and Muriel here! I shall -really never forgive myself! Come, Sir Chetwynd,--let us leave this -place instantly!" - -And stout Sir Chetwynd, gloating on the exquisite beauty of the -Princess Ziska's form as she still danced on in her snowy white attire, -her lovely face alight with mirth at the surprise she had made for her -guests, tried his best to look sanctimonious and signally failed in the -attempt as he answered: - -"Certainly! Certainly, my dear! Most improper ... most astonishing!" - -While Lady Fulkeward answered innocently: - -"Is it? Do you really think so? Oh, dear! I suppose it is improper,--it -must be, you know; but it is most delightful and original!" - -And while the Chetwynd Lyles thus moved to depart in a cloud of -outraged propriety, followed by others who likewise thought it well to -pretend to be shocked at the proceeding, Gervase, dizzy, breathless, -and torn by such conflicting passions as he could never express, was in -a condition more mad than sane. - -"My God!" he muttered under his breath. "This--this is love! This is -the beginning and end of life! To possess her,--to hold her in my -arms--heart to heart, lips to lips ... this is what all the eternal -forces of Nature meant when they made me man!" - -And he watched with strained, passionate eyes the movements of the -Princess Ziska as they grew slower and slower, till she seemed floating -merely like a foam-bell on a wave, and then ... from some unseen -quarter of the room a rich throbbing voice began to sing:-- - - "Oh, for the passionless peace of the Lotus-Lily! - It floats in a waking dream on the waters chilly, - With its leaves unfurled - To the wondering world, - Knowing naught of the sorrow and restless pain - That burns and tortures the human brain; - Oh, for the passionless peace of the Lotus-Lily! - Oh, for the pure cold heart of the Lotus-Lily! - Bared to the moon on the waters dark and chilly. - A star above - Is its only love, - And one brief sigh of its scented breath - Is all it will ever know of Death; - Oh, for the pure cold heart of the Lotus-Lily!" - -As the sound died away in a sigh rather than a note, the Princess -Ziska's dancing ceased altogether. A shout of applause broke from all -assembled, and in the midst of it there was a sudden commotion and -excitement, and Dr. Dean was seen bending over a man's prostrate -figure. The great French painter, Armand Gervase, had suddenly fainted. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - - -A curious yet very general feeling of superstitious uneasiness and -discomfort pervaded the Gezireh Palace Hotel the day after the Princess -Ziska's reception. Something had happened, and no one knew what. The -proprieties had been outraged, but no one knew why. It was certainly -not the custom for a hostess, and a Princess to boot, to dance like a -wild bacchante before a crowd of her invited guests, yet, as Dr. Dean -blandly observed,-- - -"Where was the harm? In London, ladies of good birth and breeding went -in for 'skirt-dancing,' and no one presumed to breathe a word against -their reputations; why in Cairo should not a lady go in for a Theban -dance without being considered improper?" - -Why, indeed? There seemed no adequate reason for being either surprised -or offended; yet surprised and offended most people were, and scandal -ran rife, and rumor wagged all its poisonous tongues to spread evil -reports against the Princess Ziska's name and fame, till Denzil Murray, -maddened and furious, rushed up to his sister in her room and swore -that he would marry the Princess if he died for it. - -"They are blackguarding her downstairs, the beasts!" he said hotly. -"They are calling her by every bad name under the sun! But I will make -everything straight for her; she shall be my wife! If she will have me, -I will marry her to-morrow!" - -Helen looked at him in speechless despair. - -"Oh, Denzil!" she faltered, and then could say no more, for the tears -that blinded her eyes. - -"Oh, yes, of course, I know what you mean!" he continued, marching up -and down the room excitedly. "You are like all the others; you think -her an adventuress. I think her the purest, the noblest of women! There -is where we differ. I spoke to her last night,--I told her I loved her." - -"You did?" and Helen gazed at him with wet, tragic eyes,--"And she ..." - -"She bade me be silent. She told me I must not speak--not yet. She said -she would give me her answer when we were all together at the Mena -House Hotel." - -"You intend to be one of the party there then?" said Helen faintly. - -"Of course I do. And so do you, I hope." - -"No, Denzil, I cannot. Don't ask me. I will stay here with Lady -Fulkeward. She is not going, nor are the Chetwynd Lyles. I shall be -quite safe with them. I would rather not go to the Mena House,--I could -not bear it ..." - -Her voice gave way entirely, and she broke out crying bitterly. - -Denzil stood still and regarded her with a kind of sullen shame and -remorse. - -"What a very sympathetic sister you are!" he observed. "When you see me -madly in love with a woman--a perfectly beautiful, adorable woman--you -put yourself at once in the way and make out that my marriage with her -will be a misery to you. You surely do not expect me to remain single -all my life, do you?" - -"No, Denzil," sobbed Helen, "but I had hoped to see you marry some -sweet girl of our own land who would be your dear and true -companion,--who would be a sister to me,--who ... there! don't mind me! -Be happy in your own way, my dear brother. I have no business to -interfere. I can only say that if the Princess Ziska consents to marry -you, I will do my best to like her, for your sake." - -"Well, that's something, at any rate," said Denzil, with an air of -relief. "Don't cry, Helen, it bothers me. As for the 'sweet girl' you -have got in view for me, you will permit me to say that 'sweet girls' -are becoming uncommonly scarce in Britain. What with bicycle riders and -great rough tomboys generally, with large hands and larger feet, I -confess I do not care about them. I like a womanly woman,--a graceful -woman,--a fascinating, bewitching woman, and the Princess is all that -and more. Surely you consider her beautiful?" - -"Very beautiful indeed!" sighed poor Helen.--"Too beautiful!" - -"Nonsense! As if any woman can be too beautiful! I am sorry you won't -come to the Mena House. It would be a change for you,--and Gervase is -going." - -"Is he better to-day?" inquired Helen timidly. - -"Oh, I believe he is quite well again. It was the heat or the scent of -the flowers, or something of that sort, that made him faint last night. -He is not acclimatized yet, you know. And he said that the Princess's -dancing made him giddy." - -"I don't wonder at that," murmured Helen. - -"It was marvellous--glorious!" said Denzil dreamily. "It was like -nothing else ever seen or imagined!" - -"If she were your wife, would you care for her to dance before people?" -inquired Helen tremblingly. - -Denzil turned upon her in haughty wrath. - -"How like a woman that is! To insinuate a nasty suggestion--to imply an -innuendo without uttering it! If she were my wife, she would do nothing -unbecoming that position." - -"Then you did think it a little unbecoming?" persisted Helen. - -"No, I did NOT!" said Denzil sharply. "An independent woman may do many -things that a married woman may not. Marriage brings its own duties and -responsibilities,--time enough to consider them when they come." - -He turned angrily on his heel and left her, and Helen, burying her fair -face in her hands, wept long and unrestrainedly. This "strange woman -out of Egypt" had turned her brother's heart against her, and stolen -away her almost declared lover. It was no wonder that her tears fell -fast, wrung from her with the pain of this double wound; for Helen, -though quiet and undemonstrative, had fine feelings and unsounded -depths of passion in her nature, and the fatal attraction she felt for -Armand Gervase was more powerful than she had herself known. Now that -he had openly confessed his infatuation for another woman, it seemed as -though the earth had opened at her feet and shown her nothing but a -grave in which to fall. Life--empty and blank and bare of love and -tenderness, stretched before her imagination; she saw herself toiling -along the monotonously even road of duty till her hair became gray and -her face thin and wan and wrinkled, and never a gleam again of the -beautiful, glowing, romantic passion that for a short time had made her -days splendid with the dreams that are sweeter than all realities. - -Poor Helen! It was little marvel that she wept as all women weep when -their hearts are broken. It is so easy to break a heart; sometimes a -mere word will do it. But the vanishing of the winged Love-god from the -soul is even more than heart-break,--it is utter and irretrievable -loss,--complete and dominating chaos out of which no good thing can -ever be designed or created. In our days we do our best to supply the -place of a reluctant Eros by the gilded, grinning Mammon-figure which -we try to consider as superior to any silver-pinioned god that ever -descended in his rainbow car to sing heavenly songs to mortals; but it -is an unlovely substitute,--a hideous idol at best; and grasp its -golden knees and worship it as we will, it gives us little or no -comfort in the hours of strong temptation or trouble. We have made a -mistake--we, in our progressive generation,--we have banished the old -sweetnesses, triumphs and delights of life, and we have got in exchange -steam and electricity. But the heart of the age clamors on -unsatisfied,--none of our "new" ideas content it--nothing pacifies its -restless yearning; it feels--this great heart of human life--that it is -losing more than it gains, hence the incessant, restless aching of the -time, and the perpetual longing for something Science cannot -teach,--something vague, beautiful, indefinable, yet satisfying to -every pulse of the soul; and the nearest emotion to that divine solace -is what we in our higher and better moments recognize as Love. And Love -was lost to Helen Murray; the choice pearl had fallen in the vast gulf -of Might-have-been, and not all the forces of Nature would ever restore -to her that priceless gem. - -And while she wept to herself in solitude, and her brother Denzil -wandered about in the gardens of the hotel, encouraging within himself -hopes of winning the bewitching Ziska for a wife, Armand Gervase, shut -up in his room under plea of slight indisposition, reviewed the -emotions of the past night and tired to analyze them. Some men are born -self-analysts, and are able to dissect their feelings by some peculiar -form of mental surgery which finally leads them to cut out tenderness -as though it were a cancer, love as a disease, and romantic aspirations -as mere uncomfortable growths injurious to self-interest, but Gervase -was not one of these. Outwardly he assumed more or less the composed -and careless demeanor of the modern French cynic, but inwardly the man -was a raging fire of fierce passions which were sometimes too strong to -be held in check. At the present moment he was prepared to sacrifice -everything, even life itself, to obtain possession of the woman he -coveted, and he made no attempt whatever to resist the tempest of -desire that was urging him on with an invincible force in a direction -which, for some strange and altogether inexplicable reason, he dreaded. -Yes, there was a dim sense of terror lurking behind all the wild -passion that filled his soul--a haunting, vague idea that this sudden -love, with its glowing ardor and intoxicating delirium, was like the -brilliant red sunset which frequently prognosticates a night of storm, -ruin and death. Yet, though he felt this presentiment like a creeping -shudder of cold through his blood, it did not hold him back, or for a -moment impress him with the idea that it might be better to yield no -further to this desperate love-madness which enthralled him. - -Once only, he thought, "What if I left Egypt now--at once--and saw her -no more?" And then he laughed scornfully at the impossibility proposed. -"Leave Egypt!" he muttered, "I might as well leave the world -altogether! She would draw me back with those sweet wild eyes of -hers,--she would drag me from the uttermost parts of the earth to fall -at her feet in a very agony of love. My God! She must have her way and -do with me as she will, for I feel that she holds my life in her hands!" - -As he spoke these last words half aloud, he sprang up from the chair in -which he had been reclining, and stood for a moment lost in frowning -meditation. - -"My life in her hands!" he repeated musingly. "Yes, it has come to -that! My life!" A great sigh broke from him. "My life--my art--my -work--my name! In all these things I have taken pride, and she--she can -trample them under her feet and make of me nothing more than man -clamoring for woman's love! What a wild world it is! What a strange -Force must that be which created it!--the Force that some men call God -and others Devil! A strange, blind, brute Force!--for it makes us -aspire only to fall; it gives a man dreams of ambition and splendid -attainment only to fling him like a mad fool on a woman's breast, and -bid him find there, and there only, the bewildering sweetness which -makes everything else in existence poor and tame in comparison. Well, -well--my life! What is it? A mere grain of sand dropped in the sea; let -her do with it as she will. God! How I felt her power upon me last -night,--last night when her lithe figure swaying in the dance reminded -me ..." - -He paused, startled at the turn his own thoughts were taking. - -"Of what? Let me try and express to myself now what I could not express -or realize last night. She--Ziska--I thought was mine,--mine from her -dimpled feet to her dusky hair,--and she danced for me alone. It seemed -that the jewels she wore upon her rounded arms and slender ankles were -all love-gifts from me--every circlet of gold, every starry, shining -gem on her fair body was the symbol of some secret joy between us--joy -so keen as to be almost pain. And as she danced, I thought I was in a -vast hall of a majestic palace, where open colonnades revealed wide -glimpses of a burning desert and deep blue sky. I heard the distant -sound of rolling drums, and not far off I saw the Sphinx--a creature -not old but new--resting upon a giant pedestal and guarding the -sculptured gate of some great temple which contained, as I then -thought, all the treasures of the world. I could paint the picture as I -saw it then! It was a fleeting impression merely, conjured up by the -dance that dizzied my brain. And that song of the Lotus-lily! That was -strange--very strange, for I thought I had heard it often before,--and -I saw myself in the vague dream, a prince, a warrior, almost a king, -and far more famous in the world than I am now!" - -He looked about him uneasily, with a kind of nervous terror, and his -eyes rested for a moment on the easel where the picture he had painted -of the Princess was placed, covered from view by a fold of dark cloth. - -"Bah!" he exclaimed at last with a forced laugh, "What stupid fancies -fool me! It is all the vague talk of that would-be learned ass, Dr. -Dean, with his ridiculous theories about life and death. I shall be -imagining I am his fad, Araxes, next! This sort of thing will never do. -Let me reason out the matter calmly. I love this woman,--love her to -absolute madness. It is not the best kind of love, maybe, but it is the -only kind I am capable of, and such as it is, she possesses it all. -What then? Well! We go to-morrow to the Pyramids, and we join her at -the Mena House, I and the poor boy Denzil. He will try his chance--I -mine. If he wins, I shall kill him as surely as I myself live,--yes, -even though he is Helen's brother. No man shall snatch Ziska from my -arms and continue to breathe. If I win, it is possible he may kill me, -and I shall respect him for trying to do it. But I shall satisfy my -love first; Ziska will be mine--mine in every sense of -possession,--before I die. Yes, that must be--that will have to be. And -afterwards,--why let Denzil do his worst; a man can but die once." - -He drew the cloth off his easel and stared at the strange picture of -the Princess, which seemed almost sentient in its half-watchful, -half-mocking expression. - -"There is a dead face and a living one on this canvas," he said, "and -the dead face seems to enthral me as much as the living. Both have the -same cruel smile,--both the same compelling magnetism of eye. Only it -is a singular thing that I should know the dead face even more -intimately than the living--that the tortured look upon it should be a -kind of haunting memory--horrible--ghastly. ..." - -He flung the cloth over the easel again impatiently, and tried to laugh -at his own morbid imagination. - -"I know who is responsible for all this nonsense," he said. "It is that -ridiculous little half-mad faddist, Dr. Dean. He is going to the Mena -House, too. Well!--he will be the witness of a comedy or a tragedy -there,--and Heaven alone knows which it will be!" - -And to distract his thoughts from dwelling any longer on the haunting -ideas that perplexed him, he took up one of the latest and frothiest of -French novels and began to read. Some one in a room not far off was -singing a French song,--a man with a rich baritone voice,--and -unconsciously to himself Gervase caught the words as they rang out full -and clearly on the quiet, heated air-- - - O toi que j'ai tant aimee - Songes-tu que je t'aime encor? - Et dans ton ame alarmee, - Ne sens-tu pas quelque remord? - Viens avec moi, si tu m'aimes, - Habiter dans ces deserts; - Nous y vivrons pour nous memes, - Oublies de tout l'univers! - -And something like a mist of tears clouded his aching eyes as he -repeated, half mechanically and dreamily-- - - O toi que j'ai tant aimee, - Songes-tu que je t'aime encor? - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - - -For the benefit of those among the untravelled English who have not yet -broken a soda-water bottle against the Sphinx, or eaten sandwiches to -the immortal memory of Cheops, it may be as well to explain that the -Mena House Hotel is a long, rambling, roomy building, situated within -five minutes' walk of the Great Pyramid, and happily possessed of a -golfing-ground and a marble swimming-bath. That ubiquitous nuisance, -the "amateur photographer," can there have his "dark room" for the -development of his more or less imperfect "plates"; and there is a -resident chaplain for the piously inclined. With a chaplain and a "dark -room," what more can the aspiring soul of the modern tourist desire? -Some of the rooms at the Mena House are small and stuffy; others large -and furnished with sufficient elegance: and the Princess Ziska had -secured a "suite" of the best that could be obtained, and was soon -installed there with befitting luxury. She left Cairo quite suddenly, -and without any visible preparation, the morning after the reception in -which she had astonished her guests by her dancing: and she did not -call at the Gezireh Palace Hotel to say good-bye to any of her -acquaintances there. She was perhaps conscious that her somewhat "free" -behavior had startled several worthy and sanctimonious persons; and -possibly she also thought that to take rooms in an hotel which was only -an hour's distance from Cairo, could scarcely be considered as -absenting herself from Cairene society. She was followed to her desert -retreat by Dr. Dean, Armand Gervase, and Denzil Murray, who drove to -the Mena House together in one carriage, and were more or less all -three in a sober and meditative frame of mind. They arrived in time to -see the Sphinx bathed in the fierce glow of an ardent sunset, which -turned the golden sands to crimson, and made the granite monster look -like a cruel idol surrounded by a sea of blood. The brilliant red of -the heavens flamed in its stony eyes, and gave them a sentient look as -of contemplated murder,--and the same radiance fitfully playing on the -half-scornful, half-sensual lips caused them to smile with a seeming -voluptuous mockery. Dr. Dean stood transfixed for a while at the -strange splendor of the spectacle, and turning to his two silent -companions, said suddenly: - -"There is something, after all, in the unguessed riddle of the Sphinx. -It is not a fable; it is a truth. There is a problem to be solved, and -that monstrous creature knows it! The woman's face, the brute's -body--Spiritualism and Materialism in one! It is life, and more than -life; it is love. Forever and forever it teaches the same wonderful, -terrible mystery. We aspire, yet we fall; love would fain give us wings -wherewith to fly; but the wretched body lies prone--supine; it cannot -soar to the Light Eternal." - -"What IS the Light Eternal?" queried Gervase, moodily. "How do we know -it exists? We cannot prove it. This world is what we see; we have to do -with it and ourselves. Soul without body could not exist. ..." - -"Could it not?" said the Doctor. "How, then, does body exist without -soul?" - -This was an unexpected but fair question, and Gervase found himself -curiously perplexed by it. He offered no reply, neither did Denzil, and -they all three slowly entered the Mena House Hotel, there to be met -with deferential salutations by the urbane and affable landlord, and to -be assured that they would find their rooms comfortable, and also that -"Madame la Princesse Ziska" expected them to dine with her that -evening. At this message, Denzil Murray made a sign to Gervase that he -wished to speak to him alone. Gervase move aside with him. - -"Give me my chance!" said Denzil, fiercely. - -"Take it!" replied Gervase listlessly. "Let to-night witness the -interchange of hearts between you and the Princess; I shall not -interfere." - -Denzil stared at him in sullen astonishment. - -"You will not interfere? Your fancy for her is at an end?" - -Gervase raised his dark, glowing eyes and fixed them on his would-be -rival with a strange and sombre expression. - -"My 'fancy' for her? My good boy, take care what you say! Don't rouse -me too far, for I am dangerous! My 'fancy' for her! What do you know of -it? You are hot-blooded and young; but the chill of the North controls -you in a fashion, while I--a man in the prime of manhood--am of the -South, and the Southern fire brooks no control. Have you seen a quiet -ocean, smooth as glass, with only a dimple in the deep blue to show -that perhaps, should occasion serve, there might arise a little wave? -And have you seen the wild storm breaking from a black cloud and -suddenly making that quiet expanse nothing but a tourbillon of furious -elements, in which the very sea-gull's cry is whelmed and lost in the -thunder of the billows? Such a storm as that may be compared to the -'fancy' you suppose I feel for the woman who has dragged us both here -to die at her feet--for that, I believe, is what it will come to. Life -is not possible under the strain of emotion with which we two are -living it. ..." - -He broke off, then resumed in quieter tones: - -"I say to you: Use your opportunities while you have them. After dinner -I will leave you alone with the Princess. I will go out for a stroll -with Dr. Dean. Take your chance, Denzil, for, as I live, it is your -last! It will be my turn next! Give me credit for to-night's patience!" - -He turned quickly away, and in a moment was gone. Denzil Murray stood -still for a while, thinking deeply, and trying to review the position -in which he found himself. He was madly in love with a woman for whom -his only sister had the most violent antipathy; and that sister, who -had once been all in all to him, had now become almost less than -nothing in the headstrong passion which consumed him. No consideration -for her peace and ultimate happiness affected him, though he was -sensible of a certain remorseful pity when thinking of her gentle ways -and docile yielding to his often impatient and impetuous humors; but, -after all, she was only his sister,--she could not understand his -present condition of mind. Then there was Gervase, whom he had for some -years looked upon as one of his most admired and intimate friends; now -he was nothing more or less than a rival and an enemy, notwithstanding -his seeming courtesy and civil self-restraint. As a matter of fact, he, -Denzil, was left alone to face his fate: to dare the brilliant -seduction of the witching eyes of Ziska,--to win her or to lose her -forever! And consider every point as he would, the weary conviction was -borne in upon him that, whether he met with victory or defeat, the -result would bring more misery than joy. - -When he entered the Princess's salon that evening, he found Dr. Dean -and Gervase already there. The Princess herself, attired in a -dinner-dress made with quite a modern Parisian elegance, received him -in her usual graceful manner, and expressed with much sweetness her -hope that the air of the desert would prove beneficial to him after the -great heats that had prevailed in Cairo. Nothing but conventionalities -were spoken. Oh, those conventionalities! What a world of repressed -emotions they sometimes cover! How difficult it is to conceive that the -man and woman who are greeting each other with calm courtesy in a -crowded drawing-room are the very two, who, standing face to face in -the moonlit silence of some lonely grove of trees or shaded garden, -once in their lives suddenly realized the wild passion that neither -dared confess! Tragedies lie deepest under conventionalities--such -secrets are buried beneath them as sometimes might make the angels -weep! They are safeguards, however, against stronger emotions; and the -strange bathos of two human creatures talking politely about the -weather when the soul of each is clamoring for the other, has -sometimes, despite its absurdity, saved the situation. - -At dinner, the Princess Ziska devoted herself almost entirely to the -entertainment of Dr. Dean, and awakened his interest very keenly on the -subject of the Great Pyramid. - -"It has never really been explored," she said. "The excavators who -imagine they have fathomed its secrets are completely in error. The -upper chambers are mere deceits to the investigator; they were built -and planned purposely to mislead, and the secrets they hide have never -even been guessed at, much less discovered." - -"Are you sure of that?" inquired the Doctor, eagerly. "If so, would you -not give your information. ..." - -"I neither give my information nor sell it," interrupted the Princess, -smiling coldly. "I am only a woman--and women are supposed to know -nothing. With the rest of my sex, I am judged illogical and -imaginative; you wise men would call my knowledge of history deficient, -my facts not proven. But, if you like, I will tell you the story of the -construction of the Great Pyramid, and why it is unlikely that anyone -will ever find the treasures that are buried within it. You can receive -the narrative with the usual incredulity common to men; I shall not -attempt to argue the pros and cons with you, because I never argue. -Treat it as a fairy-tale--no woman is ever supposed to know anything -for a fact,--she is too stupid. Only men are wise!" - -Her dark, disdainful glance flashed on Gervase and Denzil; anon she -smiled bewitchingly, and added: - -"Is it not so?" - -"Wisdom is nothing compared to beauty," said Gervase. "A beautiful -woman can turn the wisest man into a fool." - -The Princess laughed lightly. - -"Yes, and a moment afterwards he regrets his folly," she said. "He -clamors for the beautiful woman as a child might cry for the moon, and -when he at last possesses her, he tires. Satisfied with having -compassed her degradation, he exclaims: 'What shall I do with this -beauty, which, because it is mine, now palls upon me? Let me kill it -and forget it; I am aweary of love, and the world is full of women!' -That is the way of your sex, Monsieur Gervase; it is a brutal way, but -it is the one most of you follow." - -"There is such a thing as love!" said Denzil, looking up quickly, a -pained flush on his handsome face. - -"In the hearts of women, yes!" said Ziska, her voice growing tremulous -with strange and sudden passion. "Women love--ah!--with what force and -tenderness and utter abandonment of self! But their love is in -ninety-nine cases out of a hundred utterly wasted; it is a largesse -flung to the ungrateful, a jewel tossed in the mire! If there were not -some compensation in the next life for the ruin wrought on loving -women, the Eternal God himself would be a mockery and a jest." - -"And is he not?" queried Gervase, ironically. "Fair Princess, I would -not willingly shake your faith in things unseen, but what does the -'Eternal God,' as you call Him, care as to the destiny of any -individual unit on this globe of matter? Does He interfere when the -murderer's knife descends upon the victim? And has He ever interfered? -He it is who created the sexes and placed between them the strong -attraction that often works more evil and misery than good; and what -barrier has He ever interposed between woman and man, her natural -destroyer? None!--save the trifling one of virtue, which is a flimsy -thing, and often breaks down at the first temptation. No, my dear -Princess; the 'Eternal God,' if there is one, does nothing but look on -impassively at the universal havoc of creation. And in the blindness -and silence of things, I cannot recognize an Eternal God at all; we -were evidently made to eat, drink, breed and die--and there an end." - -"What of ambition?" asked Dr. Dean. "What of the inspiration that lifts -a man beyond himself and his material needs, and teaches him to strive -after the Highest?" - -"Mere mad folly!" replied Gervase impetuously. "Take the Arts. I, for -example, dream of painting a picture that shall move the world to -admiration,--but I seldom grasp the idea I have imagined. I paint -something,--anything,--and the world gapes at it, and some rich fool -buys it, leaving me free to paint another something; and so on and so -on, to the end of my career. I ask you what satisfaction does it bring? -What is it to Raphael that thousands of human units, cultured and -silly, have stared at his 'Madonnas' and his famous Cartoons?" - -"Well, we do not exactly know what it may or may not be to Raphael," -said the Doctor, meditatively. "According to my theories, Raphael is -not dead, but merely removed into another form, on another planet -possibly, and is working elsewhere. You might as well ask what it is to -Araxes now that he was a famous warrior once?" - -Gervase moved uneasily. - -"You have got Araxes on the brain, Doctor," he said, with a forced -smile, "and in our conversation we are forgetting that the Princess has -promised to tell us a fairytale, the story of the Great Pyramid." - -The Princess looked at him, then at Denzil Murray, and lastly at Dr. -Dean. - -"Would you really care to hear it?" she asked. - -"Most certainly!" they all three answered. - -She rose from the dinner-table. - -"Come here to the window," she said. "You can see the great structure -now, in the dusky light,--look at it well and try, if you can, to -realize that deep, deep down in the earth on which it stands is a -connected gallery of rocky caves wherein no human foot has ever -penetrated since the Deluge swept over the land and made a desert of -all the old-time civilization!" - -Her slight figure appeared to dilate as she spoke, raising one slender -hand and arm to point at the huge mass that towered up against the -clear, starlit sky. Her listeners were silent, awed and attentive. - -"One of the latest ideas concerning the Pyramids is, as you know, that -they were built as towers of defence against the Deluge. That is -correct. The wise men of the old days foretold the time when 'the -waters should rise and cover the earth,' and these huge monuments were -prepared and raised to a height which it was estimated would always -appear above the level of the coming flood, to show where the treasures -of Egypt were hidden for safety. Yes,--the treasures of Egypt, the -wisdom, the science of Egypt! They are all down there still! And there, -to all intents and purposes, they are likely to remain." - -"But archaeologists are of the opinion that the Pyramids have been -thoroughly explored," began Dr. Dean, with some excitement. - -The Princess interrupted him by a slight gesture. - -"Archaeologists, my dear Doctor, are like the rest of this world's -so-called 'learned' men; they work in one groove, and are generally -content with it. Sometimes an unusually brilliant brain conceives the -erratic notion of working in several grooves, and is straightway judged -as mad or fanatic. It is when these comet-like intelligences sweep -across the world's horizon that we hear of a Julius Caesar, a Napoleon, -a Shakespeare. But archaeologists are the narrowest and dryest of -men,--they preconceive a certain system of work and follow it out by -mathematical rule and plan, without one touch of imagination to help -them to discover new channels of interest or historical information. As -I told you before I began to speak, you are welcome to entirely -disbelieve my story of the Great Pyramid,--but as I have begun it, you -may as well hear it through." She paused a moment, then went on: -"According to my information, the building of the Pyramids was -commenced three hundred years before the Deluge, in the time of Saurid, -the son of Sabaloc, who, it is said, was the first to receive a warning -dream of the coming flood. Saurid, being convinced by his priests, -astrologers and soothsayers that the portent was a true one, became -from that time possessed of one idea, which was that the vast learning -of Egypt, its sciences, discoveries and strange traditions should not -be lost,--and that the exploits and achievements of those who were -great and famous in the land should be so recorded as never to be -forgotten. In those days, here where you see these measureless tracts -of sand, there were great mountainous rocks and granite quarries, and -Saurid utilized these for the hollowing out of deep caverns in which to -conceal treasure. When these caverns were prepared to his liking, he -caused a floor to be made, portions of which were rendered movable by -means of secret springs, and then leaving a hollow space of some four -feet in height, he started foundations for another floor above it. This -upper floor is what you nowadays see when you enter the Pyramid,--and -no one imagines that under it is an open space with room to walk in, -and yet another floor below, where everything of value is secreted." - -Dr. Dean drew a long breath of wonderment. - -"Astonishing, if true!" - -The Princess smiled somewhat disdainfully, and went on: - -"Saurid's work was carried on after his death by his successors, and -with thousands of slaves toiling night and day the Pyramids were in the -course of years raised above the caverns which concealed Egypt's -mysteries. Everything was gradually accumulated in these underground -store-houses,--the engraved talismans, the slabs of stone on which were -deeply carved the geometrical and astronomical sciences; indestructible -glass chests containing papyri, on which were written the various -discoveries made in beneficial drugs, swift poisons, and other -medicines. And among these many things were thirty great jars full of -precious stones, some of which were marvels of the earth. They are -there still! And some of the great men who died were interred in these -caves, every one in a separate chamber inlaid with gold and gems, and I -think," here the Princess turned her dark eyes full on Dr. Dean, "I -think that if you knew the secret way of lifting the apparently -immovable floor, which is like the solid ground, and descending through -the winding galleries beneath, it is more than probable you would find -in the Great Pyramid the tomb of Araxes!" - -Her eyes glistened strangely in the evening light with that peculiar -fiery glow which had made Dr. Dean once describe them as being like the -eyes of a vampire-bat, and there was something curiously impressive in -her gesture as she once more pointed to the towering structure which -loomed against the heavens, with one star flashing immediately above -it. A sudden involuntary shudder shook Gervase as with icy cold; he -moved restlessly, and presently remarked: - -"Well, it is a safe tomb, at any rate! Whoever Araxes was, he stands -little chance of being exhumed if he lies two floors below the Great -Pyramid in a sealed-up rocky cavern! Princess, you look like an -inspired prophetess!--so much talk of ancient and musty times makes me -feel uncanny, and I will, with your permission, have a smoke with Dr. -Dean in the garden to steady my nerves. The mere notion of thirty vases -of unclaimed precious stones hidden down yonder is enough to upset any -man's equanimity!" - -"The papyri would interest me more than the jewels," said Dr. Dean. -"What do you say, Denzil?" - -Denzil Murray woke up suddenly from a fit of abstraction. - -"Oh, I don't know anything about it," he answered. "I never was very -much interested in those old times,--they seem to me all myth. I could -never link past, present and future together as some people can; they -are to me all separate things. The past is done with,--the present is -our own to enjoy or to detest, and the future no man can look into." - -"Ah, Denzil, you are young, and reflection has not been very hard at -work in that headstrong brain of yours," said Dr. Dean with an -indulgent smile, "otherwise you would see that past, present and future -are one and indissoluble. The past is as much a part of your present -identity as the present, and the future, too, lies in you in embryo. -The mystery of one man's life contains all mysteries, and if we could -only understand it from its very beginning we should find out the cause -of all things, and the ultimate intention of creation." - -"Well, now, you have all had enough serious talk," said the Princess -Ziska lightly, "so let us adjourn to the drawing-room. One of my -waiting-women shall sing to you by and by; she has a very sweet voice." - -"Is it she who sings that song about the lotus-lily?" asked Gervase, -suddenly. - -The Princess smiled strangely. - -"Yes,--it is she." - -Dr. Dean chose a cigar from a silver box on the table; Gervase did the -same. - -"Won't you smoke, Denzil?" he asked carelessly. - -"No, thanks!" Denzil spoke hurriedly and hoarsely. "I think--if the -Princess will permit me--I will stay and talk with her in the -drawing-room while you two have your smoke together." - -The Princess gave a charming bow of assent to this proposition. Gervase -took the Doctor somewhat roughly by the arm and led him out through the -open French window into the grounds beyond, remarking as he went: - -"You will excuse us, Princess? We leave you in good company!" - -She smiled. - -"I will excuse you, certainly! But do not be long!" - -And she passed from the dining-room into the small saloon beyond, -followed closely by Denzil. - -Once out in the grounds, Gervase gave vent to a boisterous fit of wild -laughter, so loud and fierce that little Dr. Dean came to an abrupt -standstill, and stared at him in something of alarm as well as -amazement. - -"Are you going mad, Gervase?" he asked. - -"Yes!" cried Gervase, "that is just it,--I am going mad,--mad for love, -or whatever you please to call it! What do you think I am made of? -Flesh and blood, or cast-iron? Heavens! Do you think if all the -elements were to combine in a war against me, they should cheat me out -of this woman or rob me of her? No, no! A thousand times no! Satisfy -yourself, my excellent Doctor, with your musty records of the -past,--prate as you choose of the future,--but in the immediate, -burning, active present my will is law! And the fool Denzil thinks to -thwart me,--I, who have never been thwarted since I knew the meaning of -existence!" - -He paused in a kind of breathless agitation, and Dr. Dean grasped his -arm firmly. - -"Come, come, what is all this excitement for?" he said. "What are you -saying about Denzil?" - -Gervase controlled himself with a violent effort and forced a smile. - -"He has got his chance,--I have given it to him! He is alone with the -Princess, and he is asking her to be his wife!" - -"Nonsense!" said the Doctor sharply. "If he does commit such a folly, -it will be no use. The woman is NOT HUMAN!" - -"Not human?" echoed Gervase, his black eyes dilating with a sudden -amazement--"What do you mean?" - -The little Doctor rubbed his nose impatiently and seemed sorry he had -spoken. - -"I mean--let me see! What do I mean?" he said at last -meditatively--"Oh, well, it is easy enough of explanation. There are -plenty of people like the Princess Ziska to whom I would apply the -words 'not human.' She is all beauty and no heart. Again--if you follow -me--she is all desire and no passion, which is a character 'like unto -the beasts which perish.' A large majority of men are made so, and some -women,--though the women are comparatively few. Now, so far as the -Princess Ziska is concerned," continued the Doctor, fixing his keen, -penetrative glance on Gervase as he spoke, "I frankly admit to you that -I find in her material for a very curious and complex study. That is -why I have come after her here. I have said she is all desire and no -passion. That of itself is inhuman; but what I am busy about now is to -try and analyze the nature of the particular desire that moves her, -controls her, keeps her alive,--in short. It is not love; of that I -feel confident; and it is not hate,--though it is more like hate than -love. It is something indefinable, something that is almost occult, so -deep-seated and bewildering is the riddle. You look upon me as a -madman--yes! I know you do! But mad or sane, I emphatically repeat, the -Princess is NOT HUMAN, and by this expression I wish to imply that -though she has the outward appearance of a most beautiful and seductive -human body, she has the soul of a fiend. Now, do you understand me?" - -"It would take Oedipus himself all his time to do that,"--said Gervase, -forcing a laugh which had no mirth in it, for he was conscious of a -vaguely unpleasant sensation--a chill, as of some dark presentiment, -which oppressed his mind. "When you know I do not believe in the soul, -why do you talk to me about it? The soul of a fiend,--the soul of an -angel,--what are they? Mere empty terms to me, meaning nothing. I think -I agree with you though, in one or two points concerning the Princess; -par exemple, I do not look upon her as one of those delicately embodied -purities of womanhood before whom we men instinctively bend in -reverence, but whom, at the same time, we generally avoid, ashamed of -our vileness. No; she is certainly not one of the - - "'Maiden roses left to die - Because they climb so near the sky, - That not the boldest passer-by - Can pluck them from their vantage high.' - -And whether it is best to be a solitary 'maiden-rose' or a Princess -Ziska, who shall say? And human or inhuman, whatever composition she is -made of, you may make yourself positively certain that Denzil Murray is -just now doing his best to persuade her to be a Highland chatelaine in -the future. Heavens, what a strange fate it will be for la belle -Egyptienne!" - -"Oh, you think she IS Egyptian then?" queried Dr. Dean, with an air of -lively curiosity. - -"Of course I do. She has the Egyptian type of form and countenance. -Consider only the resemblance between her and the dancer she chose to -represent the other night--the Ziska-Charmazel of the antique sculpture -on her walls!" - -"Ay, but if you grant one resemblance, you must also admit another," -said the Doctor quickly. "The likeness between yourself and the -old-world warrior, Araxes, is no less remarkable!" Gervase moved -uneasily, and a sudden pallor blanched his face, making it look wan and -haggard in the light of the rising moon. "And it is rather singular," -went on the imperturbable savant, "that according to the legend or -history--whichever you please to consider it,--for in time, legends -become histories and histories legends--Araxes should have been the -lover of this very Ziska-Charmazel, and that you, who are the living -portrait of Araxes, should suddenly become enamored of the equally -living portrait of the dead woman! You must own, that to a mere -onlooker and observer like myself, it seems a curious coincidence!" - -Gervase smoked on in silence, his level brows contracted in a musing -frown. - -"Yes, it seems curious," he said at last, "but a great many curious -coincidences happen in this world--so many that we, in our days of rush -and turmoil, have not time to consider them as they come or go. Perhaps -of all the strange things in life, the sudden sympathies and the -headstrong passions which spring up in a day or a night between certain -men and certain women are the strangest. I look upon you, Doctor, as a -very clever fellow with just a little twist in his brain, or let us say -a 'fad' about spiritual matters; but in one of your more or less -fantastic and extravagant theories I am half disposed to believe, and -that is the notion you have of the possibility of some natures, male -and female, having met before in a previous state of existence and -under different forms, such as birds, flowers, or forest animals, or -even mere incorporeal breaths of air and flame. It is an idea which I -confess fascinates me. It seems fairly reasonable too, for, as many -scientists argue that you cannot destroy matter, but only transform it, -there is really nothing impossible in the suggestion." - -He paused, then added slowly as he flung the end of his cigar away: - -"I have felt the force of this odd fancy of yours most strongly since I -met the Princess Ziska." - -"Indeed! Then the impression she gave you first is still upon you--that -of having known her before?" - -Gervase waited a minute or two before replying; then he answered: - -"Yes. And not only of having known her before, but of having loved her -before. Love!--mon Dieu!--what a tame word it is! How poorly it -expresses the actual emotion! Fire in the veins--delirium in the -brain--reason gone to chaos! And this madness is mildly described as -'love?'" - -"There are other words for it," said the Doctor. "Words that are not so -poetic, but which, perhaps, are more fitting." - -"No!" interrupted Gervase, almost fiercely. "There are no words which -truly describe this one emotion which rules the world. I know what YOU -mean, of course; you mean evil words, licentious words, and yet it has -nothing whatever to do with these. You cannot call such an exalted -state of the nerves and sensations by an evil name." - -Dr. Dean pondered the question for a few moments. - -"No, I am not sure that I can," he said, meditatively. "If I did, I -should have to give an evil name to the Creator who designed man and -woman and ordained the law of attraction which draws, and often DRAGS -them together. I like to be fair to everybody, the Creator included; -yet to be fair to everybody I shall appear to sanction immorality. For -the fact is that our civilization has upset all the original intentions -of nature. Nature evidently meant Love, or the emotion we call Love, to -be the keynote of the universe. But apparently Nature did not intend -marriage. The flowers, the birds, the lower animals, mate afresh every -spring, and this is the creed that the disciples of Naturalism nowadays -are anxious to force upon the attention of the world. It is only men -and women, they say, that are so foolish as to take each other for -better or worse till death do them part. Now, I should like, from the -physical scientist's point of view, to prove that the men and women are -wrong, and that the lower animals are right; but spiritual science -comes in and confutes me. For in spiritual science I find this truth, -which will not be gainsaid--namely, that from time immemorial, certain -immortal forms of Nature have been created solely for one another; like -two halves of a circle, they are intended to meet and form the perfect -round, and all the elements of creation, spiritual and material, will -work their hardest to pull them together. Such natures, I consider, -should absolutely and imperatively be joined in marriage. It then -becomes a divine decree. Even grant, if you like, that the natures so -joined are evil, and that the sympathy between them is of a more or -less reprehensible character, it is quite as well that they should -unite, and that the result of such an union should be seen. The evil -might come out of them in a family of criminals which the law could -exterminate with advantage to the world in general. Whereas on the -other hand, given two fine and aspiring natures with perfect sympathy -between them, as perfect as the two notes of a perfect chord, the -children of such a marriage would probably be as near gods as humanity -could bring them. I speak as a scientist merely. Such consequences are -not foreseen by the majority, and marriages as a rule take place -between persons who are by no means made for each other. Besides, a -kind of devil comes into the business, and often prevents the two -sympathetic natures conjoining. Love-matters alone are quite sufficient -to convince me that there IS a devil as well as a divinity that 'shapes -our ends.'" - -"You speak as if you yourself had loved, Doctor," said Gervase, with a -half smile. - -"And so I have," replied the Doctor, calmly. "I have loved to the full -as passionately and ardently as even you can love. I thank God the -woman I loved died,--I could never have possessed her, for she was -already wedded,--and I would not have disgraced her by robbing her from -her lawful husband. So Death stepped in and gave her to me--forever!" -and he raised his eyes to the solemn starlit sky. "Yes, nothing can -ever come between us now; no demon tears her white soul from me; she -died innocent of evil, and she is mine--mine in every pulse of her -being, as we shall both know hereafter!" - -His face, which was not remarkable for any beauty of feature, grew rapt -and almost noble in its expression, and Gervase looked at him with a -faint touch of ironical wonder. - -"Upon my word, your morality almost outreaches your mysticism!" he -said. "I see you are one of those old-fashioned men who think marriage -a sacred sort of thing and the only self-respecting form of love." - -"Old-fashioned I may be," replied Dr. Dean; "but I certainly believe in -marriage for the woman's sake. If the license of men were not -restrained by some sort of barrier it would break all bounds. Now I, -had I chosen, could have taken the woman I loved to myself; it needed -but a little skilful persuasion on my part, for her husband was a -drink-sodden ruffian..." - -"And why, in the name of Heaven, did you not do so?" demanded Gervase -impatiently. - -"Because I know the end of all such liaisons," said the Doctor sadly. -"A month or two of delirious happiness, then years of remorse to -follow. The man is lowered in his own secret estimation of himself, and -the woman is hopelessly ruined, socially and morally. No, Death is far -better; and in my case Death has proved a good friend, for it has given -me the spotless soul of the woman I loved, which is far fairer than her -body was." - -"But, unfortunately, intangible!" said Gervase, satirically. - -The Doctor looked at him keenly and coldly. - -"Do not be too sure of that, my friend! Never talk about what you do -not understand; you only wander astray. The spiritual world is a blank -to you, so do not presume to judge of what you will never realize TILL -REALIZATION IS FORCED UPON YOU!" - -He uttered the last words with slow and singular emphasis. - -"Forced upon me?" began Gervase. "What do you mean? ..." - -He broke off abruptly, for at that moment Denzil Murray emerged from -the doorway of the hotel, and came towards them with an unsteady, -swaying step like that of a drunken man. - -"You had better go in to the Princess," he said, staring at Gervase -with a wild smile; "she is waiting for you!" - -"What's the matter with you, Denzil?" inquired Dr. Dean, catching him -by the arm as he made a movement to go on and pass them. - -Denzil stopped, frowning impatiently. - -"Matter? Nothing! What should be the matter?" - -"Oh, no offence; no offence, my boy!" and Dr. Dean at once loosened his -arm. "I only thought you looked as if you had had some upset or worry, -that's all." - -"Climate! climate!" said Denzil, hoarsely. "Egypt does not agree with -me, I suppose!--the dryness of the soil breeds fever and a touch of -madness! Men are not blocks of wood or monoliths of stone; they are -creatures of flesh and blood, of nerve and muscle; you cannot torture -them so..." - -He interrupted himself with a kind of breathless irritation at his own -speech. Gervase regarded him steadily, slightly smiling. - -"Torture them how, Denzil?" asked the Doctor, kindly. "Dear lad, you -are talking nonsense. Come and stroll with me up and down; the air is -quite balmy and delightful; it will cool your brain." - -"Yes, it needs cooling!" retorted Denzil, beginning to laugh with a -sort of wild hilarity. "Too much wine,--too much woman,--too much of -these musty old-world records and ghastly pyramids!" - -Here he broke off, adding quickly: - -"Doctor, Helen and I will go back to England next week, if all is well." - -"Why, certainly, certainly!" said Dr. Dean, soothingly. "I think we are -all beginning to feel we have had enough of Egypt. I shall probably -return home with you. Meanwhile, come for a stroll and talk to me; -Monsieur Armand Gervase will perhaps go in and excuse us for a few -minutes to the Princess Ziska." - -"With pleasure!" said Gervase; then, beckoning Denzil Murray aside, he -whispered: - -"Tell me, have you won or lost?" - -"Lost!" replied Denzil, fiercely, through his set teeth. "It is your -turn now! But, if you win, as sure as there is a God above us, I will -kill you!" - -"SOIT! But not till I am ready for killing! AFTER TO-MORROW NIGHT I -shall be at your service, not till then!" - -And smiling coldly, his dark face looking singularly pale and stern in -the moonlight, Gervase turned away, and, walking with his usual light, -swift, yet leisurely tread, entered the Princess's apartment by the -French window which was still open, and from which the sound of sweet -music came floating deliciously on the air as he disappeared. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - - -In a half-reclining attitude of indolently graceful ease, the Princess -Ziska watched from beneath the slumbrous shadow of her long-fringed -eyelids the approach of her now scarcely-to-be controlled lover. He -came towards her with a certain impetuosity of movement which was so -far removed from ordinary conventionality as to be wholly admirable -from the purely picturesque point of view, despite the fact that it -expressed more passion and impatience than were in keeping with -nineteenth-century customs and manners. He had almost reached her side -before he became aware that there were two other women in the room -besides the Princess,--silent, veiled figures that sat, or rather -crouched, on the floor, holding quaintly carved and inlaid musical -instruments of some antique date in their hands, the only sign of life -about them being their large, dark, glistening almond-shaped eyes, -which were every now and then raised and fixed on Gervase with an -intense and searching look of inquiry. Strangely embarrassed by their -glances, he addressed the Princess in a low tone: - -"Will you not send away your women?" - -She smiled. - -"Yes, presently; if you wish it, I will. But you must hear some music -first. Sit down there," and she pointed with her small jewelled hand to -a low chair near her own. "My lutist shall sing you something,--in -English, of course!--for all the world is being Anglicized by degrees, -and there will soon be no separate nations left. Something, too, of -romantic southern passion is being gradually grafted on to English -sentiment, so that English songs are not so stupid as they were once. I -translated some stanzas from one of the old Egyptian poets into English -the other day, perhaps you will like them. Myrmentis, sing us the 'Song -of Darkness.'" - -An odd sensation of familiarity with the name of "Myrmentis" startled -Gervase as he heard it pronounced, and he looked at the girl who was so -called in a kind of dread. But she did not meet his questioning -regard,--she was already bending over her lute and tuning its strings, -while her companion likewise prepared to accompany her on a similar -though larger instrument, and in an-other moment her voice, full and -rich, with a sobbing passion in it which thrilled him to the inmost -soul, rang out on the warm silence: - - In the darkness what deeds are done! - What wild words spoken! - What joys are tasted, what passion wasted! - What hearts are broken! - Not a glimpse of the moon shall shine, - Not a star shall mark - The passing of night,--or shed its light - On my Dream of the Dark! - - On the scented and slumbrous air, - Strange thoughts are thronging; - And a blind desire more fierce than fire - Fills the soul with longing; - Through the silence heavy and sweet - Comes the panting breath - Of a lover unseen from the Might-Have-Been, - Whose loving is Death! - - In the darkness a deed was done, - A wild word spoken! - A joy was tasted,--a passion wasted,-- - A heart was broken! - Not a glimpse of the moon shall shine, - Not a star shall mark - The passing of night,--or shed its light - On my Dream of the Dark! - -The song died away in a shuddering echo, and before Gervase had time to -raise his eyes from their brooding study of the floor the singer and -her companion had noiselessly disappeared, and he was left alone with -the Princess Ziska. He drew along breath, and turning fully round in -his chair, looked at her steadily. There was a faint smile on her -lips--a smile of mingled mockery and triumph,--her beautiful witch-like -eyes glittered. Leaning towards her, he grasped her hands suddenly in -his own. - -"Now," he whispered, "shall I speak or be silent?" - -"Whichever you please," she responded composedly, still smiling. -"Speech or silence rest equally with yourself. I compel neither." - -"That is false!" he said passionately. "You do compel! Your eyes drag -my very soul out of me--your touch drives me into frenzy! You -temptress! You force me to speak, though you know already what I have -to say! That I love you, love you! And that you love me! That your -whole life leaps to mine as mine to yours! You know all this; if I were -stricken dumb, you could read it in my face, but you will have it -spoken--you will extort from me the whole secret of my madness!--yes, -for you to take a cruel joy in knowing that I AM mad--mad for the love -of you! And you cannot be too often or too thoroughly assured that your -own passion finds its reflex in me!" - -He paused, abruptly checked in his wild words by the sound of her low, -sweet, chill laughter. She withdrew her hands from his burning grasp. - -"My dear friend," she said lightly, "you really have a very excellent -opinion of yourself--excuse me for saying so! 'My own passion!' Do you -actually suppose I have a 'passion' for you?" And rising from her -chair, she drew up her slim supple figure to its full height and looked -at him with an amused and airy scorn. "You are totally mistaken! No one -man living can move me to love; I know all men too well! Their natures -are uniformly composed of the same mixture of cruelty, lust and -selfishness; and forever and forever, through all the ages of the -world, they use the greater part of their intellectual abilities in -devising new ways to condone and conceal their vices. You call me -'temptress';--why? The temptation, if any there be, emanates from -yourself and your own unbridled desires; I do nothing. I am made as I -am made; if my face or my form seems fair in your eyes, this is not my -fault. Your glance lights on me, as the hawk's lights on coveted prey; -but think you the prey loves the hawk in response? It is the mistake -all men make with all women,--to judge them always as being of the same -base material as themselves. Some women there are who shame their -womanhood; but the majority, as a rule, preserve their self-respect -till taught by men to lose it." - -Gervase sprang up and faced her, his eyes flashing dangerously. - -"Do not make any pretence with me!" he said half angrily. "Never tell -me you cannot love! ..." - -"I HAVE loved!" she interrupted him. "As true women love,--once, and -only once. It suffices; not for one lifetime, but many. I loved; and -gave myself ungrudgingly and trustingly to the man my soul worshipped. -I was betrayed, of course!--it is the usual story--quite old, quite -commonplace! I can tell it to you without so much as a blush of pain! -Since then I have not loved,--I have HATED; and I live but for one -thing--Revenge." - -Her face paled as she spoke, and a something vague, dark, spectral and -terrible seemed to enfold her like a cloud where she stood. Anon she -smiled sweetly, and with a bewitching provocativeness. - -"Your 'passion,' you see, my friend awakens rather a singular 'reflex' -in me!--not quite of the nature you imagined!" - -He remained for a moment inert; then, with an almost savage boldness, -threw his arm about her. - -"Have everything your own way, Ziska!" he said in quick, fierce -accents. "I will accept all your fancies, and humor all your caprices. -I will grant that you do not love me--I will even suppose that I am -repellent to you,--but that shall make no difference to my desire! You -shall be mine!--willing or unwilling! If every kiss I take from your -lips be torn from you with reluctance, yet those kisses I will -have!--you shall not escape me! You--you, out of all women in the -world, I choose..." - -"As your wife?" said Ziska slowly, her dark eyes gleaming with a -strange light as she dexterously withdrew herself from his embrace. - -He uttered an impatient exclamation. - -"My wife! Dieu! What a banalite! You, with your exquisite, glowing -beauty and voluptuous charm, you would be a 'wife'--that tiresome -figure-head of utterly dull respectability? You, with your unmatched -air of wild grace and freedom, would submit to be tied down in the -bonds of marriage,--marriage, which to my thinking and that of many -other men of my character, is one of the many curses of this idiotic -nineteenth century! No, I offer you love, Ziska!--ideal, passionate -love!--the glowing, rapturous dream of ecstasy in which such a thing as -marriage would be impossible, the merest vulgar commonplace--almost a -profanity." - -"I understand!" and the Princess Ziska regarded him intently, her -breath coming and going, and a strange smile quivering on her lips. -"You would play the part of an Araxes over again!" - -He smiled; and with all the audacity of a bold and determined nature, -put his arms round her and drew her close up to his breast. - -"Yes," he said, "I would play the part of an Araxes over again!" - -As he uttered the words, an indescribable sensation of horror seized -him--a mist darkened his sight, his blood grew cold, and a tremor shook -him from head to foot. The fair woman's face that was lifted so close -to his own seemed spectral and far off; and for a fleeting moment her -very beauty grew into something like hideousness, as if the strange -effect of the picture he had painted of her was now becoming actual and -apparent--namely, the face of death looking through the mask of life. -Yet he did not loosen his arms from about her waist; on the contrary he -clasped her even more closely, and kept his eyes fixed upon her with -such pertinacity that it seemed as if he expected her to vanish from -his sight while he still held her. - -"To play the part of an Araxes aright," she murmured then in slow and -dulcet accents, "you would need to be cruel and remorseless, and -sacrifice my life--or any woman's life--to your own clamorous and -selfish passion. But you,--Armand Gervase,--educated, civilized, -intellectual, and totally unlike the barbaric Araxes, could not do -that, could you? The progress of the world, the increasing intelligence -of humanity, the coming of the Christ, these things are surely of some -weight with you, are they not? Or are you made of the same savage and -impenitent stuff as composed the once famous yet brutal warrior of old -time? Do you admire the character and spirit of Araxes?--he who, if -history reports him truly, would snatch a woman's life as though it -were a wayside flower, crush out all its sweetness and delicacy, and -then fling it into the dust withered and dead? Do you think that -because a man is strong and famous, he has a right to the love of -woman?--a charter to destroy her as he pleases? If you remember the -story I told you, Araxes murdered with his own hand Ziska-Charmazel the -woman who loved him." - -"He had perhaps grown weary of her," said Gervase, speaking with an -effort, and still studying the exquisite loveliness of the bewitching -face that was so close to his own, like a man in a dream. - -At this she laughed, and laid her two hands on his shoulders with a -close and clinging clasp which thrilled him strangely. - -"Ah, there is the difficulty!" she said. - -"What cure shall ever be found for love-weariness? Men are all like -children--they tire of their toys; hence the frequent trouble and -discomfort of marriage. They grow weary of the same face, the same -caressing arms, the same faithful heart! You, for instance, would grow -weary of me!" - -"I think not," answered Gervase. And now the vague sense of uncertainty -and pain which had distressed him passed away, leaving him fully -self-possessed once more. "I think you are one of those exceptional -women whom a man never grows weary of: like a Cleopatra, or any other -old-world enchantress, you fascinate with a look, you fasten with a -touch, and you have a singular freshness and wild attraction about you -which makes you unlike any other of your sex. I know well enough that I -shall never get the memory of you out of my brain; your face will haunt -me till I die!" - -"And after death?" she queried, half-closing her eyes, and regarding -him languorously through her silky black lashes. - -"Ah, ma belle, after that there is nothing to be done even in the way -of love. Tout est fini! Considering the brevity of life and the -absolute certainty of death, I think that the men and women who are so -foolish as to miss any opportunities of enjoyment while they are alive -deserve more punishment than those who take all they can get, even in -the line of what is called wickedness. Wickedness is a curious thing: -it takes different shapes in different lands, and what is called -'wicked' here, is virtue in, let us say, the Fiji Islands. There is -really no strict rule of conduct in the world, no fixed law of -morality." - -"There is honor!" said the Princess, slowly;--"A code which even -savages recognize." - -He was silent. For a moment he seemed to hesitate; but his indecision -soon passed. His face flushed, and anon grew pale, as closing his arms -more victoriously round the fair woman who just then appeared -voluntarily to yield to his embrace, he bent down and whispered a few -words in the tiny ear, white and delicate as a shell, which was -half-hidden by the rich loose clusters of her luxuriant hair. She -heard, and smiled; and her eyes flashed with a singular ferocity which -he did not see, otherwise it might have startled him. - -"I will answer you to-morrow," she said. "Be patient till then." - -And as she spoke, she released herself determinedly from the clasp of -his arms and withdrew to a little distance, looking at him with a fixed -and searching scrutiny. - -"Do not preach patience to me!" he exclaimed with a laugh. "I never had -that virtue, and I certainly cannot begin to cultivate it now." - -"Had you ever any virtues?" she asked in a playful tone of something -like satire. - -He shrugged his shoulders. - -"I do not know what you consider virtues," he answered lightly: "If -honesty is one, I have that. I make no pretence to be what I am not. I -would not pass off somebody else's picture as my own, for instance. But -I cannot sham to be moral. I could not possibly love a woman without -wanting her all to myself, and I have not the slightest belief in the -sanctimonious humbug of a man who plays the Platonic lover only. But I -don't cheat, and I don't lie. I am what I am. ..." - -"A man!" said Ziska, a lurid and vindictive light dilating and firing -her wonderful eyes. "A man!--the essence of all that is evil, the -possibility of all that is good! But the essence is strong and works; -the possibility is a dream which dissolves in the dreaming!" - -"Yes, you are right, ma chere!" he responded carelessly. "Goodness--as -the world understands goodness--never makes a career for itself worth -anything. Even Christ, who has figured as a symbol of goodness for -eighteen hundred years, was not devoid of the sin of ambition: He -wanted to reign over all Judaea." - -"You view Him in that light?" inquired Ziska with a keen look. "And as -man only?" - -"Why, of course! The idea of an incarnate God has long ago been -discarded by all reasoning thinkers." - -"And what of an incarnate devil?" pursued Ziska, her breath coming and -going quickly. - -"As impossible as the other fancy!" he responded almost gayly. "There -are no gods and no devils, ma belle! The world is ruled by ourselves -alone, and it behoves us to make the best of it. How will you give me -my answer to-morrow? When shall I see you? Speak low and quickly,--Dr. -Dean is coming in here from the garden: when--when?" - -"I will send for you," she answered. - -"At what hour?" - -"The moon rises at ten. And at ten my messenger shall come for you." - -"A trustworthy messenger, I hope? One who knows how to be silent?" - -"As silent as the grave!" she said, looking at him fixedly. "As secret -as the Great Pyramid and the hidden tomb of Araxes!" - -And smiling, she turned to greet Dr. Dean, who just then entered the -saloon. - -"Denzil has gone to bed," he announced. "He begged me to excuse him to -you, Princess. I think the boy is feverish. Egypt doesn't agree with -him." - -"I am sorry he is ill," said the Princess with a charming air of -sympathy. - -"Oh, he isn't exactly ill," returned the Doctor, looking sharply at her -beautiful face as he spoke. "He is simply unnerved and restless. I am a -little anxious about him. I think he ought to go back to England--or -Scotland." - -"I think so, too," agreed Gervase. "And Mademoiselle Helen with him." - -"Mademoiselle Helen you consider very beautiful?" murmured the -Princess, unfurling her fan and waving it indolently to and fro. - -"No, not beautiful," answered the Doctor quickly. "But very pretty, -sweet and lovable--and good." - -"Ah then, of course some one will break her heart!" said the Princess -calmly. "That is what always happens to good women." - -And she smiled as she saw Gervase flush, half with anger, half with -shame. The little Doctor rubbed his nose crossly. - -"Not always, Princess," he said. "Sometimes it does; in fact pretty -often. It is an unfortunate truth that virtue is seldom rewarded in -this world. Virtue in a woman nowadays---" - -"Means no lovers and no fun!" said Gervase gayly. "And the possibility -of a highly decorous marriage with a curate or a bankclerk, followed by -the pleasing result of a family of little curates or little -bank-clerks. It is not a dazzling prospect!" - -The Doctor smiled grimly; then after a wavering moment of indecision, -broke out into a chuckling laugh. - -"You have an odd way of putting things," he said. "But I'm afraid you -may be right in your estimate of the position. Quite as many women are -as miserably sacrificed on the altar of virtue as of vice. It is 'a mad -world,' as Shakespeare says. I hope the next life we pass into after -this one will at least be sane." - -"Well, if you believe in Heaven, you have Testament authority for the -fact that there will be 'neither marriage nor giving in marriage' -there, at any rate," laughed Gervase. "And if we wish to follow that -text out truly in our present state of existence and become 'as the -angels of God' we ought at once to abolish matrimony." - -"Have done! Have done!" exclaimed the Doctor, still smiling, however, -notwithstanding his protest. "You Southern Frenchmen are half -barbarians,--you have neither religion nor morality." - -"Dieu merci!" said Gervase, irreverently; then turning to the Princess -Ziska, he bowed low and with a courtly grace over the hand she extended -towards him in farewell. "Good-night, Princess!"--then in a whisper he -added: "To-morrow I shall await your summons." - -"It will come without fail, never fear!" she answered in equally soft -tones. "I hope it may find you ready." - -He raised his eyes and gave her one long, lingering, passionate look; -then with another "Good-night," which included Dr. Dean, left the room. -The Doctor lingered a moment, studying the face and form of the -Princess with a curiously inquisitive air; while she in her turn -confronted him haughtily, and with a touch of defiance in her aspect. - -"Well," said the savant presently, after a pause: "Now you have got -him, what are you going to do with him?" - -She smiled coldly, but answered nothing. - -"You need not flash your beautiful eyes at me in that eminently -unpleasant fashion," pursued the Doctor, easily. "You see I KNOW YOU, -and I am not afraid of you. I only make a stand against you in one -respect: you shall not kill the boy Denzil." - -"He is nothing to me!" she said, with a gesture of contempt. - -"I know he is nothing to you; but you are something to him. He does not -recognize your nature as I do. I must get him out of the reach of your -spell--" - -"You need not trouble yourself," she interrupted him, a sombre -melancholy darkening her face; "I shall be gone to-morrow." - -"Gone altogether?" inquired the Doctor calmly and without -surprise,--"Not to come back?" - -"Not in this present generation!" she answered. - -Still Dr. Dean evinced no surprise. - -"Then you will have satisfied yourself?" he asked. - -She bent her head. - -"For the time being--yes! I shall have satisfied myself." - -There followed a silence, during which the little Doctor looked at his -beautiful companion with all the meditative interest of a scientist -engaged in working out some intricate and deeply interesting problem. - -"I suppose I may not inquire how you propose to obtain this -satisfaction?" he said. - -"You may inquire, but you will not be answered!" she retorted, smiling -darkly. - -"Your intentions are pitiless?" - -Still smiling, she said not a word. - -"You are impenitent?" - -She remained silent. - -"And, worst of all, you do not desire redemption! You are one of those -who forever and ever cry, 'Evil, be thou my good!' Thus for you, Christ -died in vain!" - -A faint tremor ran through her, but she was still mute. - -"So you and creatures like you, must have their way in the world until -the end," concluded the Doctor, thoughtfully. "And if all the -philosophers that ever lived were to pronounce you what you are, they -would be disbelieved and condemned as madmen! Well, Princess, I am glad -I have never at any time crossed your path till now, or given you cause -of offence against me. We part friends, I trust? Good-night! Farewell!" - -She held out her hand. He hesitated before taking it. - -"Are you afraid?" she queried coldly. "It will not harm you!" - -"I am afraid of nothing," he said, at once clasping the white taper -fingers in his own, "except a bad conscience." - -"That will never trouble you!" and the Princess looked at him full and -steadily. "There are no dark corners in your life--no mean side-alleys -and trap-holes of deceit; you have walked on the open and straight -road. You are a good man and a wise one. But though you, in your -knowledge of spiritual things, recognize me for what I am, take my -advice and be silent on the matter. The world would never believe the -truth, even if you told it, for the time is not yet ripe for men and -women to recognize the avengers of their wicked deeds. They are kept -purposely in the dark lest the light should kill!" - -And with her sombre eyes darkening, yet glowing with the inward fire -that always smouldered in their dazzling depths, she saluted him -gravely and gracefully, watching him to the last as he slowly withdrew. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - - -The next day broke with a bright, hot glare over the wide desert, and -the sky in its cloudless burning blue had more than its usual -appearance of limitless and awful immensity. The Sphinx and the -Pyramids alone gave a shadow and a substance to the dazzling and -transparent air,--all the rest of the visible landscape seemed naught -save a far-stretching ocean of glittering sand, scorched by the blazing -sun. Dr. Maxwell Dean rose early and went down to the hotel breakfast -in a somewhat depressed frame of mind; he had slept badly, and his -dreams had been unpleasant, when not actually ghastly, and he was -considerably relieved, though he could not have told why, when he saw -his young friend Denzil Murray, seated at the breakfast table, -apparently enjoying an excellent meal. - -"Hullo, Denzil!" he exclaimed cheerily, "I hardly expected you down -yet. Are you better?" - -"Thanks, I am perfectly well," said Denzil, with a careless air. "I -thought I would breakfast early in order to drive into Cairo before the -day gets too sultry." - -"Into Cairo!" echoed the Doctor. "Why, aren't you going to stay here a -few days?" - -"No, not exactly," answered Denzil, stirring his coffee quickly and -beginning to swallow it in large gulps. "I shall be back to-night, -though. I'm only going just to see my sister and tell her to prepare -for our journey home. I shan't be absent more than a few hours." - -"I thought you might possibly like to go a little further up the Nile?" -suggested the Doctor. - -"Oh, no, I've had enough of it! You see, when a man proposes to a woman -and gets refused, he can't keep on dangling round that woman as if he -thought it possible she might change her mind." And he forced a smile. -"I've got an appointment with Gervase to-morrow morning, and I must -come back to-night in order to keep it--but after that I'm off." - -"An appointment with Gervase?" repeated the Doctor, slowly. "What sort -of an appointment?" - -Denzil avoided his keen look. - -"Really, Doctor, you are getting awfully inquisitive!" he exclaimed -with a hard laugh. "You want to know altogether too much!" - -"Yes, I always do; it is a habit of mine," responded Dr. Dean, calmly. -"But in the present case, it doesn't need much perspicuity to fathom -your mystery. The dullest clod-hopper will tell you he can see through -a millstone when there's a hole in it. And I was always a good hand at -putting two and two together and making four out of them. You and -Gervase are in love with the same woman; the woman has rejected you and -is encouraging Gervase; Gervase, you think, will on this very night be -in the position of the accepted lover, for which successful fortune, -attending him, you, the rejected one, propose to kill him to-morrow -morning if you can, unless he kills you. And you are going to Cairo to -get your pistols or whatever weapons you have arranged to fight with, -and also to say good-bye to your sister." - -Denzil kept his eyes fixed studiously on the table-cloth and made no -answer. - -"However," continued the Doctor complacently, "you can have it all your -own way as far as I am concerned. I never interfere in these sort of -matters. I should do no good if I attempted it. Besides, I haven't the -slightest anxiety on your behalf--not the slightest. Waiter, some more -coffee, please?" - -"Upon my word!" exclaimed Denzil, with a fretful laugh, "you are a most -extraordinary man, Doctor!" - -"I hope I am!" retorted the Doctor. "To be merely ordinary would not -suit my line of ambition. This is very excellent coffee"--here he -peered into the fresh pot of the fragrant beverage just set before him. -"They make it better here than at the Gezireh Palace. Well, Denzil, my -boy, when you get into Cairo, give my love to Helen and tell her we'll -all go home to the old country together; I, myself, have got quite -enough out of Egypt this time to satisfy my fondness for new -experiences. And let me assure you, my good fellow, that your proposed -duel with Gervase will not come off!" - -"It will come off!" said Denzil, with sudden fierceness. "By Heaven, it -shall!--it must!" - -"More wills than one have the working out of our destinies," answered -Dr. Dean with some gravity. "Man is not by any means supreme. He -imagines he is, but that is only one of his many little delusions. You -think you will have your way; Gervase thinks he will have his way; I -think I will have my way; but as a matter of fact there is only one -person in this affair whose 'way' will be absolute, and that person is -the Princess Ziska. Ce que femme veut Dieu veut." - -"She has nothing whatever to do with the matter," declared Denzil. - -"Pardon! She has everything to do with it. She is the cause of it and -she knows it. And as I have already told you, your proposed fight will -not come off." And the little Doctor smiled serenely. "There is your -carriage at the door, I suppose. Off with you, my boy!--be off like a -whirlwind, and return here armed to the teeth if you like! You have -heard the expression 'fighting the air'? That is what you will do -tomorrow morning!" - -And apparently in the best of all possible humors, Dr. Dean accompanied -his young friend to the portico of the hotel and watched him drive off -down the stately avenue of palm-trees which now cast their refreshing -shade on the entire route from the Pyramids to Cairo. When he had -fairly gone, the thoughtful savant surveyed the different tourists who -were preparing to ascend the Pyramids under the escort of their Arab -guides, regardless of the risks they ran of dislocated arms and broken -shoulder-bones,--and in the study of the various odd types thus -presented to him, he found himself fairly well amused. - -"Protoplasm--mere protoplasm!" he murmured. "The germ of soul has not -yet attained to individual consciousness in any one of these strange -bipeds. Their thoughts are as jelly,--their reasoning powers in -embryo,--their intellectual faculties barely perceptible. Yet they are -interesting, viewed in the same light and considered on the same scale -as fish or insects merely. As men and women of course they are -misnomers,--laughable impossibilities. Well, well!--in the space of two -or three thousand years, the protoplasm may start into form out of the -void, and the fibres of a conscious Intellectuality may sprout,--but it -will have to be in some other phase of existence--certainly not in this -one. And now to shut myself up and write my memoranda--for I must not -lose a single detail of this singular Egyptian psychic problem. The -whole thing I perceive is rounding itself towards completion and -catastrophe--but in what way? How will it--how CAN it end?" - -And with a meditative frown puckering his brows, Dr. Dean folded his -hands behind his back and retired to his own room, from whence he did -not emerge all day. - -Armand Gervase in the meanwhile was making himself the life and soul of -everything at the Mena House Hotel. He struck up an easy acquaintance -with several of the visitors staying there,--said pretty things to -young women and pleasant things to old,--and in the course of a few -hours succeeded in becoming the most popular personage in the place. He -accepted invitations to parties, and agreed to share in various' -excursions, till he engaged himself for every day in the coming week, -and was so gay and gallant and fascinating in manner and bearing that -fair ladies lost their hearts to him at a glance, and what amusement or -pleasure there was at the Mena House seemed to be doubly enhanced by -the mere fact of his presence. In truth Gervase was in a singular mood -of elation and excitation; a strong inward triumph possessed him and -filled his soul with an imperious pride and sense of conquest which, -for the time being, made him feel as though he were a very king of men. -There was nothing in his nature of the noble tenderness which makes the -lover mentally exalt his beloved as a queen before whom he is content -to submit his whole soul in worship; what he realized was merely this: -that here was one of the most beautiful and seductive women ever -created, in the person of the Princess Ziska, and that he, Gervase, -meant to possess that loveliest of women, whatever happened in the near -or distant future. Of her, and of the influence of his passion on her -personally, he did not stop to think, except with the curiously blind -egotism which is the heritage of most men, and which led him to judge -that her happiness would in some way or other be enhanced by his brief -and fickle love. For, as a rule, men do not understand love. They -understand desire, amounting sometimes to merciless covetousness for -what they cannot get,--this is a leading natural characteristic of the -masculine nature--but Love--love that endures silently and faithfully -through the stress of trouble and the passing of years--love which -sacrifices everything to the beloved and never changes or -falters,--this is a divine passion which seldom or never sanctifies and -inspires the life of a man. Women are not made of such base material; -their love invariably springs first from the Ideal, not the Sensual, -and if afterwards it develops into the sensual, it is through the rough -and coarsening touch of man alone. - -Throughout the entire day the Princess Ziska herself never left her -private apartments, and towards late afternoon Gervase began to feel -the hours drag along with unconscionable slowness and monotony. Never -did the sun seem so slow in sinking; never did the night appear so far -off. When at last dinner was served in the hotel, both Denzil Murray -and Dr. Dean sat next to him at table, and, judging from outward -appearances, the most friendly relations existed between all three of -them. At the close of the meal, however, Denzil made a sign to Gervase -to follow him, and when they had reached a quiet corner, said: - -"I am aware of your victory; you have won where I have lost. But you -know my intention?" - -"Perfectly!" responded Gervase, with a cool smile. - -"By Heaven!" went on the younger man, in accents of suppressed fury, -"if I yielded to the temptation which besets me when I see you standing -there facing me, with your easy and self-satisfied demeanor,--when I -know that you mean dishonor where I meant honor,--when you have had the -effrontery to confess to me that you only intend to make the Princess -Ziska your mistress when I would have made her my wife,--God! I could -shoot you dead at this moment!" - -Gervase looked at him steadily, still smiling slightly; then gradually -the smile died away, leaving his countenance shadowed by an intense -melancholy. - -"I can quite enter into your feelings, my dear boy!" he said. "And do -you know, I'm not sure that it would not be a good thing if you were to -shoot me dead! My life is of no particular value to anybody,--certainly -not to myself; and I begin to think I've been always more or less of a -failure. I have won fame, but I have missed--something--but upon my -word, I don't quite know what!" - -He sighed heavily, then suddenly held out his hand. - -"Denzil, the bitterest foes shake hands before fighting each other to -the death, as we propose to do to-morrow; it is a civil custom and -hurts no one, I should like to part kindly from you to-night!" - -Denzil hesitated; then something stronger than himself made him yield -to the impulsive note of strong emotion in his former friend's voice, -and the two men's hands met in a momentary silent grasp. Then Denzil -turned quickly away. - -"To-morrow morning at six," he said, briefly; "close to the Sphinx." - -"Good!" responded Gervase. "The Sphinx shall second us both and see -fair play. Good-night, Denzil!" - -"Good-night!" responded Denzil, coldly, as he moved on and disappeared. - -A slight shiver ran through Gervase's blood as he watched him depart. - -"Odd that I should imagine I have seen the last of him!" he murmured. -"There are strange portents in the air of the desert, I suppose! Is he -going to his death? Or am I going to mine?" - -Again the cold tremor shook him, and combating with his uneasy -sensations, he went to his own apartment, there to await the expected -summons of the Princess. No triumph filled him now; no sense of joy -elated him; a vague fear and dull foreboding were all the emotions he -was conscious of. Even his impatient desire of love had cooled, and he -watched the darkening of night over the desert, and the stars shining -out one by one in the black azure of the heavens, with a gradually -deepening depression. A dreamy sense stole over him of remoteness or -detachment from all visible things, as though he were suddenly and -mysteriously separated from the rest of humankind by an invisible force -which he was powerless to resist. He was still lost in this vague -half-torpor or semi-conscious reverie, when a light tap startled him -back to the realization of earth and his earthly surroundings. In -response to his "Entrez!" the tall Nubian, whom he had seen in Cairo as -the guardian of the Princess's household, appeared, his repulsive -features looking, if anything, more ghastly and hideous than ever. - -"Madame la Princesse demande votre presence!" said this unlovely -attendant of one of the fairest of women. "Suivez-moi!" - -Without a moment's hesitation or loss of time, Gervase obeyed, and -allowing his guide to precede him at a little distance, followed him -through the corridors of the hotel, out at the hall door and beyond, -through the garden. A clock struck ten as they passed into the warm -evening air, and the mellow rays of the moon were beginning to whiten -the sides of the Great Pyramid. A few of the people staying in the -hotel were lounging about, but these paid no particular heed to Gervase -or his companion. At about two hundred yards from the entrance of the -Mena House, the Nubian stopped and waited till Gervase came up with him. - -"Madame la Princesse vous aime, Monsieur Gervase!" he said, with a -sarcastic grin. "Mais,--elle veut que l'Amour soit toujours aveugle! -oui, toujours! C'est le destin qui vous appelle,--il faut soumettre! -L'Amour sans yeux! oui!--en fin,--comme ca!" - -And before Gervase could utter a word of protest, or demand the meaning -of this strange proceeding, his arms was suddenly seized and pinioned -behind his back, his mouth gagged, and his eyes blindfolded. - -"Maintenant," continued the Nubian. "Nous irons ensemble!" - -Choked and mad with rage, Gervase for a few moments struggled furiously -as well as he was able with his powerful captor. All sorts of ideas -surged in his brain: the Princess Ziska might, with all her beauty and -fascination, be nothing but the ruler of a band of robbers and -murderers--who could tell? Yet reason did not wholly desert him in -extremity, for even while he tried to fight for his liberty he -remembered that there was no good to be gained out of taking him -prisoner; he had neither money nor valuables--nothing which could -excite the cupidity of even a starving Bedouin. As this thought crossed -his brain, he ceased his struggles abruptly, and stood still, panting -for breath, when suddenly a sound of singing floated towards him: - - "Oh, for the pure cold heart of the Lotus-Lily! - A star above - Is its only love, - And one brief sigh of its scented breath - Is all it will ever know of Death! - Oh, for the passionless heart of the Lotus-Lily!" - -He listened, and all power of resistance ebbed slowly away from him; he -became perfectly passive--almost apathetic--and yielding to the -somewhat rough handling of his guide, allowed himself to be urged with -silent rapidity onward over the thick sand, till he presently became -conscious that he was leaving the fresh open air and entering a -building of some sort, for his feet pressed hard earth and stone -instead of sand. All at once he was forcibly brought to a standstill, -and a heavy rolling noise and clang, like distant muttered thunder, -resounded in his ears, followed by dead silence. Then his arm was -closely grasped again, and he was led on, on and on, along what seemed -to be an interminable distance, for not a glimmer of light could be -seen under the tight folds of the bandage across his eyes. Presently -the earth shook under him,--some heavy substance was moved, and there -was another booming thunderous noise, accompanied by the falling of -chains. - -"C'est l'escalier de Madame la Princesse!" said the Nubian. "Pres de la -chambre nuptiale! Descendez! Vite!" - -Down--down! Resistance was useless, even had he cared to resist, for he -felt as though twenty pairs of hands instead of one were pushing him -violently on all sides; down, still down he went, dumb, blind and -helpless, till at last he was allowed to stop and breathe. His arms -were released, the bandage was taken from his eyes, the gag from his -mouth--he was free! Free--yes! but where? Thick darkness encompassed -him; he stretched out his hands in the murky atmosphere and felt -nothing. - -"Ziska!" he cried. - -The name sprang up against the silence and struck out numberless -echoes, and with the echoes came a shuddering sigh, that was not of -them, whispering: - -"Charmazel!" - -Gervase heard it, and a deadly fear, born of the supernatural, -possessed him. - -"Ziska! Ziska!" he called again wildly. - -"Charmazel!" answered the penetrating unknown voice; and as it thrilled -upon the air like a sob of pain, a dim light began to shine through the -gloom, waveringly at first, then more steadily, till it gradually -spread wide, illuminating with a pale and spectral light the place in -which he found himself,--a place more weird and wondrous than any -mystic scene in dream-land. He stumbled forward giddily, utterly -bewildered, staring about him like a man in delirium, and speechless -with mingled horror and amazement. He was alone--utterly alone in a -vast square chamber, the walls and roof of which were thickly patterned -and glistening with gold. Squares of gold were set in the very pavement -on which he trod, and at the furthest end of the chamber, a magnificent -sarcophagus of solid gold, encrusted with thousands upon thousands of -jewels, which were set upon it in marvellous and fantastic devices, -glittered and flashed with the hues of living fire. Golden cups, golden -vases, a golden suit of armor, bracelets and chains of gold intermixed -with gems, were heaped up against the walls and scattered on the floor; -and a round shield of ivory inlaid with gold, together with a sword in -a jewelled sheath, were placed in an upright position against the head -of the sarcophagus, from whence all the spectral and mysterious light -seemed to emerge. With thickly beating heart and faltering pulses -Gervase still advanced, gazing half entranced, half terrified at the -extraordinary and sumptuous splendor surrounding him, muttering almost -unconsciously as he moved along: - -"A king's sepulchre,--a warrior's tomb! How came I here?--and why? Is -this a trysting-place for love as well as death?--and will she come to -me? ..." - -He recoiled suddenly with a violent start, for there, like a strange -Spirit of Evil risen from the ground, leaning against the great gold -sarcophagus, her exquisite form scarcely concealed by the misty white -of her draperies, her dark hair hanging like a cloud over her -shoulders, and her black eyes aflame with wrath, menace and passion, -stood the mysterious Ziska! - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - - -Stricken dumb with a ghastly supernatural terror which far exceeded any -ordinary sense of fear, he gazed at her, spellbound, his blood -freezing, his very limbs stiffening, for now--now she looked like the -picture he had painted of her; and Death--Death, livid, tortured and -horrible, stared at him skull-wise from the transparent covering of her -exquisitely tinted seeming-human flesh. Larger and brighter and wilder -grew her eyes as she fixed them on him, and her voice rang through the -silence with an unearthly resonance as she spoke and said: - -"Welcome, my lover, to this abode of love! Welcome to these arms, for -whose embraces your covetous soul has thirsted unappeased! Take all of -me, for I am yours!--aye, so truly yours that you can never escape -me!--never separate from me--no! not through a thousand thousand -centuries! Life of my life! Soul of my soul! Possess me, as I possess -you!--for our two unrepenting spirits form a dual flame in Hell which -must burn on and on to all eternity! Leap to my arms, master and -lord,--king and conqueror! Here, here!" and she smote her white arms -against her whiter bosom. "Take all your fill of burning wickedness--of -cursed joy! and then--sleep! as you have slept before, these many -thousand years!" - -Still mute and aghast he stared at her; his senses swam, his brain -reeled, and then slowly, like the lifting of a curtain on the last -scene of a dire tragedy, a lightning thought, a scorching memory, -sprang into his mind and overwhelmed him like a rolling wave that -brings death in its track. With a fierce oath he rushed towards her, -and seized her hands in his--hands cold as ice and clammy as with the -dews of the grave. - -"Ziska! Woman! Devil! Speak before you drive me to madness! What -passion moves you thus--what mystic fooling? Into what place have I -been decoyed at your bidding? Why am I brought hither? Speak, -speak!--or I shall murder you!" - -"Nay!" she said, and her slight swaying form dilated and grew till she -seemed to rise up from the very ground and to tower above him like an -enraged demon evoked from mist or flame. "You have done that once! To -murder me twice is beyond your power!" And as she spoke her hands -slipped from his like the hands of a corpse newly dead. "Never again -can you hurl forth my anguished soul unprepared to the outer darkness -of things invisible; never again! For I am free!--free with an immortal -freedom--free to work out repentance or revenge,--even as Man is free -to shape his course for good or evil. He chooses evil; I choose -revenge! What place is this, you ask?" and with a majestic gliding -motion she advanced a little and pointed upward to the sparkling -gold-patterned roof. "Above us, the Great Pyramid lifts its summit to -the stars; and here below,--here where you will presently lie, my lover -and lord, asleep in the delicate bosom of love--here..." - -She paused, and a low laugh broke from her lips; then she added slowly -and impressively: - -"Here is the tomb of Araxes!" - -As she spoke, a creeping sense of coldness and horror stole into his -veins like the approach of death,--the strange impressions he had felt, -the haunting and confusing memory he had always had of her face and -voice, the supernatural theories he had lately heard discussed, all -rushed at once upon his mind, and he uttered a loud involuntary cry. - -"My God! What frenzy is this! A woman's vain trick!--a fool's mad -scheme! What is Araxes to me?--or I to Araxes?" - -"Everything!" replied Ziska, the vindictive demon light in her eyes -blazing with a truly frightful intensity. "Inasmuch as ye are one and -the same! The same dark soul of sin--unpurged, uncleansed through ages -of eternal fire! Sensualist! Voluptuary! Accursed spirit of the man I -loved, come forth from the present Seeming-of-things! Come forth and -cling to me! Cling!--for the whole forces of a million universes shall -not separate us! O Eternal Spirits of the Dead!" and she lifted her -ghostly white arms with a wild gesture. "Rend ye the veil! Declare to -the infidel and unbeliever the truth of the life beyond death; the life -wherein ye and I dwell and work, clamoring for late justice!" - -Here she sprang forward and caught the arm of Gervase with all the -fierce eagerness of some ravenous bird of prey; and as she did so he -knew her grasp meant death. - -"Remember the days of old, Araxes! Look back, look back from the -present to the past, and remember the crimes that are still unavenged! -Remember the love sought and won!--remember the broken heart!--remember -the ruined life! Remember the triumphs of war!--the glories of -conquest! Remember the lust of ambition!--the treachery!--the -slaughter!--the blasphemies against high Heaven! Remember the night of -the Feast of Osiris--the Feast of the Sun! Remember how Ziska-Charmazel -awaited her lover, singing alone for joy, in blind faith and blinder -love, his favorite song of the Lotus-Lily! The moon was high, as it is -now!--the stars glittered above the Pyramids, as they glitter now!--in -the palace there was the sound of music and triumph and laughter, and a -whisper on the air of the fickle heart and changeful mood of Araxes; of -another face which charmed him, though less fair than that of -Ziska-Charmazel! Remember, remember!" and she clung closer and closer -as he staggered backward half suffocated by his own emotions and the -horror of her touch. "Remember the fierce word!--the quick and -murderous blow!--the plunge of the jewelled knife up to the hilt in the -passionate white bosom of Charmazel!--the lonely anguish in which she -died! Died,--but to live again and pursue her murderer!--to track him -down to his grave wherein the king strewed gold, and devils strewed -curses!--down, down to the end of all his glory and conquest into the -silence of yon gold-encrusted clay! And out of silence again into sound -and light and fire, ever pursuing, I have followed--followed through a -thousand phases of existence!--and I will follow still through -limitless space and endless time, till the great Maker of this terrible -wheel of life Himself shall say, 'Stop! Here ends even the law of -vengeance!' Oh, for ten thousand centuries more in which to work my -passion and prove my wrong! All the treasure of love despised!--all the -hope of a life betrayed!--all the salvation of heaven denied! Tremble, -Soul of Araxes!--for hate is eternal, as love is eternal!--the veil is -down, and Memory stings!" - -She turned her face, now spectral and pallid as a waning moon, up to -him; her form grew thin and skeleton-like, while still retaining the -transparent outline of its beauty; and he realized at last that no -creature of flesh and blood was this that clung to him, but some -mysterious bodiless horror of the Supernatural, unguessed at by the -outer world of men! The dews of death stood thick on his forehead; -there was a straining agony at his heart, and his breath came in quick -convulsive gasps; but worse than his physical torture was the -overwhelming and convincing truth of the actual existence of the -Spiritual Universe, now so suddenly and awfully revealed. What he had -all his life denied was now declared a certainty; where he had been -deaf and blind, he now heard and saw. Ziska! Ziska-Charmazel! In very -truth he knew he remembered her; in very truth he knew he had loved -her; in very truth he knew he had murdered her! But another still -stranger truth was forcing itself upon him now; and this was, that the -old love of the old old days was arising within him in all its strength -once more, and that he loved her still! Unreal and terrible as it -seemed, it was nevertheless a fact, that as he gazed upon her tortured -face, her beautiful anguished eyes, her phantom form, he felt that he -would give his own soul to rescue hers and lift her from the coils of -vengeance into love again! Her words awoke vibrating pulsations of -thought, long dormant in the innermost recesses of his spirit, which, -like so many dagger-thrusts, stabbed him with a myriad recollections; -and as a disguising cloak may fall from the figure of a friend in a -masquerade, so his present-seeming personality dropped from him and no -longer had any substance. He recognized himself as Araxes--always the -same Soul passing through a myriad changes,--and all the links of his -past and present were suddenly welded together in one unbroken chain, -stretching over thousands of years, every link of which he was able to -count, mark, and recognize. By the dreadful light of that dumb -comprehension which flashes on all parting souls at the moment of -dissolution, he perceived at last that not the Body but the Spirit is -the central secret of life,--not deeds, but thoughts evolve creation. -Death? That was a name merely; there was no death,--only a change into -some other form of existence. What change--what form would be his now? -This thought startled him--roused him,--and once again the low -spirit-voice of his long-ago betrayed and murdered love thrilled in his -ears: - -"Soul of Araxes, cling to my soul!--for this present life is swiftly -passing! No more scorn of the Divine can stand whither we are speeding, -for the Terrible and Eternal Truth overshadows us and our destinies! -Closed are the gates of Heaven,--open wide are the portals of Hell! -Enter with me, my lover Araxes!--die as I died, unprepared and alone! -Die, and pass out into new life again--such life as mine--such torture -as mine--such despair as mine--such hate as mine! ..." - -She ceased abruptly, for he, convinced now of the certainty of -Immortality, was suddenly moved to a strange access of courage and -resolution. Something sweet and subtle stirred in him,--a sense of -power,--a hint of joy, which completely overcame all dread of death. -Old love revived, grew stronger in his soul, and his gaze rested on the -shadowy form beside him, no longer with horror but with tenderness. She -was Ziska-Charmazel,--she had been his love--the dearest portion of his -life--once in the far-off time; she had been the fairest of women--and -more than fair, she had been faithful! Yes, he remembered that, as he -remembered Her! Every curve in her beautiful body had been a joy for -him alone; and for him alone her lips, sweet and fresh as rosebuds, had -kept their kisses. She had loved him as few women have either heart or -strength to love, and he had rewarded her fidelity by death and eternal -torment! A struggling cry escaped him, and he stretched out his arms: - -"Ziska! Forgive--forgive!" - -As he uttered the words, he saw her wan face suddenly change,--all the -terror and torture passed from it like a passing cloud,--beautiful as -an angel's, it smiled upon him,--the eyes softened and flashed with -love, the lips trembled, the spectral form glowed with a living -luminance, and a mystic Glory glittered above the dusky hair! Filled -with ecstasy at the sight of her wondrous loveliness, he felt nothing -of the coldness of death at his heart,--a divine passion inspired him, -and with the last effort of his failing strength he strove to gather -all the spirit-like beauty of her being into his embrace. - -"Love--Love!" he cried. "Not Hate, but Love! Come back out of the -darkness, soul of the woman I wronged! Forgive me! Come back to me! -Hell or Heaven, what matters it if we are together! Come to me,--come! -Love is stronger than Hate!" - -Speech failed him; the cold agony of death gripped at his heart and -struck him mute, but still he saw the beautiful passionate eyes of a -forgiving Love turned gloriously upon him like stars in the black chaos -whither he now seemed rushing. Then came a solemn surging sound as of -great wings beating on a tempestuous air, and all the light in the tomb -was suddenly extinguished. One instant more he stood upright in the -thick darkness; then a burning knife seemed plunged into his breast, -and he reeled forward and fell, his last hold on life being the -consciousness that soft arms were clasping him and drawing him -away--away--he knew not whither--and that warm lips, sweet and tender, -were closely pressed on his. And presently, out of the heavy gloom came -a Voice which said: - -"Peace! The old gods are best, and the law is made perfect. A life -demands a life. Love's debt must be paid by Love! The woman's soul -forgives; the man's repents,--wherefore they are both released from -bondage and the memory of sin. Let them go hence, the curse is lifted!" - -* * * * - -Once more the wavering ghostly light gave luminance to the splendor of -the tomb, and showed where, fallen sideways among the golden treasures -and mementoes of the past, lay the dead body of Armand Gervase. Above -him gleamed the great jewelled sarcophagus; and within touch of his -passive hand was the ivory shield and gold-hilted sword of Araxes. The -spectral radiance gleamed, wandered and flitted over all things,--now -feebly, now brilliantly,--till finally flashing with a pale glare on -the dark dead face, with the proud closed lips and black level brows, -it flickered out; and one of the many countless mysteries of the Great -Pyramid was again hidden in impenetrable darkness. - -* * * * - -Vainly Denzil Marray waited next morning for his rival to appear. He -paced up and down impatiently, watching the rosy hues of sunrise -spreading over the wide desert and lighting up the massive features of -the Sphinx, till as hour after hour passed and still Gervase did not -come, he hurried back to the Mena House Hotel, and meeting Dr. Maxwell -Dean on the way, to him poured out his rage and perplexity. - -"I never thought Gervase was a coward!" he said hotly. - -"Nor should you think so now," returned the Doctor, with a grave and -preoccupied air. "Whatever his faults, cowardice was not one of them. -You see, I speak of him in the past tense. I told you your intended -duel would not come off, and I was right. Denzil, I don't think you -will ever see either Armand Gervase or the Princess Ziska again." - -Denzil started violently. - -"What do you mean? The Princess is here,--here in this very house." - -"Is she?" and Dr. Dean sighed somewhat impatiently. "Well, let us see!" -Then, turning to a passing waiter, he inquired: "Is the Princess Ziska -here still?" - -"No, sir. She left quite suddenly late last night; going on to Thebes, -I believe, sir." - -The Doctor looked meaningly at Denzil. - -"You hear?" - -But Denzil in his turn was interrogating the waiter. - -"Is Mr. Gervase in his room?" - -"No, sir. He went out about ten o'clock yesterday evening, and I don't -think he is coming back. One of the Princess Ziska's servants--the tall -Nubian whom you may have noticed, sir--brought a message from him to -say that his luggage was to be sent to Paris, and that the money for -his bill would be found on his dressing-table. It was all right, of -course, but we thought it rather curious." - -And glancing deferentially from one to the other of his questioners -with a smile, the waiter went on his way. - -"They have fled together!" said Denzil then, in choked accents of fury. -"By Heaven, if I had guessed the plan already formed in his treacherous -mind, I would never have shaken hands with Gervase last night!" - -"Oh, you did shake hands?" queried Dr. Dean, meditatively. "Well, there -was no harm in that. You were right. You and Gervase will meet no more -in this life, believe me! He and the Princess Ziska have undoubtedly, -as you say, fled together--but not to Thebes!" - -He paused a moment, then laid his hand kindly on Denzil's shoulder. - -"Let us go back to Cairo, my boy, and from thence as soon as possible -to England. We shall all be better away from this terrible land, where -the dead have far more power than the living!" - -Denzil stared at him uncomprehendingly. - -"You talk in riddles!" he said, irritably. "Do you think I shall let -Gervase escape me? I will track him wherever he has gone,--I daresay I -shall find him in Paris." - -Dr. Dean took one or two slow turns up and down the corridor where they -were conversing, then stopping abruptly, looked his young friend full -and steadily in the eyes. - -"Come, come, Denzil. No more of this folly," he said, gently. "Why -should you entertain these ideas of vengeance against Gervase? He has -really done you no harm. He was the natural mate of the woman you -imagined you loved,--the response to her query,--the other half of her -being; and that she was and is his destiny, and he hers, should not -excite your envy or hatred. I say you IMAGINED you loved the Princess -Ziska,--it was a young man's hot freak of passion for an almost -matchless beauty, but no more than that. And if you would be frank with -yourself, you know that passion has already cooled. I repeat, you will -never see Gervase or the Princess Ziska again in this life; so make the -best of it." - -"Perhaps you have assisted him to escape me!" said Denzil frigidly. - -Dr. Dean smiled. - -"That's rather a rough speech, Denzil! But never mind!" he returned. -"Your pride is wounded, and you are still sore. Suspect me as you -please,--make me out a new Pandarus, if you like--I shall not be -offended. But you know--for I have often told you--that I never -interfere in love matters. They are too explosive, too vitally -dangerous; outsiders ought never to meddle with them. And I never do. -Come back with me to Cairo. And when we are once more safely -established on the solid and unromantic isles of Britain, you will -forget all about the Princess Ziska; or if you do remember her, it will -only be as a dream in the night, a kind of vague shadow and -uncertainty, which will never seriously trouble your mind. You look -incredulous. I tell you at your age love is little more than a vision; -you must wait a few years yet before it becomes a reality, and then -Heaven help you, Denzil!--for you will be a troublesome fellow to deal -with! Meanwhile, let us get back to Cairo and see Helen." - -Somewhat soothed by the Doctor's good-nature, and a trifle ashamed of -his wrath, Denzil yielded, and the evening saw them both back at the -Gezireh Palace Hotel, where of course the news of the sudden -disappearance of Armand Gervase with the Princess Ziska created the -utmost excitement. Helen Murray shivered and grew pale as death when -she heard it; lively old Lady Fulkeward simpered and giggled, and -declared it was "the most delightful thing she had ever heard of!"--an -elopement in the desert was "so exquisitely romantic!" Sir Chetwynd -Lyle wrote a conventional and stilted account of it for his paper, and -ponderously opined that the immorality of Frenchmen was absolutely -beyond any decent journalist's powers of description. Lady Chetwynd -Lyle, on the contrary, said that the "scandal" was not the fault of -Gervase; it was all "that horrid woman," who had thrown herself at his -head. Ross Courtney thought the whole thing was "queer;" and young Lord -Fulkeward said there was something about it he didn't quite -understand,--something "deep," which his aristocratic quality of -intelligence could not fathom. And society talked and gossiped till -Paris and London caught the rumor, and the name of the famous French -artist, who had so strangely vanished from the scene of his triumphs -with a beautiful woman whom no one had ever heard of before, was soon -in everybody's mouth. No trace of him or of the Princess Ziska could be -discovered; his portmanteau contained no letters or papers,--nothing -but a few clothes; his paint-box and easel were sent on to his deserted -studio in Paris, and also a blank square of canvas, on which, as Dr. -Dean and others knew, had once been the curiously-horrible portrait of -the Princess. But that appalling "first sketch" was wiped out and clean -gone as though it had never been painted, and Dr. Dean called Denzil's -attention to the fact. But Denzil thought nothing of it, as he imagined -that Gervase himself had obliterated it before leaving Cairo. - -A few of the curious among the gossips went to see the house the -Princess had lately occupied, where she had "received" society and -managed to shock it as well. It was shut up, and looked as if it had -not been inhabited for years. And the gossips said it was "strange, -very strange!" and confessed themselves utterly mystified. But the fact -remained that Gervase had disappeared and the Princess Ziska with him. -"However," said Society, "they can't possibly hide themselves for long. -Two such remarkable personalities are bound to appear again somewhere. -I daresay we shall come across them in Paris or on the Riviera. The -world is much too small for the holding of a secret." - -And presently, with the approach of spring, and the gradual break-up of -the Cairo "season," Denzil Murray and his sister sailed from Alexandria -en route for Venice. Dr. Dean accompanied them; so did the Fulkewards -and Ross Courtney. The Chetwynd-Lyles went by a different steamer, -"old" Lady Fulkeward being quite too much for the patience of those -sweet but still unengaged "girls" Muriel and Dolly. One night when the -great ship was speeding swiftly over a calm sea, and Denzil, lost in -sorrowful meditation, was gazing out over the trackless ocean with -pained and passionate eyes which could see nothing but the witching and -exquisite beauty of the Princess Ziska, now possessed and enjoyed by -Gervase, Dr. Dean touched him on the arm and said: - -"Denzil, have you ever read Shakespeare?" - -Denzil started and forced a smile. - -"Why, yes, of course!" - -"Then you know the lines-- - - 'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are -dreamt of in your philosophy?' - -The Princess Ziska was one of those 'things.'" - -Denzil regarded him in wonderment. - -"What do you mean?" - -"Oh, of course, you will think me insane," said the Doctor, resignedly. -"People always take refuge in thinking that those who tell them -uncomfortable truths are lunatics. You've heard me talk of -ghosts?--ghosts that walk and move about us like human beings?--and -they are generally very brilliant and clever impersonations of -humanity, too--and that nevertheless are NOT human?" - -Denzil assented. - -"The Princess Ziska was a ghost!" concluded the Doctor, folding his -arms very tightly across his chest and nodding defiantly. - -"Nonsense!" cried Denzil. "You are mad!" - -"Precisely the remark I thought you would make!" and Dr. Dean unfolded -his arms again and smiled triumphantly. "Therefore, my dear boy, let us -for the future avoid this subject. I know what I know; I can -distinguish phantoms from reality, and I am not deceived by -appearances. But the world prefers ignorance to knowledge, and even so -let it be. Next time I meet a ghost I'll keep my own counsel!" He -paused a moment,--then added: "You remember I told you I was hunting -down that warrior of old time, Araxes?" - -Denzil nodded, a trifle impatiently. - -"Well," resumed the Doctor slowly,--"Before we left Egypt I found him! -But how I found him, and where, is my secret!" - -Society still speaks occasionally of Armand Gervase, and wonders in its -feeble way when he will be "tired" of the Egyptian beauty he ran away -with, or she of him. Society never thinks very far or cares very much -for anything long, but it does certainly expect to see the once famous -French artist "turn up" suddenly, either in his old quarters in Paris, -or in one or the other of the fashionable resorts of the Riviera. That -he should be dead has never occurred to anyone, except perhaps Dr. -Maxwell Dean. But Dr. Dean has grown extremely reticent--almost surly; -and never answers any questions concerning his Scientific Theory of -Ghosts, a work which, when published, created a great deal of -excitement, owing to its singularity and novelty of treatment. There -was the usual "hee-hawing" from the donkeys in the literary pasture, -who fondly imagined their brayings deserved to be considered in the -light of serious opinion;--and then after a while the book fell into -the hands of scientists only,--men who are beginning to understand the -discretion of silence, and to hold their tongues as closely as the -Egyptian priests of old did, aware that the great majority of men are -never ripe for knowledge. Quite lately Dr. Dean attended two -weddings,--one being that of "old" Lady Fulkeward, who has married a -very pretty young fellow of five-and-twenty, whose dearest -consideration in life is the shape of his shirt-collar; the other, that -of Denzil Murray, who has wedded the perfectly well-born, well-bred and -virtuous, if somewhat cold-blooded, daughter of his next-door neighbor -in the Highlands. Concerning his Egyptian experience he never -speaks,--he lives the ordinary life of the Scottish land-owner, looking -after his tenantry, considering the crops, preserving the game, and -clearing fallen timber;--and if the glowing face of the beautiful Ziska -ever floats before his memory, it is only in a vague dream from which -he quickly rouses himself with a troubled sigh. His sister Helen has -never married. Lord Fulkeward proposed to her but was gently rejected, -whereupon the disconsolate young nobleman took a journey to the States -and married the daughter of a millionaire oil-merchant instead. Sir -Chetwynd Lyle and his pig-faced spouse still thrive and grow fat on the -proceeds of the Daily Dial, and there is faint hope that one of their -"girls" will wed an aspiring journalist,--a bold adventurer who wants -"a share in the paper" somehow, even if he has to marry Muriel or Dolly -in order to get it. Ross Courtney is the only man of the party once -assembled at the Gezireh Palace Hotel who still goes to Cairo every -winter, fascinated thither by an annually recurring dim notion that he -may "discover traces" of the lost Armand Gervase and the Princess -Ziska. And he frequently accompanies the numerous sight-seers who -season after season drive from Cairo to the Pyramids, and take pleasure -in staring at the Sphinx with all the impertinence common to pigmies -when contemplating greatness. But more riddles than that of the Sphinx -are lost in the depths of the sandy desert; and more unsolved problems -lie in the recesses of the past than even the restless and inquiring -spirit of modern times will ever discover;--and if it should ever -chance that in days to come, the secret of the movable floor of the -Great Pyramid should be found, and the lost treasures of Egypt brought -to light, there will probably be much discussion and marvel concerning -the Golden Tomb of Araxes. For the hieroglyphs on the jewelled -sarcophagus speak of him thus and say:-- - -"Araxes was a Man of Might, far exceeding in Strength and Beauty the -common sons of men. Great in War, Invincible in Love, he did Excel in -Deeds of Courage and of Conquest,--and for whatsoever Sins he did in -the secret Weakness of humanity commit, the Gods must judge him. But in -all that may befit a Warrior, Amenhotep The King doth give him -honor,--and to the Spirits of Darkness and of Light his Soul is here -commended to its Rest." - -Thus much of the fierce dead hero of old time,--but of the mouldering -corpse that lies on the golden floor of the same tomb, its skeleton -hand touching, almost grasping, the sword of Araxes, what shall be -said? Nothing--since the Old and the New, the Past and the Present, are -but as one moment in the countings of eternity, and even with a late -repentance Love pardons all. - - - - -FINIS. - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Ziska, by Marie Corelli - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ZISKA *** - -***** This file should be named 5079.txt or 5079.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/7/5079/ - -Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Be sure to check the -copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing -this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. - -This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project -Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the -header without written permission. - -Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the -eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is -important information about your specific rights and restrictions in -how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a -donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. - - -**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** - -**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** - -*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** - - -Title: Ziska - The Problem of a Wicked Soul - -Author: Marie Corelli - -Release Date: February, 2004 [EBook #5079] -[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] -[This file was first posted on April 17, 2002] - -Edition: 10 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ZISKA *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. - - - - - - -ZISKA - -THE PROBLEM OF A WICKED SOUL -BY -MARIE CORELLI - - - - -Other Books by the same Author - -THE SORROWS OF SATAN BARABBAS A ROMANCE OF TWO WORLDS THE MIGHTY -ATOM, ETC., ETC. - - - - - - -TO THE PRESENT LIVING RE-INCARNATION OF ARAXES - - - - - - -ZISKA. - -THE PROBLEM OF A WICKED SOUL. - - - - -PROLOGUE. - - -Dark against the sky towered the Great Pyramid, and over its apex -hung the moon. Like a wreck cast ashore by some titanic storm, the -Sphinx, reposing amid the undulating waves of grayish sand -surrounding it, seemed for once to drowse. Its solemn visage that -had impassively watched ages come and go, empires rise and fall, -and generations of men live and die, appeared for the moment to -have lost its usual expression of speculative wisdom and intense -disdain--its cold eyes seemed to droop, its stern mouth almost -smiled. The air was calm and sultry; and not a human foot -disturbed the silence. But towards midnight a Voice suddenly arose -as it were like a wind in the desert, crying aloud: "Araxes! -Araxes!" and wailing past, sank with a profound echo into the deep -recesses of the vast Egyptian tomb. Moonlight and the Hour wove -their own mystery; the mystery of a Shadow and a Shape that -flitted out like a thin vapor from the very portals of Death's -ancient temple, and drifting forward a few paces resolved itself -into the visionary fairness of a Woman's form--a Woman whose dark -hair fell about her heavily, like the black remnants of a long- -buried corpse's wrappings; a Woman whose eyes flashed with an -unholy fire as she lifted her face to the white moon and waved her -ghostly arms upon the air. And again the wild Voice pulsated -through the stillness. - - "Araxes! ... Araxes! Thou art here, - --and I pursue thee! Through life into - death; through death out into life again! - I find thee and I follow! I follow! - Araxes!..." - -Moonlight and the Hour wove their own mystery; and ere the pale -opal dawn flushed the sky with hues of rose and amber the Shadow -had vanished; the Voice was heard no more. Slowly the sun lifted -the edge of its golden shield above the horizon, and the great -Sphinx awaking from its apparent brief slumber, stared in -expressive and eternal scorn across the tracts of sand and tufted -palm-trees towards the glittering dome of El-Hazar--that abode of -profound sanctity and learning, where men still knelt and -worshipped, praying the Unknown to deliver them from the Unseen. -And one would almost have deemed that the sculptured Monster with -the enigmatical Woman-face and Lion-form had strange thoughts in -its huge granite brain; for when the full day sprang in glory over -the desert and illumined its large features with a burning saffron -radiance, its cruel lips still smiled as though yearning to speak -and propound the terrible riddle of old time; the Problem which -killed! - - - - -CHAPTER I. - - -It was the full "season" in Cairo. The ubiquitous Britisher and -the no less ubiquitous American had planted their differing -"society" standards on the sandy soil watered by the Nile, and -were busily engaged in the work of reducing the city, formerly -called Al Kahira or The Victorious, to a more deplorable condition -of subjection and slavery than any old-world conqueror could ever -have done. For the heavy yoke of modern fashion has been flung on -the neck of Al Kahira, and the irresistible, tyrannic dominion of -"swagger" vulgarity has laid The Victorious low. The swarthy -children of the desert might, and possibly would, be ready and -willing to go forth and fight men with men's weapons for the -freedom to live and die unmolested in their own native land; but -against the blandly-smiling, white-helmeted, sun-spectacled, -perspiring horde of Cook's "cheap trippers," what can they do save -remain inert and well-nigh speechless? For nothing like the cheap -tripper was ever seen in the world till our present enlightened -and glorious day of progress; he is a new-grafted type of nomad, -like and yet unlike a man. The Darwin theory asserts itself -proudly and prominently in bristles of truth all over him--in his -restlessness, his ape-like agility and curiosity, his shameless -inquisitiveness, his careful cleansing of himself from foreign -fleas, his general attention to minutiae, and his always voracious -appetite; and where the ape ends and the man begins is somewhat -difficult to discover. The "image of God" wherewith he, together -with his fellows, was originally supposed to be impressed in the -first fresh days of Creation, seems fairly blotted out, for there -is no touch of the Divine in his mortal composition. Nor does the -second created phase-the copy of the Divineo--namely, the Heroic,- --dignify his form or ennoble his countenance. There is nothing of -the heroic in the wandering biped who swings through the streets -of Cairo in white flannels, laughing at the staid composure of the -Arabs, flicking thumb and finger at the patient noses of the small -hireable donkeys and other beasts of burden, thrusting a warm red -face of inquiry into the shadowy recesses of odoriferous bazaars, -and sauntering at evening in the Esbekiyeh Gardens, cigar in mouth -and hands in pockets, looking on the scene and behaving in it as -if the whole place were but a reflex of Earl's Court Exhibition. -History affects the cheap tripper not at all; he regards the -Pyramids as "good building" merely, and the inscrutable Sphinx -itself as a fine target for empty soda-water bottles, while -perhaps his chiefest regret is that the granite whereof the -ancient monster is hewn is too hard for him to inscribe his -distinguished name thereon. It is true that there is a punishment -inflicted on any person or persons attempting such wanton work--a -fine or the bastinado; yet neither fine nor bastinado would affect -the "tripper" if he could only succeed in carving "'Arry" on the -Sphinx's jaw. But he cannot, and herein is his own misery. -Otherwise he comports himself in Egypt as he does at Margate, with -no more thought, reflection, or reverence than dignify the -composition of his far-off Simian ancestor. - -Taking him all in all, he is, however, no worse, and in some -respects better, than the "swagger" folk who "do" Egypt, or -rather, consent in a languid way to be "done" by Egypt. These are -the people who annually leave England on the plea of being unable -to stand the cheery, frosty, and in every respect healthy winter -of their native country--that winter, which with its wild winds, -its sparkling frost and snow, its holly trees bright with scarlet -berries, its merry hunters galloping over field and moor during -daylight hours, and its great log fires roaring up the chimneys at -evening, was sufficiently good for their forefathers to thrive -upon and live through contentedly up to a hale and hearty old age -in the times when the fever of travelling from place to place was -an unknown disease, and home was indeed "sweet home." Infected by -strange maladies of the blood and nerves, to which even scientific -physicians find it hard to give suitable names, they shudder at -the first whiff of cold, and filling huge trunks with a thousand -foolish things which have, through luxurious habit, become -necessities to their pallid existences, they hastily depart to the -Land of the Sun, carrying with them their nameless languors, -discontents and incurable illnesses, for which Heaven itself, much -less Egypt, could provide no remedy. It is not at all to be -wondered at that these physically and morally sick tribes of human -kind have ceased to give any serious attention as to what may -possibly become of them after death, or whether there IS any -"after," for they are in the mentally comatose condition which -precedes entire wreckage of brain-force; existence itself has -become a "bore;" one place is like another, and they repeat the -same monotonous round of living in every spot where they -congregate, whether it be east, west, north, or south. On the -Riviera they find little to do except meet at Rumpelmayer's at -Cannes, the London House at Nice, or the Casino at Monte-Carlo; -and in Cairo they inaugurate a miniature London "season" over -again, worked in the same groove of dinners, dances, drives, -picnics, flirtations, and matrimonial engagements. But the Cairene -season has perhaps some advantage over the London one so far as -this particular set of "swagger" folk are concerned--it is less -hampered by the proprieties. One can be more "free," you know! You -may take a little walk into "Old" Cairo, and turning a corner you -may catch glimpses of what Mark Twain calls "Oriental simplicity," -namely, picturesquely-composed groups of "dear delightful" Arabs -whose clothing is no more than primitive custom makes strictly -necessary. These kind of "tableaux vivants" or "art studies" give -quite a thrill of novelty to Cairene-English Society,--a touch of -savagery,--a soupcon of peculiarity which is entirely lacking to -fashionable London. Then, it must be remembered that the "children -of the desert" have been led by gentle degrees to understand that -for harboring the strange locusts imported into their land by -Cook, and the still stranger specimens of unclassified insect -called Upper Ten, which imports itself, they will receive -"backsheesh." - -"Backsheesh" is a certain source of comfort to all nations, and -translates itself with sweetest euphony into all languages, and -the desert-born tribes have justice on their side when they demand -as much of it as they can get, rightfully or wrongfully. They -deserve to gain some sort of advantage out of the odd-looking -swarms of Western invaders who amaze them by their dress and -affront them by their manners. "Backsheesh," therefore, has become -the perpetual cry of the Desert-Born,--it is the only means of -offence and defence left to them, and very naturally they cling to -it with fervor and resolution. And who shall blame them? The tall, -majestic, meditative Arab--superb as mere man, and standing naked- -footed on his sandy native soil, with his one rough garment flung -round his loins and his great black eyes fronting, eagle-like, the -sun--merits something considerable for condescending to act as -guide and servant to the Western moneyed civilian who clothes his -lower limbs in straight, funnel-like cloth casings, shaped to the -strict resemblance of an elephant's legs, and finishes the -graceful design by enclosing the rest of his body in a stiff shirt -wherein he can scarcely move, and a square-cut coat which divides -him neatly in twain by a line immediately above the knee, with the -effect of lessening his height by several inches. The Desert-Born -surveys him gravely and in civil compassion, sometimes with a -muttered prayer against the hideousness of him, but on the whole -with patience and equanimity,--influenced by considerations of -"backsheesh." And the English "season" whirls lightly and -vaporously, like blown egg-froth, over the mystic land of the old -gods,--the terrible land filled with dark secrets as yet -unexplored,--the land "shadowing with wings," as the Bible hath -it,--the land in which are buried tremendous histories as yet -unguessed,--profound enigmas of the supernatural,--labyrinths of -wonder, terror and mystery,--all of which remain unrevealed to the -giddy-pated, dancing, dining, gabbling throng of the fashionable -travelling lunatics of the day,--the people who "never think -because it is too much trouble," people whose one idea is to -journey from hotel to hotel and compare notes with their -acquaintances afterwards as to which house provided them with the -best-cooked food. For it is a noticeable fact that with most -visitors to the "show" places of Europe and the East, food, -bedding and selfish personal comfort are the first -considerations,--the scenery and the associations come last. -Formerly the position was reversed. In the days when there were no -railways, and the immortal Byron wrote his Childe Harold, it was -customary to rate personal inconvenience lightly; the beautiful or -historic scene was the attraction for the traveller, and not the -arrangements made for his special form of digestive apparatus. -Byron could sleep on the deck of a sailing vessel wrapped in his -cloak and feel none the worse for it; his well-braced mind and -aspiring spirit soared above all bodily discomforts; his thoughts -were engrossed with the mighty teachings of time; he was able to -lose himself in glorious reveries on the lessons of the past and -the possibilities of the future; the attitude of the inspired -Thinker as well as Poet was his, and a crust of bread and cheese -served him as sufficiently on his journeyings among the then -unspoilt valleys and mountains of Switzerland as the warm, greasy, -indigestible fare of the elaborate table-d'hotes at Lucerne and -Interlaken serve us now. But we, in our "superior" condition, -pooh-pooh the Byronic spirit of indifference to events and scorn -of trifles,--we say it is "melodramatic," completely forgetting -that our attitude towards ourselves and things in general is one -of most pitiable bathos. We cannot write Childe Harold, but we can -grumble at both bed and board in every hotel under the sun; we can -discover teasing midges in the air and questionable insects in the -rooms; and we can discuss each bill presented to us with an -industrious persistence which nearly drives landlords frantic and -ourselves as well. In these kind of important matters we are -indeed "superior" to Byron and other ranting dreamers of his type, -but we produce no Childe Harolds, and we have come to the strange -pass of pretending that Don Juan is improper, while we pore over -Zola with avidity! To such a pitch has our culture brought us! -And, like the Pharisee in the Testament, we thank God we are not -as others are. We are glad we are not as the Arab, as the African, -as the Hindoo; we are proud of our elephant-legs and our dividing -coat-line; these things show we are civilized, and that God -approves of us more than any other type of creature ever created. -We take possession of nations, not by thunder of war, but by -clatter of dinner-plates. We do not raise armies, we build hotels; -and we settle ourselves in Egypt as we do at Homburg, to dress and -dine and sleep and sniff contempt on all things but ourselves, to -such an extent that we have actually got into the habit of calling -the natives of the places we usurp "foreigners." WE are the -foreigners; but somehow we never can see it. Wherever we -condescend to build hotels, that spot we consider ours. We are -surprised at the impertinence of Frankfort people who presume to -visit Homburg while we are having our "season" there; we wonder -how they dare do it! And, of a truth, they seem amazed at their -own boldness, and creep shyly through the Kur-Garten as though -fearing to be turned out by the custodians. The same thing occurs -in Egypt; we are frequently astounded at what we call "the -impertinence of these foreigners," i.e. the natives. They ought to -be proud to have us and our elephant-legs; glad to see such noble -and beautiful types of civilization as the stout parvenu with his -pendant paunch, and his family of gawky youths and maidens of the -large-toothed, long-limbed genus; glad to see the English "mamma," -who never grows old, but wears young hair in innocent curls, and -has her wrinkles annually "massaged" out by a Paris artiste in -complexion. The Desert-Born, we say, should be happy and grateful -to see such sights, and not demand so much "backsheesh." In fact, -the Desert-Born should not get so much in our way as he does; he -is a very good servant, of course, but as a man and a brother-- -pooh! Egypt may be his country, and he may love it as much as we -love England; but our feelings are more to be considered than his, -and there is no connecting link of human sympathy between -Elephant-Legs and sun-browned Nudity! - -So at least thought Sir Chetwynd Lyle, a stout gentleman of coarse -build and coarser physiognomy, as he sat in a deep arm-chair in -the great hall or lounge of the Gezireh Palace Hotel, smoking -after dinner in the company of two or three acquaintances with -whom he had fraternized during his stay in Cairo. Sir Chetwynd was -fond of airing his opinions for the benefit of as many people who -cared to listen to him, and Sir Chetwynd had some right to his -opinions, inasmuch as he was the editor and proprietor of a large -London newspaper. His knighthood was quite a recent distinction, -and nobody knew exactly how he had managed to get it. He had -originally been known in Fleet Street by the irreverent sobriquet -of "greasy Chetwynd," owing to his largeness, oiliness and general -air of blandly-meaningless benevolence. He had a wife and two -daughters, and one of his objects in wintering at Cairo was to get -his cherished children married. It was time, for the bloom was -slightly off the fair girl-roses,--the dainty petals of the -delicate buds were beginning to wither. And Sir Chetwynd had heard -much of Cairo; he understood that there was a great deal of -liberty allowed there between men and maids,--that they went out -together on driving excursions to the Pyramids, that they rode on -lilliputian donkeys over the sand at moonlight, that they floated -about in boats at evening on the Nile, and that, in short, there -were more opportunities of marriage among the "flesh-pots of -Egypt" than in all the rush and crush of London. So here he was, -portly and comfortable, and on the whole well satisfied with his -expedition; there were a good many eligible bachelors about, and -Muriel and Dolly were really doing their best. So was their -mother, Lady Chetwynd Lyle; she allowed no "eligible" to escape -her hawk-like observation, and on this particular evening she was -in all her glory, for there was to be a costume ball at the -Gezireh Palace Hotel,--a superb affair, organized by the -proprietors for the amusement of their paying guests, who -certainly paid well,--even stiffly. Owing to the preparations that -were going on for this festivity, the lounge, with its sumptuous -Egyptian decorations and luxurious modern fittings, was well-nigh -deserted save for Sir Chetwynd and his particular group of -friends, to whom he was holding forth, between slow cigar-puffs, -on the squalor of the Arabs, the frightful thievery of the Sheiks, -the incompetency of his own special dragoman, and the mistake -people made in thinking the Egyptians themselves a fine race. - -"They are tall, certainly," said Sir Chetwynd, surveying his -paunch, which lolled comfortably, and as it were by itself, in -front of him, like a kind of waistcoated air-balloon. "I grant you -they are tall. That is, the majority of them are. But I have seen -short men among them. The Khedive is not taller than I am. And the -Egyptian face is very deceptive. The features are often fine,-- -occasionally classic,--but intelligent expression is totally -lacking." - -Here Sir Chetwynd waved his cigar descriptively, as though he -would fain suggest that a heavy jaw, a fat nose with a pimple at -the end, and a gross mouth with black teeth inside it, which were -special points in his own physiognomy, went further to make up -"intelligent expression" than any well-moulded, straight, Eastern -type of sun-browned countenance ever seen or imagined. - -"Well, I don't quite agree with you there," said a man who was -lying full length on one of the divans close by and smoking. -"These brown chaps have deuced fine eyes. There doesn't seem to be -any lack of expression in them. And that reminds me, there is at -fellow arrived here to-day who looks for all the world like an -Egyptian, of the best form. He is a Frenchman, though; a -Provencal,--every one knows him,--he is the famous painter, Armand -Gervase." - -"Indeed!"--and Sir Chetwynd roused himself at the name--"Armand -Gervase! THE Armand Gervase?" - -"The only one original," laughed the other. "He's come here to -make studies of Eastern women. A rare old time he'll have among -them, I daresay! He's not famous for character. He ought to paint -the Princess Ziska." - -"Ah, by-the-bye, I wanted to ask you about that lady. Does anyone -know who she is? My wife is very anxious to find out whether she -is--well--er--quite the proper person, you know! When one has -young girls, one cannot be too careful." - -Ross Courtney, the man on the divan, got up slowly and stretched -his long athletic limbs with a lazy enjoyment in the action. He -was a sporting person with unhampered means and large estates in -Scotland and Ireland; he lived a joyous, "don't-care" life of -wandering about the world in search of adventures, and he had a -scorn of civilized conventionalities--newspapers and their editors -among them. And whenever Sir Chetwynd spoke of his "young girls" -he was moved to irreverent smiling, as he knew the youngest of the -twain was at least thirty. He also recognized and avoided the wily -traps and pitfalls set for him by Lady Chetwynd Lyle in the hope -that he would yield himself up a captive to the charms of Muriel -or Dolly; and as he thought of these two fair ones now and -involuntarily compared them in his mind with the other woman just -spoken of, the smile that had begun to hover on his lips deepened -unconsciously till his handsome face was quite illumined with its -mirth. - -"Upon my word, I don't think it matters who anybody is in Cairo!" -he said with a fine carelessness. "The people whose families are -all guaranteed respectable are more lax in their behavior than the -people one knows nothing about. As for the Princess Ziska, her -extraordinary beauty and intelligence would give her the entree -anywhere--even if she hadn't money to back those qualities up." - -"She's enormously wealthy, I hear," said young Lord Fulkeward, -another of the languid smokers, caressing his scarcely perceptible -moustache. "My mother thinks she is a divorcee." - -Sir Chetwynd looked very serious, and shook his fat head solemnly. - -"Well, there is nothing remarkable in being divorced, you know," -laughed Ross Courtney. "Nowadays it seems the natural and fitting -end of marriage." - -Sir Chetwynd looked graver still. He refused to be drawn into this -kind of flippant conversation. He, at any rate, was respectably -married; he had no sympathy whatever with the larger majority of -people whose marriages were a failure. - -"There is no Prince Ziska then?" he inquired. "The name sounds to -me of Russian origin, and I imagined--my wife also imagined,--that -the husband of the lady might very easily be in Russia while his -wife's health might necessitate her wintering in Egypt. The -Russian winter climate is inclement, I believe." - -"That would be a very neat arrangement," yawned Lord Fulkeward. -"But my mother thinks not. My mother thinks there is not a husband -at all,--that there never was a husband. In fact my mother has -very strong convictions on the subject. But my mother intends to -visit her all the same." - -"She does? Lady Fulkeward has decided on that? Oh, well, in THAT -case!"--and Sir Chetwynd expanded his lower-chest air-balloon. "Of -course, Lady Chetwynd Lyle can no longer have any scruples on the -subject. If Lady Fulkeward visits the Princess there can be no -doubt as to her actual STATUS." - -"Oh, I don't know!" murmured Lord Fulkeward, stroking his downy -lip. "You see my mother's rather an exceptional person. When the -governor was alive she hardly ever went out anywhere, you know, -and all the people who came to our house in Yorkshire had to bring -their pedigrees with them, so to speak. It was beastly dull! But -now my mother has taken to 'studying character,' don'cher know; -she likes all sorts of people about her, and the more mixed they -are the more she is delighted with them. Fact, I assure you! Quite -a change has come over my mother since the poor old governor -died!" - -Ross Courtney looked amused. A change indeed had come over Lady -Fulkeward--a change, sudden, mysterious and amazing to many of her -former distinguished friends with "pedigrees." In her husband's -lifetime her hair had been a soft silver-gray; her face pale, -refined and serious; her form full and matronly; her step sober -and discreet; but two years after the death of the kindly and -noble old lord who had cherished her as the apple of his eye and -up to the last moment of his breath had thought her the most -beautiful woman in England, she appeared with golden tresses, a -peach-bloom complexion, and a figure which had been so massaged, -rubbed, pressed and artistically corseted as to appear positively -sylph-like. She danced like a fairy, she who had once been called -"old" Lady Fulkeward; she smoked cigarettes; she laughed like a -child at every trivial thing--any joke, however stale, flat and -unprofitable, was sufficient to stir her light pulses to -merriment; and she flirted--oh, heavens!--HOW she flirted!--with a -skill and a grace and a knowledge and an aplomb that nearly drove -Muriel and Dolly Chetwynd Lyle frantic. They, poor things, were -beaten out of the field altogether by her superior tact and art of -"fence," and they hated her accordingly and called her in private -a "horrid old woman," which perhaps, when her maid undressed her, -she was. But she was having a distinctly "good time" in Cairo; she -called her son, who was in delicate health, "my poor dear little -boy!" and he, though twenty-eight on his last birthday, was -reduced to such an abject condition of servitude by her -assertiveness, impudent gayety and general freedom of manner, that -he could not open his mouth without alluding to "my mother," and -using "my mother" as a peg whereon to hang all his own opinions -and emotions as well as the opinions and emotions of other people. - -"Lady Fulkeward admires the Princess very much, I believe?" said -another lounger who had not yet spoken. - -"Oh, as to that!"--and Lord Fulkeward roused himself to some faint -show of energy. "Who wouldn't admire her? By Jove! Only, I tell -you what--there's something I weird about her eyes. Fact! I don't -like her eyes." - -"Shut up, Fulke! She has beautiful eyes!" burst out Courtney, -hotly; then flushing suddenly he bit his lips and was silent. - -"Who is this that has beautiful eyes?" suddenly demanded a slow, -gruff voice, and a little thin gentleman, dressed in a kind of -academic gown and cap, appeared on the scene. - -"Hullo! here's our F.R.S.A.!" exclaimed Lord Fulkeward. "By Jove! -Is that the style you have got yourself up in for tonight? It -looks awfully smart, don'cher know!" - -The personage thus complimented adjusted his spectacles and -surveyed his acquaintances with a very well-satisfied air. In -truth, Dr. Maxwell Dean had some reason for self-satisfaction, if -the knowledge that he possessed one of the cleverest heads in -Europe could give a man cause for pride. He was apparently the -only individual in the Gezireh Palace Hotel who had come to Egypt -for any serious purpose. A purpose he had, though what it was he -declined to explain. Reticent, often brusque, and sometimes -mysterious in his manner of speech, there was not the slightest -doubt that he was at work on something, and that he also had a -very trying habit of closely studying every object, small or -great, that came under his observation. He studied the natives to -such an extent that he knew every differing shade of color in -their skins; he studied Sir Chetwynd Lyle and knew that he -occasionally took bribes to "put things" into his paper; he -studied Dolly and Muriel Chetwynd Lyle, and knew that they would -never succeed in getting husbands; he studied Lady Fulkeward, and -thought her very well got up for sixty; he studied Ross Courtney, -and knew he would never do anything but kill animals all his life; -and he studied the working of the Gezireh Palace Hotel, and saw a -fortune rising out of it for the proprietors. But apart from these -ordinary surface things, he studied other matters--"occult" -peculiarities of temperament, "coincidences," strange occurrences -generally. He could read the Egyptian hieroglyphs perfectly, and -he understood the difference between "royal cartouche" scarabei -and Birmingham-manufactured ones. He was never dull; he had plenty -to do; and he took everything as it came in its turn. Even the -costume ball for which he had now attired himself did not present -itself to him as a "bore," but as a new vein of information, -opening to him fresh glimpses of the genus homo as seen in a state -of eccentricity. - -"I think," he now said, complacently, "that the cap and gown look -well for a man of my years. It is a simple garb, but cool, -convenient and not unbecoming. I had thought at first of adopting -the dress of an ancient Egyptian priest, but I find it difficult -to secure the complete outfit. I would never wear a costume of the -kind that was not in every point historically correct." - -No one smiled. No one would have dared to smile at Dr. Maxwell -Dean when he spoke of "historically correct" things. He had -studied them as he had studied everything, and he knew all about -them. - -Sir Chetwynd murmured: - -"Quite right--er--the ancient designs were very elaborate--" - -"And symbolic," finished Dr. Dean. "Symbolic of very curious -meanings, I assure you. But I fear I have interrupted your talk. -Mr. Courtney was speaking about somebody's beautiful eyes; who is -the fair one in question?" - -"The Princess Ziska," said Lord Fulkeward. "I was saying that I -don't quite like the look of her eyes." - -"Why not? Why not?" demanded the doctor with sudden asperity. -"What's the matter with them?" - -"Everything's the matter with them!" replied Ross Courtney with a -forced laugh. "They are too splendid and wild for Fulke; he likes -the English pale-blue better than the Egyptian gazelle-black." - -"No, I don't," said Lord Fulkeward, speaking more animatedly than -was customary with him. "I hate, pale-blue eyes. I prefer soft -violet-gray ones, like Miss Murray's." - -"Miss Helen Murray is a very charming young lady," said Dr. Dean. -"But her beauty is quite of an ordinary type, while that of the -Princess Ziska--" - -"Is EXTRA-ordinary--exactly! That's just what I say!" declared -Courtney. "I think she is the loveliest woman I have ever seen." - -There was a pause, during which the little doctor looked with a -ferret-like curiosity from one man to the other. Sir Chetwynd Lyle -rose ponderously up from the depths of his arm-chair. - -"I think," said he, "I had better go and get into my uniform--the -Windsor, you know! I always have it with me wherever I go; it -comes in very useful for fancy balls such as the one we are going -to have tonight, when no particular period is observed in costume. -Isn't it about time we all got ready?" - -"Upon my life, I think it is!" agreed Lord Fulkeward. "I am coming -out as a Neapolitan fisherman! I don't believe Neapolitan -fishermen ever really dress in the way I'm going to make up, but -it's the accepted stage-type, don'cher know." - -"Ah! I daresay you will look very well in it," murmured Ross -Courtney, vaguely. "Hullo! here comes Denzil Murray!" - -They all turned instinctively to watch the entrance of a handsome -young man, attired in the picturesque garb worn by Florentine -nobles during the prosperous reign of the Medicis. It was a -costume admirably adapted to the wearer, who, being grave and -almost stern of feature, needed the brightness of jewels and the -gloss of velvet and satin to throw out the classic contour of his -fine head and enhance the lustre of his brooding, darkly- -passionate eyes. Denzil Murray was a pure-blooded Highlander,--the -level brows, the firm lips, the straight, fearless look, all -bespoke him a son of the heather-crowned mountains and a -descendant of the proud races that scorned the "Sassenach," and -retained sufficient of the material whereof their early Phoenician -ancestors were made to be capable of both the extremes of hate and -love in their most potent forms. He moved slowly towards the group -of men awaiting his approach with a reserved air of something like -hauteur; it was possible he was conscious of his good looks, but -it was equally evident that he did not desire to be made the -object of impertinent remark. His friends silently recognized -this, and only Lord Fulkeward, moved to a mild transport of -admiration, ventured to comment on his appearance. - -"I say, Denzil, you're awfully well got up! Awfully well! -Magnificent!" - -Denzil Murray bowed with a somewhat wearied and sarcastic air. - -"When one is in Rome, or Egypt, one must do as Rome, or Egypt, -does," he said, carelessly. "If hotel proprietors will give fancy -balls, it is necessary to rise to the occasion. You look very -well, Doctor. Why don't you other fellows go and get your -toggeries on? It's past ten o'clock, and the Princess Ziska will -be here by eleven." - -"There are other people coming besides the Princess Ziska, are -there not, Mr. Murray?" inquired Sir Chetwynd Lyle, with an -obtrusively bantering air. - -Denzil Murray glanced him over disdainfully. - -"I believe there are," he answered coolly. "Otherwise the ball -would scarcely pay its expenses. But as the Princess is admittedly -the most beautiful woman in Cairo this season, she will naturally -be the centre of attraction. That's why I mentioned she would be -here at eleven." - -"She told you that?" inquired Ross Courtney. - -"She did." - -Courtney looked up, then down, and seemed about to speak again, -but checked himself and finally strolled off, followed by Lord -Fulkeward. - -"I hear," said Dr. Dean then, addressing Denzil Murray, "that a -great celebrity has arrived at this hotel--the painter, Armand -Gervase." - -Denzil's face brightened instantly with a pleasant smile. - -"The dearest friend I have in the world!" he said. "Yes, he is -here. I met him outside the door this afternoon. We are very old -chums. I have stayed with him in Paris, and he has stayed with me -in Scotland. A charming fellow! He is very French in his ideas; -but he knows England well, and speaks English perfectly." - -"French in his ideas!" echoed Sir Chetwynd Lyle, who was just -preparing to leave the lounge. "Dear me! How is that?" - -"He is a Frenchman," said Dr. Dean, suavely. "Therefore that his -ideas should be French ought not to be a matter of surprise to us, -my dear Sir Chetwynd." - -Sir Chetwynd snorted. He had a suspicion that he--the editor and -proprietor of the Daily Dial--was being laughed at, and he at once -clambered on his high horse of British Morality. - -"Frenchman or no Frenchman," he observed, "the ideas promulgated -in France at the present day are distinctly profane and -pernicious. There is a lack of principle--a want of rectitude in-- -er--the French Press, for example, that is highly deplorable." - -"And is the English Press immaculate?" asked Denzil languidly. - -"We hope so," replied Sir Chetwynd. "We do our best to make it -so." - -And with that remark he took his paunch and himself away into -retirement, leaving Dr. Dean and young Murray facing each other, a -singular pair enough in the contrast of their appearance and -dress,--the one small, lean and wiry, in plain-cut, loose-flowing -academic gown; the other tall, broad and muscular, clad in the -rich attire of mediaeval Florence, and looking for all the world -like a fine picture of that period stepped out from, its frame. -There was a silence between them for a moment,--then the Doctor -spoke in a low tone: - -"It won't do, my dear boy,--I assure you it won't do! You will -break your heart over a dream, and make yourself miserable for -nothing. And you will break your sister's heart as well; perhaps -you haven't thought of that?" - -Denzil flung himself into the chair Sir Chetwynd had just vacated, -and gave vent to a sigh that was almost a groan. - -"Helen doesn't know anything--yet," he said hoarsely. "I know -nothing myself; how can I? I haven't said a word to--to HER. If I -spoke all that was in my mind, I daresay she would laugh at me. -You are the only one who has guessed my secret. You saw me last -night when I--when I accompanied her home. But I never passed her -palace gates,--she wouldn't let me. She bade me 'good-night' -outside; a servant admitted her, and she vanished through the -portal like a witch or a ghost. Sometimes I fancy she IS a ghost. -She is so white, so light, so noiseless and so lovely!" - -He turned his eyes away, ashamed of the emotion that moved him. -Dr. Maxwell Dean took off his academic cap and examined its -interior as though he considered it remarkable. - -"Yes," he said slowly; "I have thought the same thing of her -myself--sometimes." - -Further conversation was interrupted by the entrance of the -military band of the evening, which now crossed the "lounge," each -man carrying his instrument with him; and these were followed by -several groups of people in fancy dress, all ready and eager for -the ball. Pierrots and Pierrettes, monks in drooping cowls, -flower-girls, water-carriers, symbolic figures of "Night" and -"Morning," mingled with the counterfeit presentments of dead-and- -gone kings and queens, began to flock together, laughing and -talking on their way to the ball-room; and presently among them -came a man whose superior height and build, combined with his -eminently picturesque, half-savage type of beauty, caused every -one to turn and watch him as he passed, and murmur whispering -comments on the various qualities wherein he differed from -themselves. He was attired for the occasion as a Bedouin chief, -and his fierce black eyes, and close-curling, dark hair, combined -with the natural olive tint of his complexion, were well set off -by the snowy folds of his turban and the whiteness of his entire -costume, which was unrelieved by any color save at the waist, -where a gleam of scarlet was shown in the sash which helped to -fasten a murderous-looking dagger and other "correct" weapons of -attack to his belt. He entered the hall with a swift and -singularly light step, and made straight for Denzil Murray. - -"Ah! here you are!" he said, speaking English with a slight -foreign accent, which was more agreeable to the ear than -otherwise. "But, my excellent boy, what magnificence! A Medici -costume! Never say to me that you are not vain; you are as -conscious of your good looks as any pretty woman. Behold me, how -simple and unobtrusive I am!" - -He laughed, and Murray sprang up from the chair where he had been -despondently reclining. - -"Oh, come, I like that!" he exclaimed. "Simple and unobtrusive! -Why everybody is staring at you now as if you had dropped from the -moon! You cannot be Armand Gervase and simple and unobtrusive at -the same time!" - -"Why not?" demanded Gervase, lightly. "Fame is capricious, and her -trumpet is not loud enough to be heard all over the world at once. -The venerable proprietor of the dirty bazaar where I managed to -purchase these charming articles of Bedouin costume had never -heard of me in his life. Miserable man! He does not know what he -has missed!" - -Here his flashing black eyes lit suddenly on Dr. Dean, who was -"studying" him in the same sort of pertinacious way in which that -learned little man studied everything. - -"A friend of yours, Denzil?" he inquired. - -"Yes," responded Murray readily; "a very great friend--Dr. Maxwell -Dean. Dr. Dean, let me introduce to you Armand Gervase; I need not -explain him further!" - -"You need not, indeed!" said the doctor, with a ceremonious bow. -"The name is one of universal celebrity." - -"It is not always an advantage--this universal celebrity," replied -Gervase. "Nor is it true that any celebrity is actually universal. -Perhaps the only living person that is universally known, by name -at least, is Zola. Mankind are at one in their appreciation of -vice." - -"I cannot altogether agree with you there," said Dr. Dean slowly, -keeping his gaze fixed on the artist's bold, proud features with -singular curiosity. "The French Academy, I presume, are -individually as appreciative of human weaknesses as most men; but -taken collectively, some spirit higher and stronger than their own -keeps them unanimous in their rejection of the notorious Realist -who sacrifices all the canons of art and beauty to the discussion -of topics unmentionable in decent society." - -Gervase laughed idly. - -"Oh, he will get in some day, you may be sure," he answered. -"There is no spirit higher and stronger than the spirit of -naturalism in man; and in time, when a few prejudices have died -away and mawkish sentiment has been worn threadbare, Zola will be -enrolled as the first of the French Academicians, with even more -honors than if he had succeeded in the beginning. That is the way -of all those 'select' bodies. As Napoleon said, 'Le monde vient a -celui qui sait attendre.'" - -The little Doctor's countenance now showed the most lively and -eager interest. - -"You quite believe that, Monsieur Gervase? You are entirely sure -of what you said just now?" - -"What did I say? I forget!" smiled Gervase, lighting a cigarette -and beginning to smoke it leisurely. - -"You said, 'There is no spirit higher or stronger than the spirit -of naturalism in man.' Are you positive on this point?" - -"Why, of course! Most entirely positive!" And the great painter -looked amused as he gave the reply. "Naturalism is Nature, or the -things appertaining to Nature, and there is nothing higher or -stronger than Nature everywhere and anywhere." - -"How about God?" inquired Dr. Dean with a curious air, as if he -were propounding a remarkable conundrum. - -"God!" Gervase laughed loudly. "Pardon! Are you a clergyman?" - -"By no means!" and the Doctor gave a little bow and deprecating -smile. "I am not in any way connected with the Church. I am a -doctor of laws and literature,--a humble student of philosophy and -science generally..." - -"Philosophy! Science!" interrupted Gervase. "And you ask about -God! Parbleu! Science and philosophy have progressed beyond Him!" - -"Exactly!" and Dr. Dean rubbed his hands together pleasantly. -"That is your opinion? Yes, I thought so! Science and philosophy, -to put it comprehensively, have beaten poor God on His own ground! -Ha! ha! ha! Very good--very good! And humorous as well! Ha! ha!" - -And a very droll appearance just then had this "humble student of -philosophy and science generally," for he bent himself to and fro -with laughter, and his small eyes almost disappeared behind his -shelving brows in the excess of his mirth. And two crosslines -formed themselves near his thin mouth--such lines as are carven on -the ancient Greek masks which indicate satire. - -Denzil Murray flushed uncomfortably. - -"Gervase doesn't believe in anything but Art," he said, as though -half apologizing for his friend: "Art is the sole object of his -existence; I don't believe he ever has time to think about -anything else." - -"Of what else should I think, mon ami?" exclaimed Gervase -mirthfully. "Of life? It is all Art to me; and by Art I mean the -idealization and transfiguration of Nature." - -"Oh. if you do that sort of thing you are a romancist," interposed -Dr. Dean emphatically. "Nature neither idealizes nor transfigures -itself; it is simply Nature and no more. Matter uncontrolled by -Spirit is anything but ideal." - -"Precisely," answered Gervase quickly and with some warmth; "but -my spirit idealizes it,--my imagination sees beyond it,--my soul -grasps it." - -"Oh, you have a soul?" exclaimed Dr. Dean, beginning to laugh -again. "Now, how did you find that out?" - -Gervase looked at him in a sudden surprise. - -"Every man has an inward self, naturally," he said. "We call it -'soul' as a figure of speech; it is really temperament merely." - -"Oh, it is merely temperament? Then you don't think it is likely -to outlive you, this soul--to take new phases upon itself and go -on existing, an immortal being, when your body is in a far worse -condition (because less carefully preserved) than an Egyptian -mummy?" - -"Certainly not!" and Gervase flung away the end of his finished -cigarette. "The immortality of the soul is quite an exploded -theory. It was always a ridiculous one. We have quite enough to -vex us in our present life, and why men ever set about inventing -another is more than I am able to understand. It was a most -foolish and barbaric superstition." - -The gay sound of music now floated towards them from the ball- -room,--the strains of a graceful, joyous, half-commanding, half- -pleading waltz came rhythmically beating on the air like the -measured movement of wings,--and Denzil Murray, beginning to grow -restless, walked to and fro, his eyes watching every figure that -crossed and re-crossed the hall. But Dr. Dean's interest in Armand -Gervase remained intense and unabated; and approaching him, he -laid two lean fingers delicately on the white folds of the Bedouin -dress just where the heart of the man was hidden. - -"'A foolish and barbaric superstition!'" he echoed slowly and -meditatively. "You do not believe in any possibility of there -being a life--or several lives--after this present death through -which we must all pass inevitably, sooner or later?" - -"Not in the least! I leave such ideas to the ignorant and -uneducated. I should be unworthy of the progressive teachings of -my time if I believed such arrant nonsense." - -"Death, you consider, finishes all? There is nothing further--no -mysteries beyond? ..." and Dr. Dean's eyes glittered as he -stretched forth one thin, slight hand and pointed into space with -the word "beyond," an action which gave it a curious emphasis, and -for a fleeting second left a weird impression on even the careless -mind of Gervase. But he laughed it off lightly. - -"Nothing beyond? Of course not! My dear sir, why ask such a -question? Nothing can be plainer or more positive than the fact -that death, as you say, finishes all." - -A woman's laugh, low and exquisitely musical, rippled on the air -as he spoke--delicious laughter, rarer than song; for women as a -rule laugh too loudly, and the sound of their merriment partakes -more of the nature of a goose's cackle than any other sort of -natural melody. But this large, soft and silvery, was like a -delicately subdued cadence played on a magic flute in the -distance, and suggested nothing but sweetness; and at the sound of -it Gervase started violently and turned sharply round upon his -friend Murray with a look of wonderment and perplexity. - -"Who is that?" he demanded. "I have heard that pretty laugh -before; it must be some one I know." - -But Denzil scarcely heard him. Pale, and with eyes full of -yearning and passion, he was watching the slow approach of a group -of people in fancy dress, who were all eagerly pressing round one -central figure--the figure of a woman clad in gleaming golden -tissues and veiled in the old Egyptian fashion up to the eyes, -with jewels flashing about her waist, bosom and hair,--a woman who -moved glidingly as if she floated rather than walked, and whose -beauty, half hidden as it was by the exigencies of the costume she -had chosen, was so unusual and brilliant that it seemed to create -an atmosphere of bewilderment and rapture around her as she came. -She was preceded by a small Nubian boy in a costume of vivid -scarlet, who, walking backwards humbly, fanned her slowly with a -tall fan of peacock's plumes made after the quaint designs of -ancient Egypt. The lustre radiating from the peacock's feathers, -the light of her golden garments, her jewels and the marvellous -black splendor of her eyes, all flashed for a moment like sudden -lightning on Gervase; something--he knew not what--turned him -giddy and blind; hardly knowing what he did, he sprang eagerly -forward, when all at once he felt the lean, small hand of Dr. Dean -on his arm and stopped short embarrassed. - -"Pardon me!" said the little savant, with a delicate, half- -supercilious lifting of his eyebrows. "But--do you know the -Princess Ziska?" - - - - -CHAPTER II. - - -Gervase stared at him, still dazzled and confused. - -"Whom did you say? ... the Princess Ziska? ... No, I don't know -her ... Yet, stay! Yes, I think I have seen her ... somewhere,--in -Paris, possibly. Will you introduce me?" - -"I leave that duty to Mr. Denzil Murray," said the Doctor, folding -his arms neatly behind his back ... "He knows her better than I -do." - -And smiling his little grim, cynical smile, he settled his -academic cap more firmly on his head and strolled off towards the -ballroom. Gervase stood irresolute, his eyes fixed on that -wondrous golden figure that floated before his eyes like an aerial -vision. Denzil Murray had gone forward to meet the Princess and -was now talking to her, his handsome face radiating with the -admiration he made no attempt to conceal. After a little pause -Gervase moved towards him a step or two, and caught part of the -conversation. - -"You look the very beau-ideal of an Egyptian Princess," Murray was -saying. "Your costume is perfect." - -She laughed. Again that sweet, rare laughter! Gervase thrilled -with the pulsation of it,--it beat in his ears and smote his brain -with a strange echo of familiarity. - -"Is it not?" she responded. "I am 'historically correct,' as your -friend Dr. Dean would say. My ornaments are genuine,--they all -came out of the same tomb." - -"I find one fault with your attire, Princess," said one of the -male admirers who had entered with her; "part of your face is -veiled. That is a cruelty to us all!" - -She waived the compliment aside with a light gesture. - -"It was the fashion in ancient Egypt," she said. "Love in those -old days was not what it is now,--one glance, one smile was -sufficient to set the soul on fire and draw another soul towards -it to consume together in the suddenly kindled flame! And women -veiled their faces in youth, lest they should be deemed too -prodigal of their charms; and in age they covered themselves still -more closely, in order not to affront the Sun-God's fairness by -their wrinkles." She smiled, a dazzling smile that drew Gervase -yet a few steps closer unconsciously, as though he were being -magnetized. "But I am not bound to keep the veil always up," and -as she spoke she loosened it and let it fall, showing an exquisite -face, fair as a lily, and of such perfect loveliness that the men -who were gathered round her seemed to lose breath and speech at -sight of it. "That pleases you better, Mr. Murray?" - -Denzil grew very pale. Bending down he murmured something to her -in a low tone. She raised her lovely brows with a little touch of -surprise that was half disdain, and looked at him straightly. - -"You say very pretty things; but they do not always please me," -she observed. "However, that is my fault, no doubt." - -And she began to move onwards, her Nubian page preceding her as -before. Gervase stood in her path and confronted her as she came. - -"Introduce me," he said in a commanding tone to Denzil. - -Denzil looked at him, somewhat startled by the suppressed passion -in his voice. - -"Certainly. Princess, permit me!" She paused, a figure of silent -grace and attention. "Allow me to present to you my friend, Armand -Gervase, the most famous artist in France--Gervase, the Princess -Ziska." - -She raised her deep, dark eyes and fixed them on his face, and as -he looked boldly at her in a kind of audacious admiration, he felt -again that strange dizzying shock which had before thrilled him -through and through. There was something strangely familiar about -her; the faint odors that seemed exhaled from her garments,--the -gleam of the jewel-winged scarabei on her breast,--the weird light -of the emerald-studded serpent in her hair; and more, much more -familiar than these trifles, was the sound of her voice--dulcet, -penetrating, grave and haunting in its tone. - -"At last we meet, Monsieur Armand Gervase!" she said slowly and -with a graceful inclination of her head. "But I cannot look upon -you as a stranger, for I have known you so long--in spirit!" - -She smiled--a strange smile, dazzling yet enigmatical--and -something wild and voluptuous seemed to stir in Gervase's pulses -as he touched the small hand, loaded with quaint Egyptian gems, -which she graciously extended towards him. - -"I think I have known you, too!" he said. "Possibly in a dream,--a -dream of beauty never realized till now!" - -His voice sank to an amorous whisper; but she said nothing in -reply, nor could her looks be construed into any expression of -either pleasure or offence. Yet through the heart of young Denzil -Murray went a sudden pang of jealousy, and for the first time in -his life he became conscious that even among men as well as women -there may exist what is called the "petty envy" of a possible -rival, and the uneasy desire to outshine such an one in all points -of appearance, dress and manner. His gaze rested broodingly on the -tall, muscular form of Gervase, and he noted the symmetry and -supple grace of the man with an irritation of which he was -ashamed. He knew, despite his own undeniably handsome personality, -which was set off to such advantage that night by the richness of -the Florentine costume he had adopted, that there was a certain -fascination about Gervase which was inborn, a trick of manner -which made him seem picturesque at all times; and that even when -the great French artist had stayed with him in Scotland and got -himself up for the occasion in more or less baggy tweeds, people -were fond of remarking that the only man who ever succeeded in -making tweeds look artistic was Armand Gervase. And in the white -Bedouin garb he now wore he was seen at his best; a certain -restless passion betrayed in eyes and lips made him look the -savage part he had "dressed" for, and as he bent his head over the -Princess Ziska's hand and kissed it with an odd mingling of -flippancy and reverence, Denzil suddenly began to think how -curiously alike they were, these two! Strong man and fair woman, -both had many physical points in common,--the same dark, level -brows,--the same half wild, half tender eyes,--the same sinuous -grace of form,--the same peculiar lightness of movement,--and yet -both were different, while resembling each other. It was not what -is called a "family likeness" which existed between them; it was -the cast of countenance or "type" that exists between races or -tribes, and had young Murray not known his friend Gervase to be a -French Provencal and equally understood the Princess Ziska to be -of Russian origin, he would have declared them both, natives of -Egypt, of the purest caste and highest breeding. He was so struck -by this idea that he might have spoken his thought aloud had he -not heard Gervase boldly arranging dance after dance with the -Princess, and apparently preparing to write no name but hers down -the entire length of his ball programme,--a piece of audacity -which had the effect of rousing Denzil to assert his own rights. - -"You promised me the first waltz, Princess," he said, his face -flushing as he spoke. - -"Quite true! And you shall have it," she replied, smiling. -"Monsieur Gervase will have the second. The music sounds very -inviting; shall we not go in?" - -"We spoil the effect of your entree crowding about you like this," -said Denzil, glancing somewhat sullenly at Gervase and the other -men surrounding her; "and, by the way, you have never told us what -character you represent to-night; some great queen of old time, no -doubt?" - -"No, I lay no claim to sovereignty," she answered; "I am for to- -night the living picture of a once famous and very improper person -who bore half my name, a dancer of old time, known as 'Ziska- -Charmazel,' the favorite of the harem of a great Egyptian warrior, -described in forgotten histories as 'The Mighty Araxes.'" - -She paused; her admirers, fascinated by the sound of her voice, -were all silent. She fixed her eyes upon Gervase; and addressing -him only, continued: - -"Yes, I am 'Charmazel,'" she said. "She was, as I tell you, an -'improper' person, or would be so considered by the good English -people. Because, you know, she was never married to Araxes!" - -This explanation, given with the demurest naivete, caused a laugh -among her listeners. - -"That wouldn't make her 'improper' in France," said Gervase gayly. -"She would only seem more interesting." - -"Ah! Then modern France is like old Egypt?" she queried, still -smiling. "And Frenchmen can be found perhaps who are like Araxes -in the number of their loves and infidelities?" - -"I should say my country is populated entirely with copies of -him," replied Gervase, mirthfully. "Was he a very distinguished -personage?" - -"He was. Old legends say he was the greatest warrior of his time; -as you, Monsieur Gervase, are the greatest artist." - -Gervase bowed. - -"You flatter me, fair Charmazel!" he said; then suddenly as the -strange name passed his lips he recoiled as if he had been stung, -and seemed for a moment dazed. The Princess turned her dark eyes -on him inquiringly. - -"Something troubles you, Monsieur Gervase?" she asked. - -His brows knitted in a perplexed frown. - -"Nothing ... the heat ... the air ... a trifle, I assure you? Will -you not join the dancers? Denzil, the music calls you. When your -waltz with the Princess is ended I shall claim my turn. For the -moment ... au revoir!" - -He stood aside and let the little group pass him by: the Princess -Ziska moving with her floating, noiseless grace, Denzil Murray -beside her, the little Nubian boy waving the peacock-plumes in -front of them both, and all the other enslaved admirers of this -singularly attractive woman crowding together behind. He watched -the little cortege with strained, dim sight, till just at the -dividing portal between the lounge and the ballroom the Princess -turned and looked back at him with a smile. Over all the -intervening heads their eyes met in one flash of mutual -comprehension! then, as the fair face vanished like a light -absorbed into the lights beyond it, Gervase, left alone, dropped -heavily into a chair and stared vaguely at the elaborate pattern -of the thick carpet at his feet. Passing his hand across his -forehead he withdrew it, wet with drops of perspiration. - -"What is wrong with me?" he muttered. "Am I sickening for a fever -before I have been forty-eight hours in Cairo? What fool's notion -is this in my brain? Where have I seen her before? In Paris? St. -Petersburg? London? Charmazel! ... Charmazel! ... What has the -name to do with me? Ziska-Charmazel! It is like the name of a -romance or a gypsy tune. Bah! I must be dreaming! Her face, her -eyes, are perfectly familiar; where, where have I seen her and -played the mad fool with her before? Was she a model at one of the -studios? Have I seen her by chance thus in her days of poverty, -and does her image recall itself vividly now despite her changed -surroundings? I know the very perfume of her hair ... it seems to -creep into my blood ... it intoxicates me ... it chokes me! ..." - -He sprang up with a fierce gesture, then after a minute's pause -sat down again, and again stared at the floor. - -The gay music from the ball-room danced towards him on the air in -sweet, broken echoes,--he heard nothing and saw nothing. - -"My God!" he said at last, under his breath. "Can it be possible -that I love this woman?" - - - - -CHAPTER III. - - -Within the ball-room the tide of gayety was rising to its height. -It may be a very trivial matter, yet it is certain that fancy -dress gives a peculiar charm, freedom, and brightness to -festivities of the kind; and men who in the ordinary mournful -black evening-suit would be taciturn of speech and conventional in -bearing, throw off their customary reserve when they find -themselves in the brilliant and becoming attire of some -picturesque period when dress was an art as well as a fashion; and -not only do they look their best, but they somehow manage to put -on "manner" with costume, and to become courteous, witty, and -graceful to a degree that sometimes causes their own relatives to -wonder at them and speculate as to why they have grown so suddenly -interesting. Few have read Sartor Resartus with either -comprehension or profit, and are therefore unaware, as -Teufelsdrockh was, that "Society is founded upon Cloth"--i.e. that -man does adapt his manners very much to suit his clothes; and that -as the costume of the days of Louis Quinze or Louis Seize inspired -graceful deportment and studied courtesy to women, so does the -costume of our nineteenth century inspire brusque demeanor and -curt forms of speech, which, however sincere, are not flattering -to the fair sex. - -More love-making goes on at a fancy-dress ball than at an ordinary -one; and numerous were the couples that strolled through the -corridors and along the terraces of the Gezireh Palace Hotel when, -after the first dozen dances were ended, it was discovered that -one of the most glorious of full moons had risen over the turrets -and minarets of Cairo, illumining every visible object with as -clear a lustre as that of day. Then it was that warriors and -nobles of mediaeval days were seen strolling with mythological -goddesses and out-of-date peasants of Italy and Spain; then -audacious "toreadors" were perceived whispering in the ears of -crowned queens, and clowns were caught lingering amorously by the -side of impossible flower-girls of all nations. Then it was that -Sir Chetwynd Lyle, with his paunch discreetly restrained within -the limits of a Windsor uniform which had been made for him some -two or three years since, paced up and down complacently in the -moonlight, watching his two "girls," Muriel and Dolly, doing -business with certain "eligibles"; then it was that Lady -Fulkeward, fearfully and wonderfully got up as the "Duchess of -Gainsborough" sidled to and fro, flirted with this man, flouted -that, giggled, shrugged her shoulders, waved her fan, and -comported herself altogether as if she were a hoyden of seventeen -just let loose from school for the holidays. And then the worthy -Dr. Maxwell Dean, somewhat exhausted by vigorous capering in the -"Lancers," strolled forth to inhale the air, fanning himself with -his cap as he walked, and listening keenly to every chance word or -sentence he could hear, whether it concerned himself or not. He -had peculiar theories, and one of them was, as he would tell you, -that if you overheard a remark apparently not intended for you, -you were to make yourself quite easy, as it was "a point of -predestination" that you should at that particular moment, -consciously or unconsciously, play the eavesdropper. The reason of -it would, he always averred, be explained to you later on in your -career. The well-known saying "listeners never hear any good of -themselves" was, he declared, a most ridiculous aphorism. "You -overhear persons talking and you listen. Very well. It may chance -that you hear yourself abused. What then? Nothing can be so good -for you as such abuse; the instruction given is twofold; it warns -you against foes whom you have perhaps considered friends, and it -tones down any overweening conceit you may have had concerning -your own importance or ability. Listen to everything if you are -wise--I always do. I am an old and practised listener. And I have -never listened in vain. All the information I have gained through -listening, though apparently at first disconnected and -unclassified, has fitted into my work like the stray pieces of a -puzzle, and has proved eminently useful. Wherever I am I always -keep my ears well open." - -With such views as he thus entertained, life was always enormously -interesting to Dr. Dean--he found nothing tiresome, not even the -conversation of the type known as Noodle. The Noodle was as -curious a specimen of nature to him as the emu or the crocodile. -And as he turned up his intellectual little physiognomy to the -deep, warm Egyptian sky and inhaled the air sniffingly, as though -it were a monster scent-bottle just uncorked for his special -gratification, he smiled as he observed Muriel Chetwynd Lyle -standing entirely alone at the end of the terrace, attired as a -"Boulogne fish-wife," and looking daggers after the hastily- -retreating figure of a "White Hussar,"--no other than Ross -Courtney. - -"How extremely droll a 'Boulogne fish-wife' looks in Egypt," -commented the Doctor to his inward self. "Remarkable! The -incongruity is peculiarly typical of the Chetwynd Lyles. The -costume of the young woman is like the knighthood of her father,-- -droll, droll, very droll!" Aloud he said--"Why are you not -dancing, Miss Muriel?" - -"Oh, I don't know--I'm tired," she said, petulantly. "Besides, all -the men are after that Ziska woman,--they seem to have lost their -heads about her!" - -"Ah!" and Dr. Dean rubbed his hands. "Yes--possibly! Well, she is -certainly very beautiful." - -"I cannot see it!" and Muriel Chetwynd Lyle flushed with the -inward rage which could not be spoken. "It's the way she dresses -more than her looks. Nobody knows who she is--but they do not seem -to care about that. They are all raving like lunatics over her, -and that man--that artist who arrived here to-day, Armand -Gervase,--seems the maddest of the lot. Haven't you noticed how -often he has danced with her?" - -"I couldn't help noticing that," said the Doctor, emphatically, -"for I have never seen anything more exquisite than the way they -waltz together. Physically, they seem made for one another." - -Muriel laughed disdainfully. - -"You had better tell Mr. Denzil Murray that; he is in a bad enough -humor now, and that remark of yours wouldn't improve it, I can -tell you!" - -She broke off abruptly, as a slim, fair girl, dressed as a Greek -vestal in white, with a chaplet of silver myrtle-leaves round her -hair, suddenly approached and touched Dr. Dean on the arm. - -"Can I speak to you a moment?" she asked. - -"My dear Miss Murray! Of course!" and the Doctor turned to her at -once. "What is it?" - -She paced with him a few steps in silence, while Muriel Chetwynd -Lyle moved languidly away from the terrace and re-entered the -ball-room. - -"What is it?" repeated Dr. Dean. "You seem distressed; come, tell -me all about it!" - -Helen Murray lifted her eyes--the soft, violet-gray eyes that Lord -Fulkeward had said he admired--suffused with tears, and fixed them -on the old man's face. - -"I wish," she said--"I wish we had never come to Egypt! I feel as -if some great misfortune were going to happen to us; I do, indeed! -Oh, Dr. Dean, have you watched my brother this evening?" - -"I have," he replied, and then was silent. - -"And what do you think?" she asked anxiously. "How can you account -for his strangeness--his roughness--even to me?" - -And the tears brimmed over and fell, despite her efforts to -restrain them. Dr. Dean stopped in his walk and took her two hands -in his own. - -"My dear Helen, it's no use worrying yourself like this," he said. -"Nothing can stop the progress of the Inevitable. I have watched -Denzil, I have watched the new arrival, Armand Gervase, I have -watched the mysterious Ziska, and I have watched you! Well, what -is the result? The Inevitable,--simply the unconquerable -Inevitable. Denzil is in love, Gervase is in love, everybody is in -love, except me and one other! It is a whole network of mischief, -and I am the unhappy fly that has unconsciously fallen into the -very middle of it. But the spider, my dear,--the spider who wove -the web in the first instance,--is the Princess Ziska, and she is -NOT in love! She is the other one. She is not in love with anybody -any more than I am. She's got something else on her mind--I don't -know what it is exactly, but it isn't love. Excluding her and -myself, the whole hotel is in love--YOU are in love!" - -Helen withdrew her hands from his grasp and a deep flush reddened -her fair face. - -"I!" she stammered--"Dr. Dean, you are mistaken. ..." - -"Dr. Dean was never mistaken on love-matters in his life," said -that self-satisfied sage complacently. "Now, my dear, don't be -offended. I have known both you and your brother ever since you -were left little orphan children together; if I cannot speak -plainly to you, who can? You are in love, little Helen--and very -unwisely, too--with the man Gervase. I have heard of him often, -but I never saw him before to-night. And I don't approve of him." - -Helen grew as pale as she had been rosy, and her face as the -moonlight fell upon it was very sorrowful. - -"He stayed with us in Scotland two summers ago," she said softly. -"He was very agreeable..." - -"Ha! No doubt! He made a sort of love to you then, I suppose. I -can imagine him doing it very well! There is a nice romantic glen -near your house--just where the river runs, and where I caught a -fifteen-pound salmon some five years ago. Ha! Catching salmon is -healthy work; much better than falling in love. No, no, Helen! -Gervase is not good enough for you; you want a far better man. Has -he spoken to you to-night?" - -"Oh, yes! And he has danced with me." - -"Ha! How often?" - -"Once." - -"And how many times with the Princess Ziska?" - -Helen's fair head drooped, and she answered nothing. All at once -the little Doctor's hand closed on her arm with a soft yet firm -grip. - -"Look!" he whispered. - -She raised her eyes and saw two figures step out on the terrace -and stand in the full moonlight,--the white Bedouin dress of the -one and the glittering golden robe of the other made them easily -recognizable,--they were Gervase and the Princess Ziska. Helen -gave a faint, quick sigh. - -"Let us go in," she said. - -"Nonsense! Why should we go in? On the contrary, let us join -them." - -"Oh, no!" and Helen shrank visibly at the very idea. "I cannot; do -not ask me! I have tried--you know I have tried--to like the -Princess; but something in her--I don't know what it is--repels -me. To speak truthfully, I think I am afraid of her." - -"Afraid! Pooh! Why should you be afraid? It is true one doesn't -often see a woman with the eyes of a vampire-bat; but there is -nothing to be frightened about. I have dissected the eyes of a -vampire-bat--very interesting work, very. The Princess has them-- -only, of course, hers are larger and finer; but there is exactly -the same expression in them. I am fond of study, you know; I am -studying her. What! Are you determined to run away?" - -"I am engaged for this dance to Mr. Courtney," said Helen, -nervously. - -"Well, well! We'll resume our conversation another time," and Dr. -Dean took her hand and patted it pleasantly. "Don't fret yourself -about Denzil; he'll be all right. And take my advice: don't marry -a Bedouin chief; marry an honest, straightforward, tender-hearted -Englishman who'll take care of you, not a nondescript savage -who'll desert you!" - -And with a humorous and kindly smile, Dr. Dean moved off to join -the two motionless and picturesque figures that stood side by side -looking at the moon, while Helen, like a frightened bird suddenly -released, fled precipitately back to the ball-room, where Ross -Courtney was already searching for her as his partner in the next -waltz. - -"Upon my word," mused the Doctor, "this is a very pretty kettle of -fish! The Gezireh Palace Hotel is not a hotel at all, it seems to -me; it is a lunatic asylum. What with Lady Fulkeward getting -herself up as twenty at the age of sixty; and Muriel and Dolly -Chetwynd Lyle man-hunting with more ferocity than sportsmen hunt -tigers; Helen in love, Denzil in love, Gervase in love--dear me! -dear me! What a list of subjects for a student's consideration! -And the Princess Ziska ..." - -He broke off his meditations abruptly, vaguely impressed by the -strange solemnity of the night. An equal solemnity seemed to -surround the two figures to which he now drew nigh, and as the -Princess Ziska turned her eyes upon him as he came, he was, to his -own vexation, aware that something indefinable disturbed his usual -equanimity and gave him an unpleasant thrill. - -"You are enjoying a moonlight stroll, Doctor?" she inquired. - -Her veil was now cast aside in a careless fold of soft drapery -over her shoulders, and her face in its ethereal delicacy of -feature and brilliant coloring looked almost too beautiful to be -human. Dr. Dean did not reply for a moment; he was thinking what a -singular resemblance there was between Armand Gervase and one of -the figures on a certain Egyptian fresco in the British Museum. - -"Enjoying--er--er--a what?--a moonlight stroll? Exactly--er--yes! -Pardon me, Princess, my mind often wanders, and I am afraid I am -getting a little deaf as well. Yes, I find the night singularly -conducive to meditation; one cannot be in a land like this under a -sky like this"--and he pointed to the shining heaven--"without -recalling the great histories of the past." - -"I daresay they were very much like the histories of the present," -said Gervase smiling. - -"I should doubt that. History is what man makes it; and the -character of man in the early days of civilization was, I think, -more forceful, more earnest, more strong of purpose, more bent on -great achievements." - -"The principal achievement and glory being to kill as many of -one's fellow-creatures as possible!" laughed Gervase--"Like the -famous warrior, Araxes, of whom the Princess has just been telling -me!" - -"Araxes was great, but now Araxes is a forgotten hero," said the -Princess slowly, each accent of her dulcet voice chiming on the -ear like the stroke of a small silver bell. "None of the modern -discoverers know anything about him yet. They have not even found -his tomb; but he was buried in the Pyramids with all the honors of -a king. No doubt your clever men will excavate him some day." - -"I think the Pyramids have been very thoroughly explored," said -Dr. Dean. "Nothing of any importance remains in them now." - -The Princess arched her lovely eyebrows. - -"No? Ah! I daresay you know them better than I do!" and she -laughed, a laugh which was not mirthful so much as scornful. - -"I am very much interested in Araxes," said Gervase then, "partly, -I suppose, because he is as yet in the happy condition of being an -interred mummy. Nobody has dug him up, unwound his cerements, or -photographed him, and his ornaments have not been stolen. And in -the second place I am interested in him because it appears he was -in love with the famous dancer of his day whom the Princess -represents to-night,--Charmazel. I wish I had heard the story -before I came to Cairo; I would have got myself up as Araxes in -person to-night." - -"In order to play the lover of Charmazel?" queried the Doctor. - -"Exactly!" replied Gervase with flashing eyes; "I daresay I could -have acted the part." - -"I should imagine you could act any part," replied the Doctor, -blandly. "The role of love-making comes easily to most men." - -The Princess looked at him as he spoke and smiled. The jewelled -scarab, set as a brooch on her bosom, flashed luridly in the moon, -and in her black eyes there was a similar lurid gleam. - -"Come and talk to me," she said, laying her hand on his arm; "I am -tired, and the conversation of one's ball-room partners is very -banal. Monsieur Gervase would like me to dance all night, I -imagine; but I am too lazy. I leave such energy to Lady Fulkeward -and to all the English misses and madams. I love indolence." - -"Most Russian women do, I think," observed the Doctor. - -She laughed. - -"But I am not Russian!" - -"I know. I never thought you were," he returned composedly; "but -everyone in the hotel has come to the conclusion that you are!" - -"They are all wrong! What can I do to put them right?" she -inquired with a fascinating little upward movement of her -eyebrows. - -"Nothing! Leave them in their ignorance. I shall not enlighten -them, though I know your nationality." - -"You do?" and a curious shadow darkened her features. "But perhaps -you are wrong also!" - -"I think not," said the Doctor, with gentle obstinacy. "You are an -Egyptian. Born in Egypt; born OF Egypt. Pure Eastern! There is -nothing Western about you. Is not it so?" - -She looked at him enigmatically. - -"You have made a near guess," she replied; "but you are not -absolutely correct. Originally, I am of Egypt." - -Dr. Dean nodded pleasantly. - -"Originally,--yes. That is precisely what I mean--originally! Let -me take you in to supper." - -He offered his arm, but Gervase made a hasty step forward. - -"Princess," he began-- - -She waved him off lightly. - -"My dear Monsieur Gervase, we are not in the desert, where Bedouin -chiefs do just as they like. We are in a modern hotel in Cairo, -and all the good English mammas will be dreadfully shocked if I am -seen too much with you. I have danced with you five times, -remember! And I will dance with you once more before I leave. When -our waltz begins, come and find me in the upper-room." - -She moved away on Dr. Dean's arm, and Gervase moodily drew back -and let her pass. When she had gone, he lit a cigarette and walked -impatiently up and down the terrace, a heavy frown wrinkling his -brows. The shadow of a man suddenly darkened the moonlight in -front of him, and Denzil Murray's hand fell on his shoulder. - -"Gervase," he said, huskily, "I must speak to you." - -Gervase glanced him up and down, taking note of his pale face and -wild eyes with a certain good-humored regret and compassion. - -"Say on, my friend." - -Denzil looked straight at him, biting his lips hard and clenching -his hands in the effort to keep down some evidently violent -emotion. - -"The Princess Ziska," he began,-- - -Gervase smiled, and flicked the ash off his cigarette. - -"The Princess Ziska," he echoed,--"Yes? What of her? She seems to -be the only person talked about in Cairo. Everybody in this hotel, -at any rate, begins conversation with precisely the same words as -you do,--'the Princess Ziska!' Upon my life, it is very amusing!" - -"It is not amusing to me," said Denzil, bitterly. "To me it is a -matter of life and death." He paused, and Gervase looked at him -curiously. "We've always been such good friends, Gervase," he -continued, "that I should be sorry if anything came between us -now, so I think it is better to make a clean breast of it and -speak out plainly." Again he hesitated, his face growing still -paler, then with a sudden ardent light glowing in his eyes he -said--"Gervase, I love the Princess Ziska!" - -Gervase threw away his cigarette and laughed aloud with a wild -hilarity. - -"My good boy, I am very sorry for you! Sorry, too, for myself! I -deplore the position in which we are placed with all my heart and -soul. It is unfortunate, but it seems inevitable. You love the -Princess Ziska,--and by all the gods of Egypt and Christendom, so -do I!" - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - - -Denzil recoiled a step backward, then with an impulsive movement -strode close up to him, his face unnaturally flushed and his eyes -glittering with an evil fire. - -"You--you love her! What!--in one short hour, you--who have often -boasted to me of having no heart, no eyes for women except as -models for your canvas,--you say now that you love a woman whom -you have never seen before to-night!" - -"Stop!" returned Gervase somewhat moodily, "I am not so sure about -that. I HAVE seen her before, though where I cannot tell. But the -fire that stirs my pulses now seems to spring from some old -passion suddenly revived, and the eyes of the woman we are both -mad for--well! they do not inspire holiness, my dear friend! No,-- -neither in you nor in me! Let us be honest with each other. There -is something vile in the composition of Madame la Princesse, and -it responds to something equally vile in ourselves. We shall be -dragged down by the force of it,--tant pis pour nous! I am sorrier -for you than for myself, for you are a good fellow, au fond; you -have what the world is learning to despise--sentiment. I have -none; for as I told you before, I have no heart, but I have -passions--tigerish ones--which must be humored; in fact, I make it -my business in life to humor them." - -"Do you intend to humor them in this instance?" - -"Assuredly! If I can." - -"Then,--friend as you have been, you can be friend no more," said -Denzil fiercely. "My God! Do you not understand? My blood is as -warm as yours,--I will not yield to you one smile, one look from -Ziska! No!--I will kill you first!" - -Gervase looked at him calmly. - -"Will you? Pauvre garcon! You are such a boy still, Denzil,--by- -the-bye, how old are you? Ah, I remember now,--twenty-two. Only -twenty-two, and I am thirty-eight! So in the measure of time -alone, your life is more valuable to you than mine is to me. If -you choose, therefore, you can kill me,--now, if you like! I have -a very convenient dagger in my belt--I think it has a point--which -you are welcome to use for the purpose; but, for heaven's sake, -don't rant about it--do it! You can kill me--of course you can; -but you cannot--mark this well, Denzil!--you cannot prevent my -loving the same woman whom you love. I think instead of raving -about the matter here in the moonlight, which has the effect of -making us look like two orthodox villains in a set stage-scene, -we'd better make the best of it, and resolve to abide by the -lady's choice in the matter. What say you? You have known her for -many days,--I have known her for two hours. You have had the first -innings, so you cannot complain." - -Here he playfully unfastened the Bedouin knife which hung at his -belt and offered it to Denzil, holding it delicately by the -glittering blade. - -"One thrust, my brave boy!" he said. "And you will stop the Ziska -fever in my veins at once and forever. But, unless you deal the -murderer's blow, the fever will go on increasing till it reaches -its extremest height, and then ..." - -"And then?" echoed Denzil. - -"Then? Oh--God only knows what then!" - -Denzil thrust away the offered weapon with a movement of aversion. - -"You can jest," he said. "You are always jesting. But you do not -know--you cannot read the horrible thoughts in my mind. I cannot -resolve their meaning even to myself. There is some truth in your -light words; I feel, I know instinctively, that the woman I love -has an attraction about her which is not good, but evil; yet what -does that matter? Do not men sometimes love vile women?" - -"Always!" replied Gervase briefly. - -"Gervase, I have suffered tortures ever since I saw her face!" -exclaimed the unhappy lad, his self-control suddenly giving way. -"You cannot imagine what my life has been! Her eyes make me mad,-- -the merest touch of her hand seems to drag me away invisibly ..." - -"To perdition!" finished Gervase. "That is the usual end of the -journey we men take with beautiful women." - -"And now," went on Denzil, hardly heeding him, "as if my own -despair were not sufficient, you must needs add to it! What evil -fate, I wonder, sent you to Cairo! Of course, I have no chance -with her now; you are sure to win the day. And can you wonder then -that I feel as if I could kill you?" - -"Oh, I wonder at nothing," said Gervase calmly, "except, perhaps, -at myself. And I echo your words most feelingly,--What evil fate -sent me to Cairo? I cannot tell! But here I purpose to remain. My -dear Murray, don't let us quarrel if we can help it; it is such a -waste of time. I am not angry with you for loving la belle Ziska,- --try, therefore, not to be angry with me. Let the fair one herself -decide as to our merits. My own opinion is that she cares for -neither of us, and, moreover, that she never will care for any one -except her fascinating self. And certainly her charms are quite -enough to engross her whole attention. By the way, let me ask you, -Denzil, in this headstrong passion of yours,--for it is a -headstrong passion, just as mine is,--do you actually intend to -make the Ziska your wife if she will have you?" - -"Of course," replied Murray, with some haughtiness. - -A fleeting expression of amusement flitted over Gervase's -features. - -"It is very honorable of you," he said, "very! My dear boy, you -shall have your full chance. Because I--I would not make the -Princess Madame Gervase for all the world! She is not formed for a -life of domesticity--and pardon me--I cannot picture her as the -contented chatelaine of your grand old Scotch castle in Ross- -shire." - -"Why not?" - -"From an artistic point of view the idea is incongruous," said -Gervase lazily. "Nevertheless, I will not interfere with your -wooing." - -Denzil's face brightened. - -"You will not?" - -"I will not--I promise! But"--and here Gervase paused, looking his -young friend full in the eyes, "remember, if your chance falls to -the ground--if Madame gives you your conge--if she does not -consent to be a Scottish chatelaine and listen every day to the -bagpipes at dinner,--you cannot expect me then to be indifferent -to my own desires. She shall not be Madame Gervase,--oh, no! She -shall not be asked to attend to the pot-au-feu; she shall act the -role for which she has dressed to-night; she shall be another -Charmazel to another Araxes, though the wild days of Egypt are no -more!" - -A sudden shiver ran through him as he spoke, and instinctively he -drew the white folds of his picturesque garb closer about him. - -"There is a chill wind sweeping in from the desert," he said, "an -evil, sandy breath tasting of mummy-dust blown through the -crevices of the tombs of kings. Let us go in." - -Murray looked at him in a kind of dull despair. - -"And what is to be done?" he asked. "I cannot answer for myself-- -and--from what you say, neither can you." - -"My dear friend--or foe--whichever you determine to be, I can -answer for myself in one particular at any rate, namely, that as I -told you, I shall not ask the Princess to marry me. You, on the -contrary, will do so. Bonne chance! I shall do nothing to prevent -Madame from accepting the honorable position you intend to offer -her. And till the fiat has gone forth and the fair one has -decided, we will not fly at each other's throats like wolves -disputing possession of a lamb; we will assume composure, even if -we have it not." He paused, and laid one hand kindly on the -younger man's shoulder, "Is it agreed?" - -Denzil gave a mute sign of resigned acquiescence. - -"Good! I like you, Denzil; you are a charming boy! Hot-tempered -and a trifle melodramatic in your loves and hatreds,--yes!--for -that you might have been a Provencal instead of a Scot. Before I -knew you I had a vague idea that all Scotchmen were, or needs must -be, ridiculous,--I don't know why. I associated them with -bagpipes, short petticoats and whisky. I had no idea of the type -you so well represent,--the dark, fine eyes, the strong physique, -and the impetuous disposition which suggests the South rather than -the North; and to-night you look so unlike the accepted cafe -chantant picture of the ever-dancing Highlander that you might in -very truth be a Florentine in more points than the dress which so -well becomes you. Yes,--I like you--and more than you, I like your -sister. That is why I don't want to quarrel with you; I wouldn't -grieve Mademoiselle Helen for the world." - -Murray gave him a quick, half-angry side-glance. - -"You are a strange fellow, Gervase. Two summers ago you were -almost in love with Helen." - -Gervase sighed. - -"True. Almost. That's just it. 'Almost' is a very uncomfortable -word. I have been almost in love so many times. I have never been -drawn by a woman's eyes and dragged down, down,--in a mad -whirlpool of sweetness and poison intermixed. I have never had my -soul strangled by the coils of a woman's hair--black hair, black -as night,--in the perfumed meshes of which a jewelled serpent -gleams ... I have never felt the insidious horror of a love like -strong drink mounting through the blood to the brain, and there -making inextricable confusion of time, space, eternity, -everything, except the passion itself; never, never have I felt -all this, Denzil, till to-night! To-night! Bah! It is a wild night -of dancing and folly, and the Princess Ziska is to blame for it -all! Don't look so tragic, my good Denzil,--what ails you now?" - -"What ails me? Good Heavens! Can you ask it!" and Murray gave a -gesture of mingled despair and impatience. "If you love her in -this wild, uncontrolled way ..." - -"It is the only way I know of," said Gervase. "Love must be wild -and uncontrolled to save it from banalite. It must be a summer -thunderstorm; the heavy brooding of the clouds of thought, the -lightning of desire, then the crash, the downpour,--and the end, -in which the bland sun smiles upon a bland world of dull but -wholesome routine and tame conventionality, making believe that -there never was such a thing known as the past storm! Be consoled, -Denzil, and trust me,--you shall have time to make your honorable -proposal, and Madame had better accept you,--for your love would -last,--mine could not!" - -He spoke with a strange fierceness and irritability, and his eyes -were darkened by a sudden shadow of melancholy. Denzil, bewildered -at his words and manner, stared at him in a kind of helpless -indignation. - -"Then you admit yourself to be cruel and unprincipled?" he said. - -Gervase smiled, with a little shrug of impatience. - -"Do I? I was not aware of it. Is inconstancy to women cruelty and -want of principle? If so, all men must bear the brunt of the -accusation with me. For men were originally barbarians, and always -looked upon women as toys or slaves; the barbaric taint is not out -of us yet, I assure you,--at any rate, it is not out of me. I am a -pure savage; I consider the love of woman as my right; if I win -it, I enjoy it as long as I please, but no longer,--and not all -the forces of heaven and earth should bind me to any woman I had -once grown weary of." - -"If that is your character," said Murray stiffly, "it were well -the Princess Ziska should know it." - -"True," and Gervase laughed loudly. "Tell her, man ami! Tell her -that Armand Gervase is an unprincipled villain, not worth a glance -from her dazzling eyes! It will be the way to make her adore me! -My good boy, do you not know that there is something very -marvellous in the attraction we call love? It is a pre-ordained -destiny,--and if one soul is so constituted that it must meet and -mix with another, nothing can hinder the operation. So that, -believe me, I am quite indifferent as to what you say of me to -Madame la Princesse or to anyone else. It will not be for either -my looks or my character that she will love me if, indeed, she -ever does love me; it will be for something indistinct, -indefinable but resistless in us both, which no one on earth can -explain. And now I must go, Denzil, and claim the fair one for -this waltz. Try and look less miserable, my dear fellow,--I will -not quarrel with you on the Princess's account, nor on any other -pretext if I can help it,--for I don't want to kill you, and I am -convinced your death and not mine would be the result of a fight -between us!" - -His eyes flashed under his straight, fierce brows with a sudden -touch of imperiousness, and his commanding presence became -magnetic, almost over-powering. Tormented with a dozen cross- -currents of feeling, young Denzil Murray was mute;--only his -breath came and went quickly, and there was a certain silently- -declared antagonism in his very attitude. Gervase saw it and -smiled; then turning away with his peculiarly noiseless step and -grace of bearing, he disappeared. - - - - -CHAPTER V. - - -Ten minutes later the larger number of dancers in the ball-room -came to a sudden pause in their gyrations and stood looking on in -open-mouthed, reluctantly-admiring wonderment at the exquisite -waltz movements of the Princess Ziska as she floated past them in -the arms of Gervase, who, as a "Bedouin chief," was perhaps only -acting his part aright when he held her to him with so passionate -and close a grip and gazed down upon her fair face with such a -burning ardor in his eyes. Nothing in the dancing world was ever -seen like the dancing of these two--nothing so languorously -beautiful as the swaying grace of their well-matched figures -gliding to the music in as perfectly harmonious a measure as a -bird's two wings beat to the pulsations of the air. People noticed -that as the Princess danced a tiny tinkling sound accompanied her -every step; and the more curious observers, peeping downwards as -she flew by, saw that she had kept to the details of ancient -Egyptian costume so exactly that she even wore sandals, and that -her feet, perfectly shaped and lovely as perfectly shaped and -lovely hands, were bare save for the sandal-ribbons which crossed -them, and which were fastened with jewels. Round the slim ankles -were light bands of gold, also glittering with gems, and -furthermore adorned by little golden bells which produced the -pretty tinkling music that attracted attention. - -"What a delightful creature she is!" said Lady Fulkeward, settling -her "Duchess of Gainsborough" hat on her powdered wig more -becomingly and smiling up in the face of Ross Courtney, who -happened to be standing close by. "So sweetly unconventional! -Everybody here thinks her improper; she may be, but I like her. -I'm not a bit of a prude." - -Courtney smiled irreverently at this. Prudery and "old" Lady -Fulkeward were indeed wide apart. Aloud he said: - -"I think whenever a woman is exceptionally beautiful she generally -gets reported as 'improper' by her own sex; especially if she has -a fascinating manner and dresses well." - -"So true," and Lady Fulkeward simpered. "Exactly what I find -wherever I go! Poor dear Ziska! She has to pay the penalty for -captivating all you men in the way she does. I'm sure YOU have -lost your heart to her quite as much as anybody else, haven't -you?" - -Courtney reddened. - -"I don't think so," he answered; "I admire her very much, but I -haven't lost my heart ..." - -"Naughty boy! Don't prevaricate!" and Lady Fulkeward smiled in the -bewitching pearly manner her admirably-made artificial teeth -allowed her to do. "Every man in the hotel is in love with the -Princess, and I'm sure I don't blame them. If I belonged to your -sex I should be in love with her too. As it is, I am in love with -the new arrival, that glorious creature, Gervase. He is superb! He -looks like an untamed savage. I adore handsome barbarians!" - -"He's scarcely a barbarian, I think," said Courtney, with some -amusement; "he is the great French artist, the 'lion' of Paris -just now,--only secondary to Sarah Bernhardt." - -"Artists are always barbarians," declared Lady Fulkeward -enthusiastically. "They paint naughty people without any clothes -on; they never have any idea of time; they never keep their -appointments; and they are always falling in love with the wrong -person and getting into trouble, which is so nice of them! That's -why I worship them all. They are so refreshingly unlike OUR set!" - -Courtney raised his eyebrows inquiringly. - -"You know what I mean by our set," went on the vivacious old -"Gainsborough," "the aristocrats whose conversation is limited to -the weather and scandal, and who are so frightfully dull! Dull! My -dear Ross you know how dull they are!" - -"Well, upon my word, they are," admitted Courtney. "You are right -there. I certainly agree with you." - -"I'm sure you do! They have no ideas. Now, artists have ideas,-- -they live on ideas and sentiment. Sentiment is such a beautiful -thing--so charming! I believe that fierce-looking Gervase is a -creature of sentiment--and how delightful that is! Of course, -he'll paint the Princess Ziska--he MUST paint her,--no one else -could do it so well. By the way, have you been asked to her great -party next week?" - -"Yes." - -"And are you going?" - -"Most assuredly." - -"So am I. That absurd Chetwynd Lyle woman came to me this evening -and asked me if I really thought it would be proper to take her -'girls' there," and Lady Fulkeward laughed shrilly. "Girls indeed! -I should say those two long, ugly women could go anywhere with -safety. 'Do you consider the Princess a proper woman?' she asked, -and I said, 'Certainly, as proper as you are.'" - -Courtney laughed outright, and began to think there was some fun -in Lady Fulkeward. - -"By Jove! Did you tell her that?" - -"I should think I did! Oh, I know a thing or two about the -Chetwynd Lyles, but I keep my mouth shut till it suits me to open -it. I said I was going, and then, of course, she said she would." - -"Naturally." - -And Courtney gave the answer vaguely, for the waltz was ended, and -the Princess Ziska, on the arm of Gervase, was leaving the ball- -room. - -"She's going," exclaimed Lady Fulkeward. "Dear creature! Excuse -me--I must speak to her for a moment." - -And with a swish of her full skirts and a toss of her huge hat and -feathers, the lively flirt of sixty tripped off with all the -agility of sixteen, leaving Courtney to follow her or remain where -he was, just as he chose. He hesitated, and during that undecided -pause was joined by Dr. Maxwell Dean. - -"A very brilliant and interesting evening!" said that individual, -smiling complacently. "I don't remember any time when I have -enjoyed myself so thoroughly." - -"Really! I shouldn't have thought you a man to care for fancy- -dress balls," said Courtney. - -"Shouldn't you? Ha! Well, some fancy-dress balls I might not care -for, but this one has been highly productive of entertainment in -every way, and several incidents connected with it have opened up -to me a new vista of research, the possibilities of which are--er- --very interesting and remarkable." - -"Indeed!" murmured Courtney indifferently, his eyes fixed on the -slim, supple figure of the Princess Ziska as she slowly moved amid -her circle of admirers out of the ball-room, her golden skirts -gleaming sun-like against the polished floor, and the jewels about -her flashing in vivid points of light from the hem of her robe to -the snake in her hair. - -"Yes," continued the Doctor, smiling and rubbing his hands, "I -think I have got the clue to a very interesting problem. But I see -you are absorbed--and no wonder! A charming woman, the Princess -Ziska--charming! Do you believe in ghosts?" - -This question was put with such unexpected abruptness that -Courtney was quite taken aback. - -"Ghosts?" he echoed. "No, I cannot say I do. I have never seen -one, and I have never heard of one that did not turn out a bogus." - -"Oh! I don't mean the usual sort of ghost," said the Doctor, -drawing his shelving brows together in a meditative knot of criss- -cross lines over his small, speculative eyes. "The ghost that is -common to Scotch castles and English manor-houses, and that -appears in an orthodox night-gown, sighs, screams, rattles chains -and bangs doors ad libitum. No, no! That kind of ghost is composed -of indigestion, aided by rats and a gust of wind. No; when I say -ghosts, I mean ghosts--ghosts that do not need the midnight hour -to evolve themselves into being, and that by no means vanish at -cock-crow. My ghosts are those that move about among us in social -intercourse for days, months--sometimes years--according to their -several missions; ghosts that talk to us, imitate our customs and -ways, shake hands with us, laugh and dance with us, and altogether -comport themselves like human beings. Those are my kind of ghosts- --'scientific' ghosts. There are hundreds, aye, perhaps thousands -of them in the world at this very moment." - -An uncomfortable shudder ran through Courtney's veins; the -Doctor's manner seemed peculiar and uncanny. - -"By Jove! I hope not!" he involuntarily exclaimed. "The orthodox -ghost is an infinitely better arrangement. One at least knows what -to expect. But a 'scientific' ghost that moves about in society, -resembling ourselves in every respect, appearing to be actually -human and yet having no humanity at all in its composition, is a -terrific notion indeed! You don't mean to say you believe in the -possibility of such an appalling creature?" - -"I not only believe it," answered the Doctor composedly, "I know -it!" - -Here the band crashed out "God save the Queen," which, as a witty -Italian once remarked, is the De Profundis of every English -festivity. - -"But--God bless my soul!" began Courtney ... - -"No, don't say that!" urged the Doctor. "Say 'God save the Queen.' -It's more British." - -"Bother 'God save the Queen,'" exclaimed Courtney impatiently.-- -"Look here, you don't mean it seriously, do you?" - -"I always mean everything seriously," said Dr. Dean,--"even my -jokes." - -"Now come, no nonsense, Doctor," and Courtney, taking his arm, led -him towards one of the windows opening out to the moonlit garden,- --"can you, as an honest man, assure me in sober earnest that there -are 'scientific ghosts' of the nature you describe?" - -The little Doctor surveyed the scenery, glanced up at the moon, -and then at his companion's pleasant but not very intelligent -face. - -"I would rather not discuss the matter," he said at last, with -some brusqueness. "There are certain subjects connected with -psychic phenomena on which it is best to be silent; besides, what -interest can such things have for you? You are a sportsman,--keep -to your big game, and leave ghost-hunting to me." - -"That is not a fair answer to my question," said Courtney, "I'm -sure I don't want to interfere with your researches in any way; I -only want to know if it is a fact that ghosts exist, and that they -are really of such a nature as to deserve the term 'scientific.'" - -Dr. Dean was silent a moment. Then, stretching out his small, thin -hand, he pointed to the clear sky, where the stars were almost -lost to sight in the brilliance of the moon. - -"Look out there!" he said, his voice thrilling with sudden and -solemn fervor. "There in the limitless ether move millions of -universes--vast creations which our finite brains cannot estimate -without reeling,--enormous forces always at work, in the mighty -movements of which our earth is nothing more than a grain of sand. -Yet far more marvellous than their size or number is the -mathematical exactitude of their proportions,--the minute -perfection of their balance,--the exquisite precision with which -every one part is fitted to another part, not a pin's point awry, -not a hair's breadth astray. Well, the same exactitude which rules -the formation and working of Matter controls the formation and -working of Spirit; and this is why I know that ghosts exist, and, -moreover, that we are COMPELLED by the laws of the phenomena -surrounding us to meet them every day." - -"I confess I do not follow you at all," said Courtney bewildered. - -"No," and Dr. Dean smiled curiously. "I have perhaps expressed -myself obscurely. Yet I am generally considered a clear exponent. -First of all, let me ask you, do you believe in the existence of -Matter?" - -"Why, of course!" - -"You do. Then you will no doubt admit that there is Something--an -Intelligent Principle or Spiritual Force--which creates and -controls this Matter?" - -Courtney hesitated. - -"Well, I suppose there must be," he said at last. "I'm not a -church-goer, and I'm rather a free-thinker, but I certainly -believe there is a Mind at work behind the Matter." - -"That being the case," proceeded the Doctor, "I suppose you will -not deny to this Invisible Mind the same exactitude of proportion -and precise method of action already granted to Visible Matter?". - -"Of course, I could not deny such a reasonable proposition," said -Courtney. - -"Very good! Pursuing the argument logically, and allowing for an -exactly-moving Mind behind exactly-working Matter, it follows that -there can be no such thing as injustice anywhere in the universe? -" - -"My dear Socrates redivivus," laughed Courtney, "I fail to see -what all this has to do with ghosts." - -"It has everything to do with them," declared the Doctor -emphatically, "I repeat that if we grant these already stated -premises concerning the composition of Mind and Matter, there can -be no such thing as injustice. Yet seemingly unjust things are -done every day, and seemingly go unpunished. I say 'seemingly' -advisedly, because the punishment is always administered. And here -the 'scientific ghosts' come in. 'Vengeance is mine,' saith the -Lord,--and the ghosts I speak of are the Lord's way of doing it." - -"You mean ..." began Courtney. - -"I mean," continued the Doctor with some excitement, "that the -sinner who imagines his sins are undiscovered is a fool who -deceives himself. I mean that the murderer who has secretly torn -the life out of his shrieking victim in some unfrequented spot, -and has succeeded in hiding his crime from what we call 'justice,' -cannot escape the Spiritual law of vengeance. What would you say," -and Dr. Dean laid his thin fingers on Courtney's coat-sleeve with -a light pressure,--"if I told you that the soul of a murdered -creature is often sent back to earth in human shape to dog its -murderer down? And that many a criminal undiscovered by the police -is haunted by a seeming Person,--a man or a woman,--who is on -terms of intimacy with him,--who eats at his table, drinks his -wine, clasps his hand, smiles in his face, and yet is truly -nothing but the ghost of his victim in human disguise, sent to -drag him gradually to his well-deserved, miserable end; what would -you say to such a thing?" - -"Horrible!" exclaimed Courtney, recoiling. "Beyond everything -monstrous and horrible!" - -The Doctor smiled and withdrew his hand from his companion's arm. - -"There are a great many horrible things in the universe as well as -pleasant ones," he observed dryly. "Crime and its results are -always of a disagreeable nature. But we cannot alter the psychic -law of equity any more than we can alter the material law of -gravitation. It is growing late; I think, if you will excuse me, I -will go to bed." - -Courtney look at him puzzled and baffled. - -"Then your 'scientific ghosts' are positive realities?" he began; -here he gave a violent start as a tall white figure suddenly moved -out of the shadows in the garden and came slowly towards them. -"Upon my life, Doctor, you have made me quite nervous!" - -"No, no, surely not," smiled the Doctor pleasantly--"not nervous! -Not such a brave killer of game as you are! No, no! You don't take -Monsieur Armand Gervase for a ghost, do you? He is too -substantial,--far too substantial! Ha! ha! ha!" - -And he laughed quietly, the wrinkled smile still remaining on his -face as Gervase approached. - -"Everybody is going to bed," said the great artist lazily. "With -the departure of the Princess Ziska, the pleasures of the evening -are ended." - -"She is certainly the belle of Cairo this season," said Courtney, -"but I tell you what,--I am rather sorry to see young Murray has -lost his head about her." - -"Parbleu! So am I," said Gervase imperturbably; "it seems a pity." - -"He will get over it," interposed Dr. Dean placidly. "It's an -illness,--like typhoid,--we must do all we can to keep down the -temperature of the patient, and we shall pull him through." - -"Keep him cool, in short!" laughed Gervase. - -"Exactly!" The little Doctor smiled shrewdly. "You look feverish, -Monsieur Gervase." - -Gervase flushed red under his dark skin. - -"I daresay I am feverish," he replied irritably,--"I find this -place hot as an oven. I think I should go away to-morrow if I had -not asked the Princess Ziska to sit to me." - -"You are going to paint her picture?" exclaimed Courtney. "By -Jove! I congratulate you. It will be the masterpiece of the next -salon" - -Gervase bowed. - -"You flatter me! The Princess is undoubtedly an attractive -subject. But, as I said before, this place stifles me. I think the -hotel is too near the river,--there is an oozy smell from the Nile -that I hate, and the heat is perfectly sulphureous. Don't you find -it so, Doctor?" - -"N-n-o! I cannot say that I do. Let me feel your pulse; I am not a -medical man--but I can easily recognize any premonitions of -illness." - -Gervase held out his long, brown, well-shaped hand, and the -savant's small, cool fingers pressed lightly on his wrist. - -"You are quite well, Monsieur Gervase," he said after a pause,-- -"You have a little sur-excitation of the nerves, certainly,--but -it is not curable by medicine." He dropped the hand he held, and -looked up--"Good-night!" - -"Good-night!" responded Gervase. - -"Good-night!" added Courtney. - -And with an amiable salutation the Doctor went his way. The ball- -room was now quite deserted, and the hotel servants were -extinguishing the lights. - -"A curious little man, that Doctor," observed Gervase, addressing -Courtney, to whom as yet he had not been formally introduced. - -"Very curious!" was the reply, "I have known him for some years,-- -he is a very clever man, but I have never been able quite to make -him out. I think he is a bit eccentric. He's just been telling me -he believes in ghosts." - -"Ah, poor fellow!" and Gervase yawned as, with his companion, he -crossed the deserted ball-room. "Then he has what you call a screw -loose. I suppose it is that which makes him interesting. Good- -night!" - -"Good-night!" - -And separating, they went their several ways to the small, cell- -like bedrooms, which are the prime discomfort of the Gezireh -Palace Hotel, and soon a great silence reigned throughout the -building. All Cairo slept,--save where at an open lattice window -the moon shone full on a face up-turned to her silver radiance,-- -the white, watchful face, and dark, sleepless eyes of the Princess -Ziska. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - - -Next day the ordinary course of things was resumed at the Gezireh -Palace Hotel, and the delights and flirtations of the fancy-ball -began to vanish into what Hans Breitmann calls "the ewigkeit". Men -were lazier than usual and came down later to breakfast, and girls -looked worn and haggard with over-much dancing, but otherwise -there was no sign to indicate that the festivity of the past -evening had left "tracks behind," or made a lasting impression of -importance on any human life. Lady Chetwynd Lyle, portly and pig- -faced, sat on the terrace working at an elaborate piece of cross- -stitch, talking scandal in the civilest tone imaginable, and -damning all her "dear friends" with that peculiar air of entire -politeness and good breeding which distinguishes certain ladies -when they are saying nasty things about one another. Her -daughters, Muriel and Dolly, sat dutifully near her, one reading -the Daily Dial, as befitted the offspring of the editor and -proprietor thereof, the other knitting. Lord Fulkeward lounged on -the balustrade close by, and his lovely mother, attired in quite a -charming and girlish costume of white foulard exquisitely cut and -fitting into a waist not measuring more than twenty-two inches, -reclined in a long deck-chair, looking the very pink of painted -and powdered perfection. - -"You are so very lenient," Lady Chetwynd Lyle was saying, as she -bent over her needlework. "So very lenient, my dear Lady -Fulkeward, that I am afraid you do not read people's characters as -correctly as I do. I have had, owing to my husband's position in -journalism, a great deal of social experience, and I assure you I -do NOT think the Princess Ziska a safe person. She may be -perfectly proper--she MAY be--but she is not the style we are -accustomed to in London." - -"I should rather think not!" interrupted Lord Fulkeward, hastily. -"By Jove! She wouldn't have a hair left on her head in London, -don'cher know!" - -"What do you mean?" inquired Muriel Chetwynd Lyle, simpering. "You -really do say such funny things, Lord Fulkeward!" - -"Do I?" and the young nobleman was so alarmed and embarrassed at -the very idea of his ever saying funny things that he was rendered -quite speechless for a moment. Anon he took heart and resumed: -"Er--well--I mean that the society women would tear her to bits in -no time. She'd get asked nowhere, but she'd get blackguarded -everywhere; she couldn't help herself with that face and those -eyes." - -His mother laughed. - -"Dear Fulke! You are such a naughty boy! You shouldn't make such -remarks before Lady Lyle. She never says anything against anyone!" - -"Dear Fulke" stared. Had he given vent to his feelings he would -have exclaimed: "Oh, Lord!--isn't the old lady a deep one!" But as -it was he attended to his young moustache anxiously and remained -silent. Lady Chetwynd Lyle meanwhile flushed with annoyance; she -felt that Lady Fulkeward's remark was sarcastic, but she could not -very well resent it, seeing that Lady Fulkeward was a peeress of -the realm, and that she herself, by the strict laws of heraldry, -was truly only "Dame" Chetwynd Lyle, as wife of an ordinary -knight, and had no business to be called "her ladyship" at all. - -"I should, indeed, be sorry," she said, primly, "if I were -mistaken in my private estimate of the Princess Ziska's character, -but I must believe my own eyes and the evidence of my own senses, -and surely no one can condone the extremely fast way in which she -behaved with that new man--that French artist, Armand Gervase-- -last night. Why, she danced six times with him! And she actually -allowed him to walk home with her through the streets of Cairo! -They went off together, in their fancy dresses, just as they were! -I never heard of such a thing!" - -"Oh, there was nothing remarkable at all in that," said Lord -Fulkeward. "Everybody went about the place in fancy costume last -night. I went out in my Neapolitan dress with a girl, and I met -Denzil Murray coming down a street just behind here--took him for -a Florentine prince, upon my word! And I bet you Gervase never got -beyond the door of the Princess's palace; for that blessed old -Nubian she keeps--the chap with a face like a mummy--bangs the -gate in everybody's face, and says in guttural French: 'La -Princesse ne voit per-r-r-sonne!' I've tried it. I tell you it's -no go!" - -"Well, we shall all get inside the mysterious palace next -Wednesday evening," said Lady Fulkeward, closing her eyes with a -graceful air of languor, "It will be charming, I am sure, and I -daresay we shall find that there is no mystery at all about it." - -"Two months ago," suddenly said a smooth voice behind them, "the -Ziska's house or palace was uninhabited." - -Lady Fulkeward gave a little scream and looked round. - -"Good gracious, Dr. Dean! How you frightened me!" - -The Doctor made an apologetic bow. - -"I am very sorry. I forgot you were so sensitive; pray pardon me! -As I was saying, two months ago the palace of the Princess Ziska -was a deserted barrack. Formerly, so I hear, it used to be the -house of some great personage; but it had been allowed to fall -into decay, and nobody would rent it, even for the rush of the -Cairene season, till it was secured by the Nubian you were -speaking of just now--the interesting Nubian with the face like a -mummy; he took it and furnished it, and when it was ready Madame -la Princesse appeared on the scene and has resided there every -since." - -"I wonder what that Nubian has to do with her?" said Lady Chetwynd -Lyle, severely. - -"Nothing at all," replied the Doctor, calmly. "He is the merest -servant--the kind of person who is 'told off' to attend on the -women of a harem." - -"Ah, I see you have been making inquiries concerning the princess, -Doctor," said Lady Fulkeward, with a smile. - -"I have." - -"And have you found out anything about her?" - -"No; that is, nothing of social importance, except, perhaps, two -items--first, that she is not a Russian; secondly, that she has -never been married." - -"Never been married!" exclaimed Lady Chetwynd Lyle, then suddenly -turning to her daughters she said blandly: "Muriel, Dolly, go into -the house, my dears. It is getting rather warm for you on this -terrace. I will join you in a few minutes." - -The "girls" rose obediently with a delightfully innocent and -juvenile air, and fortunately for them did not notice the -irreverent smile that played on young Lord Fulkeward's face, which -was immediately reflected on the artistically tinted countenance -of his mother, at the manner of their dismissal. - -"There is surely nothing improper in never having been married," -said Dr. Dean, with a mock serious air. "Consider, my dear Lady -Lyle, is there not something very chaste and beautiful in the -aspect of an old maid?" - -Lady Lyle looked up sharply. She had an idea that both she and her -daughters were being quizzed, and she had some difficulty to -control her rising temper. - -"Then do you call the Princess an old maid?" she demanded. - -Lady Fulkeward looked amused; her son laughed outright. But the -Doctor's face was perfectly composed. - -"I don't know what else I can call her," he said, with a -thoughtful air. "She is no longer in her teens, and she has too -much voluptuous charm for an ingenue. Still, I admit, you would -scarcely call her 'old' except in the parlance of the modern -matrimonial market. Our present-day roues, you know, prefer their -victims young, and I fancy the Princess Ziska would be too old and -perhaps too clever for most of them. Personally speaking, she does -not impress me as being of any particular age, but as she is not -married, and is, so to speak, a maid fully developed, I am -perforce obliged to call her an old maid." - -"She wouldn't thank you for the compliment," said Lady Lyle with a -spiteful grin. - -"I daresay not," responded the Doctor blandly, "but I imagine she -has very little personal vanity. Her mind is too preoccupied with -something more important than the consideration of her own good -looks." - -"And what is that?" inquired Lady Fulkeward, with some curiosity. - -"Ah! there is the difficulty! What is it that engrosses our fair -friend more than the looking-glass? I should like to know--but I -cannot find out. It is an enigma as profound as that of the -sphinx. Good-morning, Monsieur Gervase!"--and, turning round, he -addressed the artist, who just then stepped out on the terrace -carrying a paintbox and a large canvas strapped together in -portable form. "Are you going to sketch some picturesque corner of -the city?" - -"No," replied Gervase, listlessly raising his white sun-hat to the -ladies present with a courteous, yet somewhat indifferent grace. -"I'm going to the Princess Ziska's. I shall probably get the whole -outline of her features this morning." - -"A full-length portrait?" inquired the Doctor. - -"I fancy not. Not the first attempt, at any rate--head and -shoulders only." - -"Do you know where her house is?" asked Lord Fulkeward. "If you -don't, I'll walk with you and show you the way." - -"Thanks--you are very good. I shall be obliged to you." - -And raising his hat again he sauntered slowly off, young Fulkeward -walking with him and chatting to him with more animation than that -exhausted and somewhat vacant-minded aristocrat usually showed to -anyone. - -"It is exceedingly warm," said Lady Lyle, rising then and putting -away her cross-stitch apparatus, "I thought of driving to the -Pyramids this afternoon, but really ..." - -"There is shade all the way," suggested the Doctor, "I said as -much to a young woman this morning who has been in the hotel for -nearly two months, and hasn't seen the Pyramids yet." - -"What has she been doing with herself?" asked Lady Fulkeward, -smiling. - -"Dancing with officers," said Dr. Dean. "How can Cheops compare -with a moustached noodle in military uniform! Good-bye for the -present; I'm going to hunt for scarabei." - -"I thought you had such a collection of them already," said Lady -Lyle. - -"So I have. But the Princess had a remarkable one on last night, -and I want to find another like it. It's blue--very blue--almost -like a rare turquoise, and it appears it is the sign-manual of the -warrior Araxes, who was a kind of king in his way, or desert -chief, which was about the same thing in those days. He fought for -Amenhotep, and seemed from all accounts to be a greater man than -Amenhotep himself. The Princess Ziska is a wonderful Egyptologist; -I had a most interesting conversation with her last night in the -supper-room." - -"Then she is really a woman of culture and intelligence?" queried -Lady Lyle. - -The Doctor smiled. - -"I should say she would be a great deal too much for the -University of Oxford, as far as Oriental learning goes," he said. -"She can read the Egyptian papyri, she tells me, and she can -decipher anything on any of the monuments. I only wish I could -persuade her to accompany me to Thebes and Karnak." - -Lady Fulkeward unfurled her fan and swayed it to and fro with an -elegant languor. - -"How delightful that would be!" she sighed. "So romantic and -solemn--all those dear old cities with those marvellous figures of -the Egyptians carved and painted on the stones! And Rameses--dear -Rameses! He really has good legs everywhere! Haven't you noticed -that? So many of these ancient sculptures represent the Egyptians -with such angular bodies and such frightfully thin legs, but -Rameses always has good legs wherever you find him. It's so -refreshing! DO make up a party, Dr. Dean!--we'll all go with you; -and I'm sure the Princess Ziska will be the most charming -companion possible. Let us have a dahabeah! I'm good for half the -expenses, if you will only arrange everything." - -The Doctor stroked his chin and looked dubious, but he was -evidently attracted by the idea. - -"I'll see about it," he said at last. "Meanwhile I'll go and have -a hunt for some traces of Amenhotep and Araxes." - -He strolled down the terrace, and Lady Chetwynd Lyle, turning her -back on "old" Lady Fulkeward, went after her "girls," while the -fascinating Fulkeward herself continued to recline comfortably in -her chair, and presently smiled a welcome on a youngish-looking -man with a fair moustache who came forward and sat down beside -her, talking to her in low, tender and confidential tones. He was -the very impecunious colonel of one of the regiments then -stationed in Cairo, and as he never wasted time on sentiment, he -had been lately thinking that a marriage with a widowed peeress -who had twenty thousand pounds a year in her own right might not -be a "half bad" arrangement for him. So he determined to do the -agreeable, and as he was a perfect adept in the art of making love -without feeling it, he got on very well, and his prospects -brightened steadily hour by hour. - -Meanwhile young Fulkeward was escorting Armand Gervase through -several narrow by-streets, talking to him as well as he knew how -and trying in his feeble way to "draw him out," in which task he -met with but indifferent success. - -"It must be awfully jolly and--er--all that sort of thing to be so -famous," he observed, glancing up at the strong, dark, brooding -face above him. "They had a picture of yours over in London once; -I went to see it with my mother. It was called 'Le Poignard,' do -you remember it?" - -Gervase shrugged his shoulders carelessly. - -"Yes, I remember. A poor thing at its best. It was a woman with a -dagger in her hand." - -"Yes, awfully fine, don'cher know! She was a very dark woman--too -dark for my taste,--and she'd got a poignard clasped in in her -right hand. Of course, she was going to murder somebody with it; -that was plain enough. You meant it so, didn't you?" - -"I suppose I did." - -"She was in a sort of Eastern get-up," pursued Fulkeward, "one of -your former studies in Egypt, perhaps." - -Gervase started, and passed his hand across his forehead with a -bewildered air. - -"No, no! Not a former study, by any means. How could it be? This -is my first visit to Egypt. I have never been here before." - -"Haven't you? Really! Well, you'll find it awfully interesting and -all that sort of thing. I don't see half as much of it as I should -like. I'm a weak chap--got something wrong with my lungs,--awful -bother, but can't be helped. My mother won't let me do too much. -Here we are; this is the Princess Ziska's." - -They were standing in a narrow street ending in a cul-de-sac, with -tall houses on each side which cast long, black, melancholy -shadows on the rough pavement below. A vague sense of gloom and -oppression stole over Gervase as he surveyed the outside of the -particular dwelling Fulkeward pointed out to him--a square, -palatial building, which had no doubt once been magnificent in its -exterior adornment, but which now, owing to long neglect, had -fallen into somewhat melancholy decay. The sombre portal, -fantastically ornamented with designs copied from some of the -Egyptian monuments, rather resembled the gateway of a tomb than an -entrance to the private residence of a beautiful living woman, and -Fulkeward, noting his companion's silence, added: - -"Not a very cheerful corner, is it? Some of these places are -regular holes, don'cher know; but I daresay it's all right -inside." - -"You have never been inside?" - -"Never." And Fulkeward lowered his voice: "Look up there; there's -the beast that keeps everybody out!" - -Gervase followed his glance, and perceived behind the projecting -carved lattice-work of one of the windows a dark, wrinkled face -and two gleaming eyes which, even at that distance, had, or -appeared to have, a somewhat sinister expression. - -"He's the nastiest type of Nubian I have ever seen," pursued -Fulkeward. "Looks just like a galvanized corpse." - -Gervase smiled, and perceiving a long bell-handle at the gateway, -pulled it sharply. In another moment the Nubian appeared, his -aspect fully justifying Lord Fulkeward's description of him. The -parchment-like skin on his face was yellowish-black, and wrinkled -in a thousand places; his lips were of a livid blue, and were -drawn up and down above and below the teeth in a kind of fixed -grin, while the dense brilliance of his eyes was so fierce and -fiery as to suggest those of some savage beast athirst for prey. - -"Madame la Princesse Ziska" began Gervase, addressing his -unfascinating object with apparent indifference to his -hideousness. - -The Nubian's grinning lips stretched themselves wider apart as, in -a thick, snarling voice he demanded: - -"Votre nom?" - -"Armand Gervase." - -"Entrez!" - -"Et moi?" queried Fulkeward, with a conciliatory smile. - -"Non! Pas vous. Monsieur Armand Gervase, seul!" - -Fulkeward gave a resigned shrug of his shoulders; Gervase looked -round at him ere he crossed the threshold of the mysterious -habitation. - -"I'm sorry you have to walk back alone." - -"Don't mention it," said Fulkeward affably. "You see, you have -come on business. You're going to paint the Princess's picture; -and I daresay this blessed old rascal knows that I want nothing -except to look at his mistress and wonder what she's made of." - -"What she's made of?" echoed Gervase in surprise. "Don't you think -she's made like other women?" - -"No; can't say I do. She seems all fire and vapor and eyes in the -middle, don'cher know. Oh, I'm an ass--always was--but that's the -feeling she gives me. Ta-ta! Wish you a pleasant morning!" - -He nodded and strolled away, and Gervase hesitated yet another -moment, looking full at the Nubian, who returned him stare for -stare. - -"Maintenant?" he began. - -"Oui, maintenant" echoed the Nubian. - -"La Princesse, ou est elle?" - -"La!" and the Nubian pointed down a long, dark passage beyond -which there seemed to be the glimmer of green palms and other -foliage. "Elle vous attend, Monsieur Armand Gervase! Entrez! -Suivez!" - -Slowly Gervase passed in, and the great tomb-like door closed upon -him with a heavy clang. The whole long, bright day passed, and he -did not reappear; not a human foot crossed the lonely street and -nothing was seen there all through the warm sunshiny hours save -the long, black shadows on the pavement, which grew longer and -darker as the evening fell. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - - -Within the palace of the Princess Ziska a strange silence reigned. -In whatever way the business of her household was carried on, it -was evidently with the most absolute noiselessness, for not a -sound disturbed the utter stillness environing her. She herself, -clad in white garments that clung about her closely, displaying -the perfect outlines of her form, stood waiting for her guest in a -room that was fairly dazzling to the eye in its profusion of -exquisitely assorted and harmonized colors, as well as impressive -to the mind in its suggestions of the past rather than of the -present. Quaint musical instruments of the fashion of thousands of -years ago hung on the walls or lay on brackets and tables, but no -books such as our modern time produces were to be seen; only tied- -up bundles of papyri and curious little tablets of clay inscribed -with mysterious hieroglyphs. Flowers adorned every corner--many of -them strange blossoms which a connoisseur would have declared to -be unknown in Egypt,--palms and ferns and foliage of every -description were banked up against the walls in graceful -profusion, and from the latticed windows the light filtered -through colored squares, giving a kind of rainbow-effect to the -room, as though it were a scene in a dream rather than a reality. -And even more dream-like than her surroundings was the woman who -awaited the approach of her visitor, her eyes turned towards the -door--fiery eyes filled with such ardent watchfulness as seemed to -burn the very air. The eyes of a hawk gleaming on its prey,--the -eyes of a famished tiger in the dark, were less fraught with -terrific meaning than the eyes of Ziska as she listened -attentively to the on-coming footsteps through the outside -corridor which told her that Gervase was near. - -"At last!" she whispered, "at last!" The next moment the Nubian -flung the door wide open and announced "Monsieur Armand Gervase!" - -She advanced with all the wonderful grace which distinguished her, -holding out both her slim, soft hands. Gervase caught them in his -own and kissed them fervently, whereupon the Nubian retired, -closing the door after him. - -"You are very welcome, Monsieur Gervase," said the Princess then, -speaking with a measured slowness that was attractive as well as -soothing to the ear. "You have left all the dear English people -well at the Gezireh Palace? Lady Fulkeward was not too tired after -her exertions at the ball? And you?" - -But Gervase was gazing at her in a speechless confusion of mind -too great for words. A sudden, inexplicable emotion took -possession of him,--an emotion to which he could give no name, but -which stupefied him and held him mute. Was it her beauty which so -dazzled his senses? Was it some subtle perfume in the room that -awoke a dim haunting memory? Or what was it that seemed so -strangely familiar? He struggled with himself, and finally spoke -out his thought: - -"I have seen you before, Princess; I am quite sure I have! I -thought I had last night; but to-day I am positive about it. -Strange, isn't it? I wonder where we really met?" - -Her dark eyes rested on him fully. - -"I wonder!" she echoed, smiling. "The world is so small, and so -many people nowadays make the 'grand tour,' that it is not at all -surprising we should have passed each other en route through our -journey of life." - -Gervase still hesitated, glancing about him with a singularly -embarrassed air, while she continued to watch him intently. -Presently his sensations, whatever they were, passed off, and -gradually recovering his equanimity, he became aware that he was -quite alone with one of the most fascinating women he had ever -seen. His eyes flashed, and he smiled. - -"I have come to paint your picture," he said softly. "Shall I -begin?" - -She had seated herself on a silken divan, and her head rested -against a pile of richly-embroidered cushions. Without waiting for -her answer, he threw himself down beside her and caught her hand -in his. - -"Shall I paint your picture?" he whispered. "Or shall I make love -to you?" - -She laughed,--the sweet, low laugh that somehow chilled his blood -while it charmed his hearing. - -"Whichever you please," she answered. "Both performances would no -doubt be works of art!" - -"What do you mean?" - -"Can you not understand? If you paint my picture it will be a work -of art. If you make love to me it will equally be a work of art: -that is, a composed thing--an elaborate study." - -"Bah! Love is not a composed thing," said Gervase, leaning closer -to her. "It is wild, and full of libertinage as the sea." - -"And equally as fickle," added the Princess composedly, taking a -fan of feathers near her and waving it to and fro. "Man's idea of -love is to take all he can get from a woman, and give her nothing -in return but misery sometimes, and sometimes death." - -"You do not,--you cannot think that!" said Gervase, looking at her -dazzling face with a passion of admiration he made no attempt to -conceal. "Men on the whole are not as cruel or as treacherous as -women. I would swear, looking at you, that, beautiful as you are, -you are cruel, and that is perhaps why I love you! You are like a -splendid tigress waiting to be tamed!" - -"And you think you could tame me?" interposed Ziska, looking at -him with an inscrutable disdain in her black eyes. - -"Yes, if you loved me!" - -"Ah, possibly! But then it happens that I do not love you. I love -no one. I have had too much of love; it is a folly I have grown -weary of!" - -Gervase fixed his eyes on her with an audacious look which seemed -to hint that he might possibly take advantage of being alone with -her to enforce his ideas of love more eloquently than was in -accordance with the proprieties. She perceived his humor, smiled, -and coldly gave him back glance for glance. Then, rising from the -divan, she drew herself up to her full height and surveyed him -with a kind of indulgent contempt. - -"You are an uprincipled man, Armand Gervase," she said; "and do -you know I fear you always will be! A cleansing of your soul -through centuries of fire will be necessary for you in the next -world,--that next world which you do not believe in. But it is -perhaps as well to warn you that I am not without protection in -this place ... See!" and as she spoke she clapped her hands. - -A clanging noise as of brazen bells answered her,--and Gervase, -springing up from his seat, saw, to his utter amazement, the -apparently solid walls of the room in which they were, divide -rapidly and form themselves in several square openings which -showed a much larger and vaster apartment beyond, resembling a -great hall. Here were assembled some twenty or thirty gorgeously- -costumed Arab attendants,--men of a dark and sinister type, who -appeared to be fully armed, judging from the unpleasant-looking -daggers and other weapons they carried at their belts. The -Princess clapped her hands again, and the walls closed in the same -rapid fashion as they had opened, while the beautiful mistress of -this strange habitation laughed mirthfully at the complete -confusion of her visitor and would-be lover. - -"Paint me now!" she said, flinging herself in a picturesque -attitude on one of the sofas close by; "I am ready." - -"But _I_ am not ready!" retorted Gervase, angrily. "Do you take me -for a child, or a fool?" - -"Both in one," responded the Princess, tranquilly; "being a man!" - -His breath came and went quickly. - -"Take care, beautiful Ziska!" he said. "Take care how you defy -me!" - -"And take care, Monsieur Gervase; take care how you defy ME!" she -responded, with a strange, quick glance at him. "Do you not -realize what folly you are talking? You are making love to me in -the fashion of a brigand, rather than a nineteenth-century -Frenchman of good standing,--and I--I have to defend myself -against you also brigand-wise, by showing you that I have armed -servants within call! It is very strange,--it would frighten even -Lady Fulkeward, and I think she is not easily frightened. Pray -commence your work, and leave such an out-of-date matter as love -to dreamers and pretty sentimentalists, like Miss Helen Murray." - -He was silent, and busied himself in unstrapping his canvas and -paint-box with a great deal of almost vicious energy. In a few -moments he had gained sufficient composure to look full at her, -and taking his palette in hand, he began dabbing on the colors, -talking between whiles. - -"Do you suppose," he said, keeping his voice carefully subdued, -"that you can intimidate me by showing me a score of wretched -black rascals whom you have placed on guard to defend you out -there? And why did you place them on guard? You must have been -afraid of me! Pardieu! I could snatch you out of their midst, if I -chose! You do not know me; if you did, you would understand that -not all the world, armed to the teeth should balk me of my -desires! But I have been too hasty--that I own,--I can wait." He -raised his eyes and saw that she was listening with an air of -amused indifference. "I shall have to mix strange tints in your -portrait, ma belle! It is difficult to find the exact hue of your -skin--there is rose and brown in it; and there is yet another -color which I must evolve while working,--and it is not the hue of -health. It is something dark and suggestive of death; I hope you -are not destined to an early grave! And yet, why not? It is better -that a beautiful woman should die in her beauty than live to -become old and tiresome ..." - -"You think that?" interrupted the Ziska suddenly, smiling somewhat -coldly. - -"I do, most honestly. Had I lived in the early days of -civilization, when men were allowed to have as many women as they -could provide for, I would have mercifully killed any sweet -favorite as soon as her beauty began to wane. A lovely woman, dead -in her first exquisite youth,--how beautiful a subject for the -mind to dwell upon! How it suggests all manner of poetic fancies -and graceful threnodies! But a woman grown old, who has outlived -all passion and is a mere bundle of fat, or a mummy of skin and -bone,--what poetry does her existence suggest? How can she appeal -to art or sentiment? She is a misery to herself and an eyesore to -others. Yes, Princess, believe me,--Love first, and Death -afterwards, are woman's best friends." - -"You believe in Death?" ask the Princess, looking steadily at him. - -"It is the only thing I do believe in," he answered lightly. "It -is a fact that will bear examination, but not contradiction. May I -ask you to turn your head slightly to the left--so! Yes, that will -do; if I can catch the look in your eyes that gleams there now,-- -the look of intense, burning, greedy cruelty which is so -murderously fascinating, I shall be content." - -He seated himself opposite to her, and, putting down his palette, -took up his canvas, and posing it on his knee, began drawing the -first rough outline of his sketch in charcoal. She, meanwhile, -leaning against heaped-up cushions of amber satin, remained -silent. - -"You are not a vain woman," he pursued, "or you would resent my -description of your eyes. 'Greedy cruelty' is not a pretty -expression, nor would it be considered complimentary by the -majority of the fair sex. Yet, from my point of view, it is the -highest flattery I can pay you, for I adore the eyes of savage -animals, and the beautiful eye of the forest-beast is in your -head,--diableresse charmante comme vous etes! I wonder what gives -you such an insatiate love of vengeance?" - -He looked up and saw her eyes glistening and narrowing at the -corners, like the eyes of an angry snake. - -"If I have such a feeling," she replied slowly, "it is probably a -question of heritage." - -"Ah! Your parents were perhaps barbaric in their notions of love -and hatred?" he queried, lazily working at his charcoal sketch -with growing admiration for its result. - -"My parents came of a race of kings!" she answered. "All my -ancestors were proud, and of a temper unknown to this petty day. -They resented a wrong, they punished falsehood and treachery, and -they took a life for a life. YOUR generation tolerates every sin -known in the calendar with a smile and a shrug,--you have arrived -at the end of your civilization, even to the denial of Deity and a -future life." - -"That is not the end of our civilization, Princess," said Gervase, -working away intently, with eyes fixed on the canvas as he talked. -"That is the triumphal apex, the glory, the culmination of -everything that is great and supreme in manhood. In France, man -now knows himself to be the only God; England--good, slow-pacing -England--is approaching France in intelligence by degrees, and I -rejoice to see that it is possible for a newspaper like the -Agnostic to exist in London. Only the other day that excellent -journal was discussing the possibility of teaching monkeys to -read, and a witty writer, who adopts the nom de plume of -'Saladin,' very cleverly remarked 'that supposing monkeys were -able to read the New Testament, they would still remain monkeys; -in fact, they would probably be greater monkeys than ever.' The -fact of such an expression being allowed to pass muster in once -pious London is an excellent sign of the times and of our progress -towards the pure Age of Reason. The name of Christ is no longer -one to conjure with." - -A dead silence followed his words, and the peculiar stillness and -heaviness of the atmosphere struck him with a vague alarm. He -lifted his eyes,--the Princess Ziska met his gaze steadily, but -there was something in her aspect that moved him to wonderment and -a curious touch of terror. The delicate rose-tint of her cheeks -had faded to an ashy paleness, her lips were pressed together -tightly and her eyes seemed to have gained a vivid and angry -lustre which Medusa herself might have envied. - -"Did you ever try to conjure with that name?" she asked. - -"Never," he replied, forcing a smile and remonstrating with -himself for the inexplicable nature of his emotions. - -She went on slowly: - -"In my creed--for I have a creed--it is believed that those who -have never taken the sacred name of Christ to their hearts, as a -talisman of comfort and support, are left as it were in the vortex -of uncertainties, tossed to and fro among many whirling and mighty -forces, and haunted forever by the phantoms of their own evil -deeds. Till they learn and accept the truth of their marvellous -Redemption, they are the prey of wicked spirits who tempt and lead -them on to divers miseries. But when the great Name of Him who -died upon the Cross is acknowledged, then it is found to be of -that transfiguring nature which turns evil to good, and sometimes -makes angels out of fiends. Nevertheless, for the hardened -reprobate and unbeliever the old laws suffice." - -Gervase had stopped the quick movement of his "fusin," and looked -at her curiously. - -"What old laws?" he asked. - -"Stern justice without mercy!" she answered; then in lighter -accents she added: "Have you finished your first outline?" - -In reply, he turned his canvas round to her, showing her a head -and profile boldly presented in black and white. She smiled. - -"It is clever; but it is not like me," she said. "When you begin -the coloring you will find that your picture and I have no -resemblance to each other." - -He flushed with a sense of wounded amour propre. - -"Pardon, madame!--I am no novice at the art of painting," he said; -"and much as your charms dazzle and ensnare me, they do not -disqualify my brain and hand from perfectly delineating them upon -my canvas. I love you to distraction; but my passion shall not -hinder me from making your picture a masterpiece." - -She laughed. - -"What an egoist you are, Monsieur Gervase!" she said. "Even in -your professed passion for me you count yourself first,--me -afterwards!" - -"Naturally!" he replied. "A man must always be first by natural -creation. When he allows himself to play second fiddle, he is a -fool!" - -"And when he is a fool--and he often is--he is the first of -fools!" said the Princess. "No ape--no baboon hanging by its tail -to a tree--looks such a fool as a man-fool. For a man-fool has had -all the opportunities of education and learning bestowed upon him; -this great universe, with its daily lessons of the natural and the -supernatural, is his book laid open for his reading, and when he -will neither read it nor consider it, and, moreover, when he -utterly denies the very Maker of it, then there is no fool in all -creation like him. For the ape-fool does at least admit that there -may be a stronger beast somewhere,--a creature who may suddenly -come upon him and end his joys of hanging by his tail to a tree -and make havoc of his fruit-eating and chattering, while man -thinks there is nothing anywhere superior to himself." - -Gervase smiled tolerantly. - -"I am afraid I have ruffled you, Princess," he said. "I see you -have religious ideas: I have none." - -Once again she laughed musically. - -"Religious ideas! I! Not at all. I have a creed as I told you, but -it is an ugly one--not at all sentimental or agreeable. It is one -I have adopted from ancient Egypt." - -"Explain it to me," said Gervase; "I will adopt it also, for your -sake." - -"It is too supernatural for you," she said, paying no heed to the -amorous tone of his voice or the expressive tenderness of his -eyes. - -"Never mind! Love will make me accept an army of ghosts, if -necessary." - -"One of the chief tenets of my faith," she continued, "is the -eternal immortality of each individual Soul. Will you accept -that?" - -"For the moment, certainly!" - -Her eyes glowed like great jewels as she proceeded: - -"The Egyptian cult I follow is very briefly explained. The Soul -begins in protoplasm without conscious individuality. It -progresses through various forms till individual consciousness is -attained. Once attained, it is never lost, but it lives on, -pressing towards perfection, taking upon itself various phases of -existence according to the passions which have most completely -dominated it from the first. That is all. But according to this -theory, you might have lived in the world long ago, and so might -I: we might even have met; and for some reason or other we may -have become re-incarnated now. A disciple of my creed would give -you that as the reason why you sometimes imagine you have seen me -before." - -As she spoke, the dazed and troubled sensation he had once -previously experienced came upon him; he laid down the canvas he -held and passed his hand across his forehead bewilderedly. - -"Yes; very curious and fantastic. I've heard a great deal about -the doctrine of reincarnation. I don't believe in it,--I can't -believe in it! But if I could: if I could imagine I had ever met -you in some bygone time, and you were like what you are at this -moment, I should have loved you,--I MUST have loved you! You see I -cannot leave the subject of love alone; and your re-incarnation -idea gives my fancy something to work upon. So, beautiful Ziska, -if your soul ever took the form of a flower, I must have been its -companion blossom; if it ever paced the forest as a beast of prey, -I must have been its mate; if it ever was human before, then I -must have been its lover! Do you like such pretty follies? I will -talk them by the hour." - -Here he rose, and with a movement that was half fierce and half -tender, he knelt beside her, taking her hands in his own. - -"I love you, Ziska! I cannot help myself. I am drawn to you by -some force stronger than my own will; but you need not be afraid -of me--not yet! As I said, I can wait. I can endure the mingled -torture and rapture of this sudden passion and make no sign, till -my patience tires, and then--then I will win you if I die for it!" - -He sprang up before she could speak a word in answer, and seizing -his canvas again, exclaimed gayly: - -"Now for the hues of morning and evening combined, to paint the -radiance of this wicked soul of love that so enthralls me! First, -the raven-black of midnight for the hair,--the lustre of the -coldest, brightest stars for eyes,--the blush-rose of early dawn -for lips and cheeks. Ah! How shall I make a real beginning of this -marvel?" - -"It will be difficult, I fear," said Ziska slowly, with a faint, -cold smile; "and still more difficult, perchance, will be the -end!" - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - - -The table d'hote at the Gezireh Palace Hotel had already begun -when Gervase entered the dining-room and sat down near Lady -Fulkeward and Dr. Dean. - -"You have missed the soup," said her ladyship, looking up at him -with a sweet smile. "All you artists are alike,--you have no idea -whatever of time. And how have you succeeded with that charming -mysterious person, the Princess Ziska?" - -Gervase kept his gaze steadily fixed on the table-cloth. He was -extremely pale, and had the air of one who has gone through some -great mental exhaustion. - -"I have not succeeded as well as I expected," he answered slowly. -"I think my hand must have lost its cunning. At any rate, whatever -the reason may be, Art has been defeated by Nature." - -He crumbled up the piece of bread near his plate in small portions -with a kind of involuntary violence in the action, and Dr. Dean, -deliberately drawing out a pair of spectacles from their case, -adjusted them, and surveyed him curiously. - -"You mean to say that you cannot paint the Princess's picture?" - -Gervase glanced up at him with a half-sullen, half-defiant -expression. - -"I don't say that," he replied; "I can paint something--something -which you can call a picture if you like,--but there is no -resemblance to the Princess Ziska in it. She is beautiful, and I -can get nothing of her beauty,--I can only get the reflection of a -face which is not hers." - -"How very curious!" exclaimed Lady Fulkeward. "Quite -psychological, is it not, Doctor? It is almost creepy!" and she -managed to produce a delicate shudder of her white shoulders -without cracking the blanc de perle enamel. "It will be something -fresh for you to study." - -"Possibly it will--possibly," said the Doctor, still surveying -Gervase blandly through his round glasses; "but it isn't the first -time I have heard of painters who unconsciously produce other -faces than those of their sitters. I distinctly remember a case in -point. A gentleman, famous for his charities and general -benevolence, had his portrait painted by a great artist for -presentation to the town-hall of his native place, and the artist -was quite unable to avoid making him unto the likeness of a -villain. It was quite a distressing affair; the painter was -probably more distressed than anybody about it, and he tried by -every possible means in his power to impart a truthful and noble -aspect to the countenance of the man who was known and admitted to -be a benefactor to his race. But it was all in vain: the portrait -when finished was the portrait of a stranger and a scoundrel. The -people for whom it was intended declared they would not have such -a libel on their generous friend hung up in their town-hall. The -painter was in despair, and there was going to be a general -hubbub, when, lo and behold the 'noble' personage himself was -suddenly arrested for a brutal murder committed twelve years back. -He was found guilty and hanged, and the painter kept the portrait -that had so remarkably betrayed the murderer's real nature, as a -curiosity ever afterwards." - -"Is that a fact?" inquired a man who was seated at the other side -of the table, and who had listened with great interest to the -story. - -"A positive fact," said the Doctor. "One of those many singular -circumstances which occur in life, and which are beyond all -explanation." - -Gervase moved restlessly; then filling for himself a glass of -claret, drained it off thirstily. - -"Something of the same kind has happened to me," he said with a -hard, mirthless laugh, "for out of the most perfect beauty I have -only succeeded in presenting an atrocity." - -"Dear me!" exclaimed Lady Fulkeward. "What a disappointing day you -must have had! But of course, you will try again; the Princess -will surely give you another sitting?" - -"Oh, yes! I shall certainly try again and yet again, and ever so -many times again," said Gervase, with a kind of angry obstinacy in -his tone, "the more so as she has told me I will never succeed in -painting her." - -"She told you that, did she?" put in Dr. Dean, with an air of -lively interest. - -"Yes." - -Just then the handing round of fresh dishes and the clatter of -knives and forks effectually put a stop to the conversation for -the time, and Gervase presently glancing about him saw that Denzil -Murray and his sister were dining apart at a smaller table with -young Lord Fulkeward and Ross Courtney. Helen was looking her -fairest and best that evening--her sweet face, framed in its angel -aureole of bright hair had a singular look of pureness and truth -expressed upon it rare to find in any woman beyond her early -teens. Unconsciously to himself, Gervase sighed as he caught a -view of her delicate profile, and Lady Fulkeward's sharp ears -heard the sound of that sigh. - -"Isn't that a charming little party over there?" she asked. "Young -people, you know! They always like to be together! That very sweet -girl, Miss Murray, was so much distressed about her brother to- -day,--something was the matter with him--a touch of fever, I -believe,--that she begged me to let Fulke dine with them in order -to distract Mr. Denzil's mind. Fulke is a dear boy, you know--very -consoling in his ways, though he says so little. Then Mr. Courtney -volunteered to join them, and there they are. The Chetwynd Lyles -are gone to a big dinner at the Continental this evening." - -"The Chetwynd Lyles--let me see. Who are they?" mused Gervase -aloud, "Do I know them?" - -"No,--that is, you have not been formally introduced," said Dr. -Dean." Sir Chetwynd Lyle is the editor and proprietor of the -London Daily Dial, Lady Chetwynd Lyle is his wife, and the two -elderly-youthful ladies who appeared as 'Boulogne fishwives' last -night at the ball are his daughters." - -"Cruel man!" exclaimed Lady Fulkeward with a girlish giggle. "The -idea of calling those sweet girls, Muriel and Dolly, 'elderly- -youthful!'" - -"What are they, my dear madam, what are they?" demanded the -imperturbable little savant. "'Elderly-youthful' is a very -convenient expression, and applies perfectly to people who refuse -to be old and cannot possibly be young." - -"Nonsense! I will not listen to you!" and her ladyship opened her -jewelled fan and spread it before her eyes to completely screen -the objectionable Doctor from view. "Don't you know your theories -are quite out of date? Nobody is old,--we all utterly refuse to be -old! Why," and she shut her fan with a sudden jerk, "I shall have -you calling ME old next." - -"Never, madam!" said Dr. Dean gallantly laying his hand upon his -heart. "You are quite an exception to the rule. You have passed -through the furnace of marriage and come out unscathed. Time has -done its worst with you, and now retreats, baffled and powerless; -it can touch you no more!" - -Whether this was meant as a compliment or the reverse it would -have been difficult to say, but Lady Fulkeward graciously accepted -it as the choicest flattery, and bowed, smiling and gratified. -Dinner was now drawing to its end, and people were giving their -orders for coffee to be served to them on the terrace and in the -gardens, Gervase among the rest. The Doctor turned to him. - -"I should like to see your picture of the Princess," he said,-- -"that is if you have no objection." - -"Not the least in the world," replied Gervase,--"only it isn't the -Princess, it is somebody else." - -A faint shudder passed over him. The Doctor noticed it. - -"Talking of curious things," went on that irrepressible savant, "I -started hunting for a particular scarabeus to-day. I couldn't find -it, of course,--it generally takes years to find even a trifle -that one especially wants. But I came across a queer old man in -one of the curiosity-shops who told me that over at Karnak they -had just discovered a large fresco in one of the tombs describing -the exploits of the very man whose track I'm on--Araxes ..." - -Gervase started,--he knew not why. - -"What has Araxes to do with you?" he demanded. - -"Oh, nothing! But the Princess Ziska spoke of him as a great -warrior in the days of Amenhotep,--and she seems to be a great -Egyptologist, and to know many things of which we are ignorant. -Then you know last night she adopted the costume of a dancer of -that period, named Ziska-Charmazel. Well, now it appears that in -one part of this fresco the scene depicted is this very Ziska- -Charmazel dancing before Araxes." - -Gervase listened with strained attention,--his heart beat thickly, -as though the Doctor were telling him of some horrible -circumstance in which he had an active part; whereas he had truly -no interest at all in the matter, except in so far as events of -history are more or less interesting to everyone. - -"Well?" he said after a pause. - -"Well," echoed Dr. Dean. "There is really nothing more to say -beyond that I want to find out everything I can concerning this -Araxes, if only for the reason that the charming Princess chose to -impersonate his lady-love last night. One must amuse one's self in -one's own fashion, even in Egypt, and this amuses ME." - -Gervase rose, feeling in his pocket for his cigarette-case. - -"Come," he said briefly, "I will show you my picture." - -He straightened his tall, fine figure and walked slowly across the -room to the table where Denzil Murray sat with his sister and -friends. - -"Denzil," he said,--"I have made a strange portrait of the -Princess Ziska, and I'm going to show it to Dr. Dean. I should -like you to see it too. Will you come?" - -Denzil looked at him with a dark reproach in his eyes. - -"If you like," he answered shortly. - -"I do like!" and Gervase laid his hand on the young fellow's -shoulder with a kind pressure. "You will find it a piece of -curious disenchantment, as well as a proof of my want of skill. -You are all welcome to come and look at it except ..." here he -hesitated,--"except Miss Murray. I think--yes, I think it might -possibly frighten Miss Murray." - -Helen raised her eyes to his, but said nothing. - -"Oh, by Jove!" murmured Lord Fulkeward, feeling his moustache as -usual. "Then don't you come, Miss Murray. We'll tell you all about -it afterwards." - -"I have no curiosity on the subject," she said a trifle coldly. -"Denzil, you will find me in the drawing-room. I have a letter to -write home." - -With a slight salute she left them, Gervase watching the -disappearance of her graceful figure with a tinge of melancholy -regret in his eyes. - -"It is evident Mademoiselle Helen does not like the Princess -Ziska," he observed. - -"Oh, well, as to that," said Fulkeward hastily, "you know you -can't expect women to lose their heads about her as men do. -Beside, there's something rather strange in the Princess's manner -and appearance, and perhaps Miss Murray doesn't take to her any -more than I do." - -"Oh, then you are not one of her lovers?" queried Dr. Dean -smiling. - -"No; are you?" - -"I? Good heavens, my dear young sir, I was never in love with a -woman in my life! That is, not what YOU would call in love. At the -age of sixteen I wrote verses to a mature young damsel of forty,-- -a woman with a remarkably fine figure and plenty of it; she -rejected my advances with scorn, and I have never loved since!" - -They all laughed,--even Denzil Murray's sullen features cleared -for the moment into the brightness of a smile. - -"Where did you paint the Princess's picture?" inquired Ross -Courtney suddenly. - -"In her own house," replied Gervase. "But we were not alone, for -the fascinating fair one had some twenty or more armed servants -within call." There was a movement of surprise among his -listeners, and he went on: "Yes; Madame is very well protected, I -assure you,--as much so as if she were the first favorite in a -harem. Come now, and see my sketch." - -He led the way to a private sitting-room which he had secured for -himself in the hotel at almost fabulous terms. It was a small -apartment, but it had the advantage of a long French window which -opened out into the garden. Here, on an easel, was a canvas with -its back turned towards the spectator. - -"Sit down," said Gervase abruptly addressing his guests, "and be -prepared for a curiosity unlike anything you have ever seen -before!" He paused a moment, looking steadily at Dr. Dean. -"Perhaps, Doctor, as you are interested in psychic phenomena, you -may be able to explain how I got such a face on my canvas, for I -cannot explain it to myself." - -He slowly turned the canvas round, and, scarcely heeding the -exclamation of amazement that broke simultaneously from all the -men present, stared at it himself, fascinated by a singular -magnetism more potent than either horror or fear. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - - -What a strange and awful face it was!--what a thing of distorted -passion and pain! What an agony was expressed in every line of the -features!--agony in which the traces of a divine beauty lingered -only to render the whole countenance more repellent and terrific! -A kind of sentient solemnity, mingled with wrath and terror, -glared from the painted eyes,--the lips, slightly parted in a -cruel upward curve, seemed about to utter a shriek of menace,--the -hair, drooping in black, thick clusters low on the brow, looked -wet as with the dews of the rigor mortis,--and to add to the -mysterious horror of the whole conception, the distinct outline of -a death's-head was seen plainly through the rose-brown flesh- -tints. There was no real resemblance in this horrible picture to -the radiant and glowing loveliness of the Princess Ziska, yet, at -the same time, there was sufficient dim likeness to make an -imaginative person think it might be possible for her to assume -that appearance in death. Several minutes passed in utter -silence,--then Lord Fulkeward suddenly rose. - -"I'm going!" he said. "It's a beastly thing; it makes me sick!" - -"Grand merci!" said Gervase with a forced smile. - -"I really can't help it," declared the young man, turning his back -to the picture. "If I am rude, you must excuse it. I'm not very -strong--my mother will tell you I get put out very easily,--and I -shall dream of this horrid face all night if I don't give it a -wide berth." - -And, without any further remark he stepped out through the open -window into the garden, and walked off. Gervase made no comment on -his departure; he turned his eyes towards Dr. Dean who, with -spectacles on nose, was staring hard at the picture with every -sign of the deepest interest. - -"Well, Doctor," he said, "you see it is not at all like the -Princess." - -"Oh, yes it is!" returned the Doctor placidly. "If you could -imagine the Princess's face in torture, it would be like her. It -is the kind of expression she might wear if she suddenly met with -a violent end." - -"But why should I paint her so?" demanded Gervase. "She was -perfectly tranquil; and her attitude was most picturesquely -composed. I sketched her as I thought I saw her,--how did this -tortured head come on my canvas?" - -The Doctor scratched his chin thoughtfully. It was certainly a -problem. He stared hard at Gervase, as though searching for the -clue to the mystery in the handsome artist's own face. Then he -turned to Denzil Murray, who had not stirred or spoken. - -"What do you think of it, eh, Denzil?" he asked. - -The young man started as from a dream. - -"I don't know what to think of it." - -"And you?" said the Doctor, addressing Ross Courtney. - -"I? Oh, I am of the same opinion as Fulkeward,--I think it is a -horrible thing. And the curious part of the matter is that it is -like the Princess Ziska, and yet totally unlike. Upon my word, you -know, it is a very unpleasant picture." - -Dr. Dean got up and paced the room two or three times, his brows -knitted in a heavy frown. Suddenly he stopped in front of Gervase. - -"Tell me," he said, "have you any recollection of ever having met -the Princess Ziska before?" - -Gervase looked puzzled, then answered slowly: - -"No, I have no actual recollection of the kind. At the same time, -I admit to you that there is something about her which has always -struck me as being familiar. The tone of her voice and the -peculiar cadence of her laughter particularly affect me in this -way. Last night when I was dancing with her, I wondered whether I -had ever come across her as a model in one of the studios in Paris -or Rome." - -The Doctor listened to him attentively, watching him narrowly the -while. But he shook his head incredulously at the idea of the -Princess ever having posed as a model. - -"No, no, that won't do!" he said. "I do not believe she was ever -in the model business. Think again. You are now a man in the prime -of life, Monsieur Gervase, but look back to your early youth,--the -period when young men do wild, reckless, and often wicked things,- --did you ever in that thoughtless time break a woman's heart?" - -Gervase flushed, and shrugged his shoulders. - -"Pardieu! I may have done! Who can tell? But if I did, what would -that have to do with this?" and he tapped the picture impatiently. - -The Doctor sat down and smacked his lips with a peculiar air of -enjoyment. - -"It would have a great deal to do with it," he answered, "that is, -psychologically speaking. I have known of such cases. We will -argue the point out systematically thus:--Suppose that you, in -your boyhood, had wronged some woman, and suppose that woman had -died. You might imagine you had got rid of that woman. But if her -love was very strong and her sense of outrage very bitter, I must -tell you that you have not got rid of her by any means, moreover, -you never will get rid of her. And why? Because her Soul, like all -Souls, is imperishable. Now, putting it as a mere supposition, and -for the sake of the argument, that you feel a certain admiration -for the Princess Ziska, an admiration which might possibly deepen -into something more than platonic, ... "--here Denzil Murray -looked up, his eyes glowing with an angry pain as he fixed them on -Gervase,--"why then the Soul of the other woman you once wronged -might come between you and the face of the new attraction and -cause you to unconsciously paint the tortured look of the injured -and unforgiving Spirit on the countenance of the lovely fascinator -whose charms are just beginning to ensnare you. I repeat, I have -known of such cases." And, unheeding the amazed and incredulous -looks of his listeners, the little Doctor folded both his short -arms across his chest, and hugged himself in the exquisite delight -of his own strange theories." The fact is, "he continued," you -cannot get rid of ghosts! They are all about us--everywhere! -Sometimes they take forms, sometimes they are content to remain -invisible. But they never fail to make their presence felt. Often -during the performance of some great piece of music they drift -between the air and the melody, making the sounds wilder and more -haunting, and freezing the blood of the listener with a vague -agony and chill. Sometimes they come between us and our friends, -mysteriously forbidding any further exchange of civilities or -sympathies, and occasionally they meet us alone and walk and talk -with us invisibly. Generally they mean well, but sometimes they -mean ill. And the only explanation I can offer you, Monsieur -Gervase, as to the present picture problem is that a ghost must -have come between you and your canvas!" - -Gervase laughed loudly. - -"My good friend, you are an adept in the art of pleading the -impossible! You must excuse me; I am a sceptic; and I hope I am -also in possession of my sober reason,--therefore, you can hardly -wonder at my entirely refusing to accept such preposterous -theories as those you appear to believe in." - -Dr. Dean gave him a civil little bow. - -"I do not ask you to accept them, my dear sir! I state my facts, -and you can take them or leave them, just as you please. You -yourself can offer no explanation of the singular way in which -this picture has been produced; I offer one which is perfectly -tenable with the discoveries of psychic science,--and you dismiss -it as preposterous. That being the case, I should recommend you to -cut up this canvas and try your hand again on the same subject." - -"Of course, I shall try again," retorted Gervase. "But I do not -think I shall destroy this first sketch. It is a curiosity in its -way; and it has a peculiar fascination for me. Do you notice how -thoroughly Egyptian the features are? They are the very contour of -some of the faces on the recently-discovered frescoes." - -"Oh, I noticed that at once," said the Doctor; "but that is not -remarkable, seeing that you yourself are quite of an Egyptian -type, though a Frenchman,--so much so, in fact, that many people -in this hotel have commented on it." - -Gervase said nothing, but slowly turned the canvas round with its -face to the wall. - -"You have seen enough of it, I suppose?" he inquired of Denzil -Murray. - -"More than enough!" - -Gervase smiled. - -"It ought to disenchant you," he said in a lower tone. - -"But it is a libel on her beauty,--it is not in the least like -her," returned Murray coldly. - -"Not in the very least? Are you sure? My dear Denzil, you know as -well as I do that there IS a likeness, combined with a dreadful -unlikeness; and it is that which troubles both of us. I assure -you, my good boy, I am as sorry for you as I am for myself,--for I -feel that this woman will be the death of one or both of us!" - -Denzil made no reply, and presently they all strolled out in the -garden and lit their cigars and cigarettes, with the exception of -Dr. Dean who never smoked and never drank anything stronger than -water. - -"I am going to get up a party for the Nile," he said as he turned -his sharp, ferret-like eyes upwards to the clear heavens; "and I -shall take the Princess into my confidence. In fact, I have -written to her about it to-day. I hear she has a magnificent -electric dahabeah, and if she will let us charter it. ..." - -"She won't," said Denzil hastily, "unless she goes with it -herself." - -"You seem to know a great deal about her," observed Dr. Dean -indulgently, "and why should she not go herself? She is evidently -well instructed in the ancient history of Egypt, and, as she reads -the hieroglyphs, she will be a delightful guide and a most -valuable assistant to me in my researches." - -"What researches are you engaged upon now?" inquired Courtney. - -"I am hunting down a man called Araxes," answered the Doctor. "He -lived, so far as I can make out, some four or five thousand years -ago, more or less; and I want to find out what he did and how he -died, and when I know how he died, then I mean to discover where -he is buried. If possible, I shall excavate him. I also want to -find the remains of Ziska-Charmazel, the lady impersonated by our -charming friend the Princess last night,--the dancer, who, it -appears from a recently-discovered fresco, occupied most of her -time in dancing before this same Araxes and making herself -generally agreeable to him." - -"What an odd fancy!" exclaimed Denzil. "How can a man and woman -dead five thousand years ago be of any interest to you?" - -"What interest has Rameses?" demanded the Doctor politely, "or any -of the Ptolemies? Araxes, like Rameses, may lead to fresh -discoveries in Egypt, for all we know. One name is as good as -another,--and each odoriferous mummy has its own mystery." - -They all came just then to a pause in their walk, Gervase stopping -to light a fresh cigarette. The rays of the rising moon fell upon -him as he stood, a tall and stately figure, against a background -of palms, and shone on his dark features with a touch of grayish- -green luminance that gave him for the moment an almost spectral -appearance. Dr. Dean glanced at him with a smile. - -"What a figure of an Egyptian, is he not!" he said to Courtney and -Denzil Murray. "Look at him! What height and symmetry! What a -world of ferocity in those black, slumbrous eyes! Yes, Monsieur -Gervase, I am talking about you. I am admiring you!" - -"Trop d'honneur!" murmured Gervase, carefully shielding with one -hand the match with which he was kindling his cigarette. - -"Yes," continued the Doctor, "I am admiring you. Being a little -man myself, I naturally like tall men, and as an investigator of -psychic forms I am immensely interested when I see a finely-made -body in which the soul lies torpid. That is why you unconsciously -compose for me a wonderful subject of study. I wonder now, how -long this torpidity in the psychic germ has lasted in you? It -commenced, of course, originally in protoplasm; but it must have -continued through various low forms and met with enormous -difficulties in attaining to individual consciousness as man,-- -because even now it is scarcely conscious." - -Gervase laughed. - -"Why, that beginning of the soul in protoplasm is part of a creed -which the Princess Ziska was trying to teach me to-day," he said -lightly. "It's all no use. I don't believe in the soul; if I did, -I should be a miserable man." - -"Why?" asked Murray. - -"Why? Because, my dear fellow, I should be rather afraid of my -future. I should not like to live again; I might have to remember -certain incidents which I would rather forget. There is your -charming sister, Mademoiselle Helen! I must go and talk to her,-- -her conversation always does me good; and after that picture which -I have been unfortunate enough to produce, her presence will be as -soothing as the freshness of morning after an unpleasant -nightmare." - -He moved away; Denzil Murray with Courtney followed him. Dr. Dean -remained behind, and presently sitting down in a retired corner of -the garden alone, he took out a small pocket-book and stylographic -pen and occupied himself for more than half an hour in busily -writing till he had covered two or three pages with his small, -neat caligraphy. - -"It is the most interesting problem I ever had the chance of -studying!" he murmured half aloud when he had finished, "Of -course, if my researches into the psychic spheres of action are -worth anything, it can only be one case out of thousands. -Thousands? Aye, perhaps millions! Great heavens! Among what -terrific unseen forces we live! And in exact proportion to every -man's arrogant denial of the 'Divinity that shapes our ends, so -will be measured out to him the revelation of the invisible. -Strange that the human race has never entirely realized as yet the -depth of meaning in the words describing hell: 'Where the worm -dieth not, and where the flame is never quenched. The 'worm' is -Retribution, the 'flame' is the immortal Spirit,--and the two are -forever striving to escape from the other. Horrible! And yet there -are men who believe in neither one thing nor the other, and reject -the Redemption that does away with both! God forgive us all our -sins,--and especially the sins of pride and presumption!" - -And with a shade of profound melancholy on his features, the -little Doctor put by his note-book, and, avoiding all the hotel -loungers on the terrace and elsewhere, retired to his own room and -went to bed. - - - - -CHAPTER X. - - -The next day when Armand Gervase went to call on the Princess -Ziska he was refused admittance. The Nubian attendant who kept -watch and ward at her gates, hearing the door-bell ring, contented -himself with thrusting his ugly head through an open upper window -and shouting-- - -"Madame est sortie!" - -"Ou donc?" called Gervase in answer. - -"A la campagne--le desert--les pyramides!" returned the Nubian, at -the same time banging the lattice to in order to prevent the -possibility of any further conversation. And Gervase, standing in -the street irresolutely for a moment, fancied he heard a peal of -malicious laughter in the distance. - -"Beast!" he muttered, "I must try him with a money bribe next time -I get hold of him. I wonder what I shall do with myself now?-- -haunted and brain-ridden as I am by this woman and her picture?" - -The hot sun glared in his eyes and made them ache,--the rough -stones of the narrow street were scorching to his feet. He began -to move slowly away with a curious faint sensation of giddiness -and sickness upon him, when the sound of music floating from the -direction of the Princess Ziska's palace brought him to a sudden -standstill. It was a strange, wild melody, played on some -instrument with seemingly muffled strings. A voice with a deep, -throbbing thrill of sweetness in it began to sing: - - Oh, for the passionless peace of the Lotus-Lily! - It floats in a waking dream on the waters chilly, - With its leaves unfurled - To the wondering world, - Knowing naught of the sorrow and restless pain - That burns and tortures the human brain; - Oh, for the passionless peace of the Lotus-Lily! - - Oh, for the pure cold heart of the Lotus-Lily! - Bared to the moon on the waters dark and chilly. - A star above - Is its only love, - And one brief sigh of its scented breath - Is all it will ever know of Death; - Oh, for the pure cold heart of the Lotus-Lily! - -When the song ceased, Gervase raised his eyes from the ground on -which he had fixed them in a kind of brooding stupor, and stared -at the burning blue of the sky as vaguely and wildly as a sick man -in the delirium of fever. - -"God! What ails me!" he muttered, supporting himself with one hand -against the black and crumbling wall near which he stood. "Why -should that melody steal away my strength and make me think of -things with which I have surely no connection! What tricks my -imagination plays me in this city of the Orient--I might as well -be hypnotized! What have I to do with dreams of war and triumph -and rapine and murder, and what is the name of Ziska-Charmazel to -me?" - -He shook himself with the action of a fine brute that has been -stung by some teasing insect, and, mastering his emotions by an -effort, walked away. But he was so absorbed in strange thoughts, -that he stumbled up against Denzil Murray in a side street on the -way to the Gezireh Palace Hotel without seeing him, and would have -passed him altogether had not Denzil somewhat fiercely said: - -"Stop!" - -Gervase looked at him bewilderedly. - -"Why, Denzil, is it you? My dear fellow, forgive me my brusquerie! -I believe I have got a stroke of the sun, or something of the -sort; I assure you I hardly know what I am doing or where I am -going!" - -"I believe it!" said Denzil, hoarsely. "You are as mad as I am-- -for love!" - -Gervase smiled; a slight incredulous smile. - -"You think so? I am not sure! If love makes a man as thoroughly -unstrung and nervous as I am to-day, then love is a very bad -illness." - -"It is the worst illness in the world," said Denzil, speaking -hurriedly and wildly. "The most cruel and torturing! And there is -no cure for it save death. My God, Gervase! You were my friend but -yesterday! I never should have thought it possible to hate you!" - -"Yet you do hate me?" queried Gervase, still smiling a little. - -"Hate you? I could kill you! You have been with HER!" - -Quietly Gervase took his arm. - -"My good Denzil, you are mistaken! I confess to you frankly I -should have been with HER--you mean the Princess Ziska, of course- --had it been possible. But she has fled the city for the moment-- -at least, according to the corpse-like Nubian who acts as porter." - -"He lies!" exclaimed Denzil, hotly. "I saw her this morning." - -"I hope you improved your opportunity," said Gervase, -imperturbably. "Anyway, at the present moment she is not visible." - -A silence fell between them for some minutes; then Denzil spoke -again. - -"Gervase, it is no use, I cannot stand this sort of thing. We must -have it out. What does it all mean?" - -"It is difficult to explain, my dear boy," answered Gervase, half -seriously, half mockingly. "It means, I presume, that we are both -in love with the same woman, and that we both intend to try our -chances with her. But, as I told you the other night, I do not see -why we should quarrel about it. Your intentions towards the -Princess are honorable--mine are dishonorable, and I shall make no -secret of them. If you win her, I shall ..." - -He paused, and there was a sudden look in his eyes which gave them -a sombre darkness, darker than their own natural color. - -"You shall--what?" asked Denzil. - -"Do something desperate," replied Gervase. "What the something -will be depends on the humor of the moment. A tiger balked of his -prey is not an agreeable beast; a strong man deprived of the woman -he passionately desires is a little less agreeable even than the -tiger. But let us adopt the policy of laissez-faire. Nothing is -decided; the fair one cares for neither of us; let us be friends -until she makes her choice." - -"We cannot be friends," said Denzil, sternly. - -"Good! Let us be foes then, but courteous, even in our quarrel, -dear boy. If we must kill each other, let us do it civilly. To fly -at each other's throats would be purely barbaric. We owe a certain -duty to civilization; things have progressed since the days of -Araxes." - -Denzil stared at him gloomily. - -"Araxes is Dr. Dean's fad," he said. "I don't know anything about -Egyptian mummies, and don't want to know. My matter is with the -present, and not with the past." - -They had reached the hotel by this time, and turned into the -gardens side by side. - -"You understand?" repeated Denzil. "We cannot be friends!" - -Gervase gave him a profoundly courteous salute, and the two -separated. - -Later on in the afternoon, about an hour before dinner-time, -Gervase, strolling on the terrace of the hotel alone, saw Helen -Murray seated at a little distance under some trees, with a book -in her hand which she was not reading. There were tears in her -eyes, but as he approached her she furtively dashed them away and -greeted him with a poor attempt at a smile. - -"You have a moment to spare me?" he asked, sitting down beside -her. - -She bent her head in acquiescence. - -"I am a very unhappy man, Mademoiselle Helen," he began, looking -at her with a certain compassionate tenderness as he spoke. "I -want your sympathy, but I know I do not deserve it." - -Helen remained silent. A faint flush crimsoned her cheeks, but her -eyes were veiled under the long lashes--she thought he could not -see them. - -"You remember," he went on, "our pleasant times in Scotland? Ah, -it is a restful place, your Highland home, with the beautiful -purple hills rolling away in the distance, and the glorious moors -covered with fragrant heather, and the gurgling of the river that -runs between birch and fir and willow, making music all day long -for those who have the ears to listen, and the hearts to -understand the pretty love tune it sings! You know Frenchmen -always have more or less sympathy with the Scotch--some old -association, perhaps, with the romantic times of Mary Queen of -Scots, when the light and changeful fancies of Chastelard and his -brother poets and lutists made havoc in the hearts of many a -Highland maiden. What is that bright drop on your hand, Helen?-- -are you crying?" He waited a moment, and his voice was softer and -more tremulous. "Dear girl, I am not worthy of tears. I am not -good enough for you." - -He gave her time to recover her momentary emotion and then went -on, still softly and tenderly: - -"Listen, Helen. I want you to believe me and forgive me, if you -can. I know--I remember those moonlight evenings in Scotland--holy -and happy evenings, as sweet as flower-scented pages in a young -girl's missal; yes, and I did not mean to play with you, Helen, or -wound your gentle heart. I almost loved you!" He spoke the words -passionately, and for a moment she raised her eyes and looked at -him in something of fear as well as sorrow. "'Yes,' I said to my -self, 'this woman, so true and pure and fair, is a bride for a -king; and if I can win her--if!' Ah, there my musings stopped. But -I came to Egypt chiefly to meet you again, knowing that you and -your brother were in Cairo. How was I to know, how was I to guess -that this horrible thing would happen?" - -Helen gazed at him wonderingly. - -"What horrible thing?" she asked, falteringly, the rich color -coming and going on her face, and her heart beating violently as -she put the question. - -His eyes flashed. - -"This," he answered. "The close and pernicious enthralment of a -woman I never met till the night before last; a woman whose face -haunts me; a woman who drags me to her side with the force of a -magnet, there to grovel like a brain-sick fool and plead with her -for a love which I already know is poison to my soul! Helen, -Helen! You do not understand--you will never understand! Here, in -the very air I breathe, I fancy I can trace the perfume she shakes -from her garments as she moves; something indescribably -fascinating yet terrible attracts me to her; it is an evil -attraction, I know, but I cannot resist it. There is something -wicked in every man's nature; I am conscious enough that there is -something detestably wicked in mine, and I have not sufficient -goodness to overbalance it. And this woman,--this silent, gliding, -glittering-eyed creature that has suddenly taken possession of my -fancy--she overcomes me in spite of myself; she makes havoc of all -the good intentions of my life. I admit it--I confess it!" - -"You are speaking of the Princess Ziska?" asked Helen, -tremblingly. - -"Of whom else should I speak?" he responded, dreamily. "There is -no one like her; probably there never was anyone like her, except, -perhaps, Ziska-Charmazel!" - -As the name passed his lips, he sprang hastily up and stood -amazed, as though some sudden voice had called him. Helen Murray -looked at him in alarm. - -"Oh, what is it?" she exclaimed. - -He forced a laugh. - -"Nothing--nothing--but a madness! I suppose it is all a part of my -strange malady. Your brother is stricken with the same fever. -Surely you know that?" - -"Indeed I do know it," Helen answered, "to my sorrow!" - -He regarded her intently. Her face in its pure outline and quiet -sadness of expression touched him more than he cared to own even -to himself. - -"My dear Helen," he said, with an effort at composure, "I have -been talking wildly; you must forgive me! Don't think about me at -all; I am not worth it! Denzil has taken it into his head to -quarrel with me on account of the Princess Ziska, but I assure you -I will not quarrel with him. He is infatuated, and so am I. The -best thing for all of us to do would be to leave Egypt instantly; -I feel that instinctively, only we cannot do it. Something holds -us here. You will never persuade Denzil to go, and I--I cannot -persuade myself to go. There is a clinging sweetness in the air -for me; and there are vague suggestions, memories, dreams, -histories--wonderful things which hold me spell-bound! I wish I -could analyze them, recognize them, or understand them. But I -cannot, and there, perhaps, is their secret charm. Only one thing -grieves me, and that is, that I have, perhaps, unwittingly, in -some thoughtless way, given you pain; is it so, Helen?" - -She rose quickly, and with a quiet dignity held out her hand. - -"No, Monsieur Gervase," she said, "it is not so. I am not one of -those women who take every little idle word said by men in jest au -grand serieux! You have always been a kind and courteous friend, -and if you ever fancied you had a warmer feeling for me, as you -say, I am sure you were mistaken. We often delude ourselves in -these matters. I wish, for your sake, I could think the Princess -Ziska worthy of the love she so readily inspires. But,--I cannot! -My brother's infatuation for her is to me terrible. I feel it will -break his heart,--and mine!" A little half sob caught her breath -and interrupted her; she paused, but presently went on with an -effort at calmness: "You talk of our leaving Egypt; how I wish -that were possible! But I spoke to Denzil about it on the night of -the ball, and he was furious with me for the mere suggestion. It -seems like an evil fate." - -"It IS an evil fate," said Gervase gloomily. "Enfin, my dear -Helen, we cannot escape from it,--at least, _I_ cannot. But I -never was intended for good things, not even for a lasting love. A -lasting love I feel would bore me. You look amazed; you believe in -lasting love? So do many sweet women. But do you know what symbol -I, as an artist, would employ were I asked to give my idea of Love -on my canvas?" - -Helen smiled sadly and shook her head. - -"I would paint a glowing flame," said Gervase dreamily. "A flame -leaping up from the pit of hell to the height of heaven, springing -in darkness, lost in light; and flying into the centre of that -flame should be a white moth--a blind, soft, mad thing with -beating, tremulous wings,--that should be Love! Whirled into the -very heart of the ravening fire,--crushed, shrivelled out of -existence in one wild, rushing rapture--that is what Love must be -to me! One cannot prolong passion over fifty years, more or less, -of commonplace routine, as marriage would have us do. The very -notion is absurd. Love is like a choice wine of exquisite bouquet -and intoxicating flavor; it is the most maddening draught in the -world, but you cannot drink it every day. No, my dear Helen; I am -not made for a quiet life,--nor for a long one, I fancy." - -His voice unconsciously sank into a melancholy tone, and for one -moment Helen's composure nearly gave way. She loved him as true -women love, with that sublime self-sacrifice which only desires -the happiness of the thing beloved; yet a kind of insensate rage -stirred for once in her gentle soul to think that the mere sight -of a strange woman with dark eyes,--a woman whom no one knew -anything about, and who was by some people deemed a mere -adventuress,--should have so overwhelmed this man whose genius she -had deemed superior to fleeting impressions. Controlling the tears -that rose to her eyes and threatened to fall, she said gently, - -"Good-bye, Monsieur Gervase!" - -He started as from a reverie. - -"Good-bye, Helen! Some day you will think kindly of me again?" - -"I think kindly of you now," she answered tremulously; then, not -trusting herself to say any more, she turned swiftly and left him. - -"The flame and the moth!" he mused, watching her slight figure -till it had disappeared. "Yes, it is the only fitting symbol. Love -must be always so. Sudden, impetuous, ungovernable, and then--the -end! To stretch out the divine passion over life-long breakfasts -and dinners! It would be intolerable to me. Lord Fulkeward could -do that sort of thing; his chest is narrow, and his sentiments are -as limited as his chest. He would duly kiss his wife every morning -and evening, and he would not analyze the fact that no special -thrill of joy stirred in him at the action. What should he do with -thrills of joy--this poor Fulkeward? And yet it is likely he will -marry Helen. Or will it be the Courtney animal,--the type of man -whose one idea is 'to arise, kill, and eat?' "Ah, well!" and he -sighed. "She is not for me, this maiden grace of womanhood. If I -married her, I should make her miserable. I am made for passion, -not for peace." - -He started as he heard a step behind him, and turning, saw Dr. -Dean. The worthy little savant looked worried and preoccupied. - -"I have had a letter from the Princess Ziska," he said, without -any preliminary. "She has gone to secures rooms at the Mena House -Hotel, which is situated close to the Pyramids. She regrets she -cannot enter into the idea of taking a trip up the Nile. She has -no time, she says, as she is soon leaving Cairo. But she suggests -that we should make up a party for the Mena House while she is -staying there, as she can, so she tells me, make the Pyramids much -more interesting for us by her intimate knowledge of them. Now, to -me this is a very tempting offer, but I should not care to go -alone." - -"The Murrays will go, I am sure," murmured Gervase lazily. "At any -rate, Denzil will." - -The Doctor looked at him narrowly. - -"If Denzil goes, so will you go," he said. "Thus there are two -already booked for company. And I fancy the Fulkewards might like -the idea." - -"The Princess is leaving Cairo?" queried Gervase presently, as -though it were an after thought. - -"So she informs me in her letter. The party which is to come off -on Wednesday night is her last reception." - -Gervase was silent a moment. Then he said: - -"Have you told Denzil?" - -"Not yet." - -"Better do so then," and Gervase glanced up at the sky, now -glowing red with a fiery sunset. "He wants to propose, you know." - -"Good God!" cried the Doctor, sharply, "If he proposes to that -woman. ..." - -"Why should he not?" demanded Gervase. "Is she not as ripe for -love and fit for marriage as any other of her sex?" - -"Her sex!" echoed the Doctor grimly. "Her sex!--There!--for -heaven's sake don't talk to me!--leave me alone! The Princess -Ziska is like no woman living; she has none of the sentiments of a -woman,--and the notion of Denzil's being such a fool as to think -of proposing to her--Oh, leave me alone, I tell you! Let me worry -this out!" - -And clapping his hat well down over his eyes, he began to walk -away in a strange condition of excitement, which he evidently had -some difficulty in suppressing. Suddenly, however, he turned, came -back and tapped Gervase smartly on the chest. - -"YOU are the man for the Princess," he said impressively. "There -is a madness in you which you call love for her; you are her -fitting mate, not that poor boy, Denzil Murray. In certain men and -women spirit leaps to spirit,--note responds to note--and if all -the world were to interpose its trumpery bulk, nothing could -prevent such tumultuous forces rushing together. Follow your -destiny, Monsieur Gervase, but do not ruin another man's life on -the way. Follow your destiny,--complete it,--you are bound to do -so,--but in the havoc and wildness to come, for God's sake, let -the innocent go free!" - -He spoke with extraordinary solemnity, and Gervase stared at him -in utter bewilderment and perplexity, not understanding in the -least what he meant. But before he could interpose a word or ask a -question, Dr. Dean had gone. - - - - -CHAPTER XI. - - -The next two or three days passed without any incident of interest -occurring to move the languid calm and excite the fleeting -interest of the fashionable English and European visitors who were -congregated at the Gezireh Palace Hotel. The anxious flirtations -of Dolly and Muriel Chetwynd Lyle afforded subjects of mirth to -the profane,--the wonderfully youthful toilettes of Lady Fulkeward -provided several keynotes from which to strike frivolous -conversation,--and when the great painter, Armand Gervase, -actually made a sketch of her ladyship for his own amusement, and -made her look about sixteen, and girlish at that, his popularity -knew no bounds. Everyone wanted to give him a commission, -particularly the elderly fair, and he could have made a fortune -had he chosen, after the example set him by the English -academicians, by painting the portraits of ugly nobodies who were -ready to pay any price to be turned out as handsome somebodies. -But he was too restless and ill at ease to apply himself steadily -to work,--the glowing skies of Egypt, the picturesque groups of -natives to be seen at every turn,--the curious corners of old -Cairo--these made no impression upon his mind at all, and when he -was alone, he passed whole half hours staring at the strange -picture he had made of the Princess Ziska, wherein the face of -death seemed confronting him through a mask of life. And he -welcomed with a strong sense of relief and expectation the long- -looked-for evening of the Princess's "reception," to which many of -the visitors in Cairo had been invited since a fortnight, and -which those persons who always profess to be "in the know," even -if they are wallowing in ignorance, declared would surpass any -entertainment ever given during the Cairene season. - -The night came at last. It was exceedingly sultry, but bright and -clear, and the moon shone with effective brilliance on the gayly- -attired groups of people that between nine and ten o'clock began -to throng the narrow street in which the carved tomb-like portal -of the Princess Ziska's residence was the most conspicuous object. -Lady Chetwynd Lyle, remarkable for bad taste in her dress and the -disposal of her diamonds, stared in haughty amazement at the -Nubian, who saluted her and her daughters with the grin peculiar -to his uninviting cast of countenance, and swept into the -courtyard attended by her husband with an air as though she -imagined her presence gave the necessary flavor of "good style" to -the proceedings. She was followed by Lady Fulkeward, innocently -clad in white and wearing a knot of lilies on her prettily- -enamelled left shoulder, Lord Fulkeward, Denzil Murray and his -sister. Helen also wore white, but though she was in the twenties -and Lady Fulkeward was in the sixties, the girl had so much -sadness in her face and so much tragedy in her soft eyes that she -looked, if anything, older than the old woman. Gervase and Dr. -Dean arrived together, and found themselves in a brilliant, -crushing crowd of people, all of different nationalities and all -manifesting a good deal of impatience because they were delayed a -few minutes in an open court, where a couple of stone lions with -wings were the only spectators of their costumes. - -"Most singular behavior!" said Lady Chetwynd Lyle, snorting and -sniffing, "to keep us waiting outside like this! The Princess has -no idea of European manners!" - -As she spoke, a sudden blaze of light flamed on the scene, and -twenty tall Egyptian servants in white, with red turbans, carrying -lighted torches and marching two by two crossed the court, and by -mute yet stately gestures invited the company to follow. And the -company did follow in haste, with scramble and rudeness, as is the -way of "European manners" nowadays; and presently, having been -relieved of their cloaks and wrappings, stood startled and -confounded in a huge hall richly adorned with silk and cloth of -gold hangings, where, between two bronze sphinxes, the Princess -Ziska, attired wonderfully in a dim, pale rose color, with flecks -of jewels flashing from her draperies here and there, waited to -receive her guests. Like a queen she stood,--behind her towered a -giant palm, and at her feet were strewn roses and lotus-lilies. On -either side of her, seated on the ground, were young girls -gorgeously clad and veiled to the eyes in the Egyptian fashion, -and as the staring, heated and impetuous swarm of "travelling" -English and Americans came face to face with her in her marvellous -beauty, they were for the moment stricken spellbound, and could -scarcely summon up the necessary assurance to advance and take the -hand she outstretched to them in welcome. She appeared not to see -the general embarrassment, and greeted all who approached her with -courteous ease and composure, speaking the few words which every -graceful hostess deems adequate before "passing on" her visitors. -And presently music began,--music wild and fantastic, of a -character unknown to modern fashionable ears, yet strangely -familiar to Armand Gervase, who started at the first sound of it, -and seemed enthralled. - -"That is not an ordinary orchestra," said Dr. Dean in his ear. -"The instruments are ancient, and the form of melody is barbaric." - -Gervase answered nothing, for the Princess Ziska just then -approached them. - -"Come into the Red Saloon," she said. "I am persuading my guests -to pass on there. I have an old bas-relief on the walls which I -would like you to see,--you, especially, Dr. Dean!--for you are so -learned in antiquities. I hear you are trying to discover traces -of Araxes?" - -"I am," replied the Doctor. "You interested me very much in his -history." - -"He was a great man," said the Princess, slowly piloting them as -she spoke, without hurry and with careful courtesy, through the -serried ranks of the now freely chattering and animated company. -"Much greater than any of your modern heroes. But he had two -faults; faults which frequently accompany the plentitude of -power,--cruelty and selfishness. He betrayed and murdered the only -woman that ever loved him, Ziska-Charmazel." - -"Murdered her!" exclaimed Dr. Dean. "How?" - -"Oh, it is only a legend!" and the Princess smiled, turning her -dark eyes with a bewitching languor on Gervase, who, for some -reason or other which he could not explain, felt as if he were -walking in a dream on the edge of a deep chasm of nothingness, -into which he must presently sink to utter destruction. "All these -old histories happened so long ago that they are nothing but myths -now to the present generation." - -"Time does not rob any incident of its interest to me," said Dr. -Dean. "Ages hence Queen Victoria will be as much a doubtful -potentate as King Lud. To the wise student of things there is no -time and no distance. All history from the very beginning is like -a wonderful chain in which no link is ever really broken, and in -which every part fits closely to the other part,--though why the -chain should exist at all is a mystery we cannot solve. Yet I am -quite certain that even our late friend Araxes has his connection -with the present, if only for the reason that he lived in the -past." - -"How do you argue out that theory!" asked Gervase with sudden -interest. - -"How do you argue it? The question is, how can you argue at all -about anything that is so plain and demonstrated a fact? The -doctrine of evolution proves it. Everything that we were once has -its part in us now. Suppose, if you like, that we were originally -no more than shells on the shore,--some remnant of the nature of -the shell must be in us at this moment. Nothing is lost,--nothing -is wasted,--not even a thought. I carry my theories very far," -pursued the Doctor, looking keenly from one to the other of his -silent companions as they walked beside him through a long -corridor towards the Red Saloon, which could be seen, brilliantly -lit up and thronged with people. "Very far indeed, especially in -regard to matters of love. I maintain that if it is decreed that -the soul of a man and the soul of a woman must meet,--must rush -together,--not all the forces of the universe can hinder them; -aye, even if they were, for some conventional cause or -circumstance themselves reluctant to consummate their destiny, it -would nevertheless, despite them, be consummated. For mark you,-- -in some form or other they have rushed together before! Whether as -flames in the air, or twining leaves on a tree, or flowers in a -field, they have felt the sweetness and fitness of each other's -being in former lives,--and the craving sense of that sweetness -and fitness can never be done away with,--never! Not as long as -this present universe lasts! It is a terrible thing," continued -the Doctor in a lower tone, "a terrible fatality,--the desire of -love. In some cases it is a curse; in others, a divine and -priceless blessing. The results depend entirely on the -temperaments of the human creatures possessed by its fever. When -it kindles, rises and burns towards Heaven in a steady flame of -ever-brightening purity and faith, then it makes marriage the most -perfect union on earth,--the sweetest and most blessed -companionship; but when it is a mere gust of fire, bright and -fierce as the sudden leaping light of a volcano, then it withers -everything at a touch,--faith, honor, truth,--and dies into dull -ashes in which no spark remains to warm or inspire man's higher -nature. Better death than such a love,--for it works misery on -earth; but who can tell what horrors it may not create Hereafter!" - -The Princess looked at him with a strange, weird gleam in her dark -eyes. - -"You are right," she said. "It is just the Hereafter that men -never think of. I am glad you, at least, acknowledge the truth of -the life beyond death." - -"I am bound to acknowledge it," returned the Doctor; "inasmuch as -I know it exists." - -Gervase glanced at him with a smile, in which there was something -of contempt. - -"You are very much behind the age, Doctor," he remarked lightly. - -"Very much behind indeed," agreed Dr. Dean composedly. "The age -rushes on too rapidly for me, and gives no time to the -consideration of things by the way. I stop,--I take breathing -space in which to think; life without thought is madness, and I -desire to have no part in a mad age." - -At that moment they entered the Red Saloon, a stately apartment, -which was entirely modelled after the most ancient forms of -Egyptian architecture. The centre of the vast room was quite clear -of furniture, so that the Princess Ziska's guests went wandering -up and down, to and fro, entirely at their ease, without crush or -inconvenience, and congregated in corners for conversation; though -if they chose they could recline on low divans and gorgeously- -cushioned benches ranged against the walls and sheltered by tall -palms and flowering exotics. The music was heard to better -advantage here than in the hall where the company had first been -received; and as the Princess moved to a seat under the pale green -frondage of a huge tropical fern and bade her two companions sit -beside her, sounds of the wildest, most melancholy and haunting -character began to palpitate upon the air in the mournful, -throbbing fashion in which a nightingale sings when its soul is -burdened with love. The passionate tremor that shakes the bird's -throat at mating-time seemed to shake the unseen instruments that -now discoursed strange melody, and Gervase, listening dreamily, -felt a curious contraction and aching at his heart and a sense of -suffocation in his throat, combined with an insatiate desire to -seize in his arms the mysterious Ziska, with her dark fathomless -eyes and slight, yet voluptuous, form,--to drag her to his breast -and crush her there, whispering: - -"Mine!--mine! By all the gods of the past and present--mine! Who -shall tear her from me,--who dispute my right to love her--ruin -her--murder her, if I choose? She is mine!" - -"The bas-relief I told you of is just above us," said the Princess -then, addressing herself to the Doctor; "would you like to examine -it? One of the servants shall bring you a lighted taper, and by -passing it in front of the sculpture you will be able to see the -design better. Ah, Mr. Murray!" and she smiled as she greeted -Denzil, who just then approached. "You are in time to give us your -opinion. I want Dr. Dean to see that very old piece of stone -carving on the wall above us,--it will serve as a link for him in -the history of Araxes." - -"Indeed!" murmured Denzil, somewhat abstractedly. - -The Princess glanced at his brooding face and laughed. - -"You, I know, are not interested at all in old history," she went -on. "The past has no attraction for you." - -"No. The present is enough," he replied, with a glance of mingled -hope and passion. - -She smiled, and signing to one of her Egyptian attendants, bade -him bring a lighted taper. He did so, and passed it slowly up and -down and to the right and left of the large piece of ancient -sculpture that occupied more than half the wall, while Dr. Dean -stood by, spectacles on nose, to examine the carving as closely as -possible. Several other people, attracted by what was going on, -paused to look also, and the Princess undertook to explain the -scene depicted. - -"This piece of carving is of the date of the King Amenhotep or -Amenophis III., of the Eighteenth Dynasty. It represents the -return of the warrior Araxes, a favorite servant of the king's, -after some brilliant victory. You see, there is the triumphal car -in which he rides, drawn by winged horses, and behind him are the -solar deities--Ra, Sikar, Tmu, and Osiris. He is supposed to be -approaching his palace in triumph; the gates are thrown open to -receive him, and coming out to meet him is the chief favorite of -his harem, the celebrated dancer of that period--Ziska-Charmazel." - -"Whom he afterwards murdered, you say?" queried Dr. Dean -meditatively. - -"Yes. He murdered her simply because she loved him too well and -was in the way of his ambition. There was nothing astonishing in -his behavior, not even if you consider it in the light of modern -times. Men always murder--morally, if not physically--the women -who love them too well." - -"You truly think that?" asked Denzil Murray in a low tone. - -"I not only truly think it, I truly know it!" she answered, with a -disdainful flash of her eyes. "Of course, I speak of strong men -with strong passions; they are the only kind of men women ever -worship. Of course, a weak, good-natured man is different; he -would probably not harm a woman for the world, or give her the -least cause for pain if he could help it, but that sort of man -never becomes either an adept or a master in love. Araxes was -probably both. No doubt he considered he had a perfect right to -slay what he had grown weary of; he thought no more than men of -his type think to-day, that the taking of a life demands a life in -exchange, if not in this world, then in the next." - -The group of people near her were all silent, gazing with an odd -fascination at the quaint and ancient-sculptured figures above -them, when all at once Dr. Dean, taking the taper from the hands -of the Egyptian servant, held the flame close to the features of -the warrior riding in the car of triumph, and said slowly: - -"Do you not see a curious resemblance, Princess, between this -Araxes and a friend of ours here present? Monsieur Armand Gervase, -will you kindly step forward? Yes, that will do, turn your head -slightly,--so! Yes! Now observe the outline of the features of -Araxes as carven in this sculpture thousands of years ago, and -compare it with the outline of the features of our celebrated -friend, the greatest French artist of his day. Am I the only one -who perceives the remarkable similarity of contour and -expression?" - -The Princess made no reply. A smile crossed her lips, but no word -escaped them. Several persons, however, pressed eagerly forward to -look at and comment upon what was indeed a startling likeness. The -same straight, fierce brows, the same proud, firm mouth, the same -almond-shaped eyes were, as it seemed, copied from the ancient -entablature and repeated in flesh and blood in the features of -Gervase. Even Denzil Murray, absorbed though he was in conflicting -thoughts of his own, was struck by the coincidence. - -"It is really very remarkable!" he said. "Allowing for the -peculiar style of drawing and design common to ancient Egypt, the -portrait of Araxes might pass for Gervase in Egyptian costume." - -Gervase himself was silent. Some mysterious emotion held him mute, -and he was only aware of a vague irritation that fretted him -without any seemingly adequate cause. Dr. Dean meanwhile pursued -his investigations with the lighted taper, and presently, turning -round on the assembled little group of bystanders, he said: - -"I have just discovered another singular thing. The face of the -woman here--the dancer and favorite--is the face of our charming -hostess, the Princess Ziska!" - -Exclamations of wonder greeted this announcement, and everybody -craned their necks to see. And then the Princess spoke, slowly and -languidly. - -"Yes," she murmured, "I was hoping you would perceive that. I -myself noticed how very like me is the famous Ziska-Charmazel, and -that is just why I dressed in her fashion for the fancy ball the -other evening. It seemed to me the best thing to do, as I wanted -to choose an ancient period, and then, you know, I bear half her -name." - -Dr. Dean looked at her keenly, and a somewhat grim smile wrinkled -his lips. - -"You could not have done better," he declared. "You and the -dancing-girl of Araxes might be twin sisters." - -He lowered the taper he held that it might more strongly illumine -her face, and as the outline of her head and throat and bust was -thrown into full relief, Gervase, staring at her, was again -conscious of that sudden, painful emotion of familiarity which had -before overwhelmed him, and he felt that in all the world he had -no such intimate knowledge of any woman as he had of Ziska. He -knew her! Ah!--how did he NOT know her? Every curve of that pliant -form was to him the living memory of something once possessed and -loved, and he pressed his hand heavily across his eyes for a -moment to shut out the sight of all the exquisite voluptuous grace -which shook his self-control and tempted him almost beyond man's -mortal endurance. - -"Are you not well, Monsieur Gervase?" said Dr. Dean, observing him -closely, and handing back the lighted taper to the Egyptian -servant who waited to receive it. "The portraits on this old -carving have perhaps affected you unpleasantly? Yet there is -really nothing of importance in such a coincidence." - -"Nothing of importance, perhaps, but surely something of -singularity," interrupted Denzil Murray, "especially in the -resemblance between the Princess and the dancing-girl of that -ancient period,--their features are positively line for line -alike." - -The Princess laughed. - -"Yes, is it not curious?" she said, and, taking the taper from her -servant, she sprang lightly on one of the benches near the wall -and leaned her beautiful head on the entablature, so that her -profile stood out close against that of the once reputed Ziska- -Charmazel. "We are, as Dr. Dean says, twins!" - -Several of the guests had now gathered together in that particular -part of the room, and they all looked up at her as she stood thus, -in silent and somewhat superstitious wonderment. The fascinating -dancer, famed in ages past, and the lovely, living charmeresse of -the present were the image of each other, and so extraordinary was -the resemblance that it was almost what some folks would term -"uncanny." The fair Ziska did not, however, give her acquaintances -time for much meditation or surprise concerning the matter, for -she soon came down from her elevation near the sculptured frieze -and, extinguishing the taper she held, she said lightly: - -"As Dr. Dean has remarked, there is really nothing of importance -in the coincidence. Ages ago, in the time of Araxes, roses must -have bloomed; and who shall say that a rose in to-day's garden is -not precisely the same in size, scent and color as one that Araxes -himself plucked at his palace gates? Thus, if flowers are born -alike in different ages, why not women and men?" - -"Very well argued, Princess," said the Doctor. "I quite agree with -you. Nature is bound to repeat some of her choicest patterns, lest -she should forget the art of making them." - -There was now a general movement among the guests, that particular -kind of movement which means irritability and restlessness, and -implies that either supper must be immediately served, or else -some novel entertainment be brought in to distract attention and -prevent tedium. The Princess, turning to Gervase, said smilingly: - -"Apropos of the dancing-girl of Araxes and the art of dancing -generally, I am going to entertain the company presently by -letting them see a real old dance of Thebes. If you will excuse me -a moment I must just prepare them and get the rooms slightly -cleared. I will return to you presently." - -She glided away with her usual noiseless grace, and within a few -minutes of her departure the gay crowds began to fall back against -the walls and disperse themselves generally in expectant groups -here and there, the Egyptian servants moving in and out and -evidently informing them of the entertainment in prospect. - -"Well, I shall stay here," said Dr. Dean, "underneath this -remarkable stone carving of your warrior-prototype, Monsieur -Gervase. You seem very much abstracted. I asked you before if you -were not well; but you never answered me." - -"I am perfectly well," replied Gervase, with some irritation. "The -heat is rather trying, that is all. But I attach no importance to -that stone frieze. One can easily imagine likenesses where there -are really none." - -"True!" and the Doctor smiled to himself, and said no more. Just -then a wild burst of music sounded suddenly through the apartment, -and he turned round in lively anticipation to watch the -proceedings. - -The middle of the room was now quite clear, and presently, moving -with the silent grace of swans on still water, came four girls -closely veiled, carrying quaintly-shaped harps and lutes. A Nubian -servant followed them, and spread a gold-embroidered carpet upon -the ground, whereon they all sat down and began to thrum the -strings of their instruments in a muffled, dreamy manner, playing -a music which had nothing of melody in it, and which yet vaguely -suggested a passionate tune. This thrumming went on for some time -when all at once from a side entrance in the hall a bright, -apparently winged thing bounded from the outer darkness into the -centre of the hall,--a woman clad in glistening cloth of gold and -veiled entirely in misty folds of white, who, raising her arms -gleaming with jewelled bangles high above her head, remained -poised on tiptoe for a moment, as though about to fly. Her bare -feet, white and dimpled, sparkled with gems and glittering -anklets; her skirts as she moved showed fluttering flecks of white -and pink like the leaves of May-blossoms shaken by a summer -breeze; the music grew louder and wilder, and a brazen clang from -unseen cymbals prepared her as it seemed for flight. She began her -dance slowly, gliding mysteriously from side to side, anon turning -suddenly with her head lifted, as though listening for some word -of love which should recall her or command; then, bending down -again, she seemed to float lazily like a creature that was dancing -in a dream without conscious knowledge of her actions. The brazen -cymbals clashed again, and then, with a wild, beautiful movement, -like that of a hunted stag leaping the brow of a hill, the dancer -sprang forward, turned, pirouetted and tossed herself round and -round giddily with a marvellous and exquisite celerity, as if she -were nothing but a bright circle of gold spinning in clear ether. -Spontaneous applause broke forth from every part of the hall; the -guests crowded forward, staring and almost breathless with -amazement. Dr. Dean got up in a state of the greatest excitement, -clapping his hands involuntarily; and Gervase, every nerve in his -body quivering, advanced one or two steps, feeling that he must -stop this bright, wild, wanton thing in her incessant whirling, or -else die in the hunger of love which consumed his soul. Denzil -Murray glanced at him, and, after a pause, left his side and -disappeared. Suddenly, with a quick movement, the dancer loosened -her golden dress and misty veil, and tossing them aside like -falling leaves, she stood confessed--a marvellous, glowing vision -in silvery white-no other than the Princess Ziska! - -Shouts echoed from every part of the hall: - -"Ziska! Ziska!" - -And at the name Lady Chetwynd Lyle rose in all her majesty from -the seat she had occupied till then, and in tones of virtuous -indignation said to Lady Fulkeward: - -"I told you the Princess was not a proper person! Now it is proved -I am right! To think I should have brought Dolly and Muriel here! -I shall really never forgive myself! Come, Sir Chetwynd,--let us -leave this place instantly!" - -And stout Sir Chetwynd, gloating on the exquisite beauty of the -Princess Ziska's form as she still danced on in her snowy white -attire, her lovely face alight with mirth at the surprise she had -made for her guests, tried his best to look sanctimonious and -signally failed in the attempt as he answered: - -"Certainly! Certainly, my dear! Most improper ... most -astonishing!" - -While Lady Fulkeward answered innocently: - -"Is it? Do you really think so? Oh, dear! I suppose it is -improper,--it must be, you know; but it is most delightful and -original!" - -And while the Chetwynd Lyles thus moved to depart in a cloud of -outraged propriety, followed by others who likewise thought it -well to pretend to be shocked at the proceeding, Gervase, dizzy, -breathless, and torn by such conflicting passions as he could -never express, was in a condition more mad than sane. - -"My God!" he muttered under his breath. "This--this is love! This -is the beginning and end of life! To possess her,--to hold her in -my arms--heart to heart, lips to lips ... this is what all the -eternal forces of Nature meant when they made me man!" - -And he watched with strained, passionate eyes the movements of the -Princess Ziska as they grew slower and slower, till she seemed -floating merely like a foam-bell on a wave, and then ... from some -unseen quarter of the room a rich throbbing voice began to sing:-- - - "Oh, for the passionless peace of the Lotus-Lily! - It floats in a waking dream on the waters chilly, - With its leaves unfurled - To the wondering world, - Knowing naught of the sorrow and restless pain - That burns and tortures the human brain; - Oh, for the passionless peace of the Lotus-Lily! - Oh, for the pure cold heart of the Lotus-Lily! - Bared to the moon on the waters dark and chilly. - A star above - Is its only love, - And one brief sigh of its scented breath - Is all it will ever know of Death; - Oh, for the pure cold heart of the Lotus-Lily!" - -As the sound died away in a sigh rather than a note, the Princess -Ziska's dancing ceased altogether. A shout of applause broke from -all assembled, and in the midst of it there was a sudden commotion -and excitement, and Dr. Dean was seen bending over a man's -prostrate figure. The great French painter, Armand Gervase, had -suddenly fainted. - - - - -CHAPTER XII. - - -A curious yet very general feeling of superstitious uneasiness and -discomfort pervaded the Gezireh Palace Hotel the day after the -Princess Ziska's reception. Something had happened, and no one -knew what. The proprieties had been outraged, but no one knew why. -It was certainly not the custom for a hostess, and a Princess to -boot, to dance like a wild bacchante before a crowd of her invited -guests, yet, as Dr. Dean blandly observed,-- - -"Where was the harm? In London, ladies of good birth and breeding -went in for 'skirt-dancing,' and no one presumed to breathe a word -against their reputations; why in Cairo should not a lady go in -for a Theban dance without being considered improper?" - -Why, indeed? There seemed no adequate reason for being either -surprised or offended; yet surprised and offended most people -were, and scandal ran rife, and rumor wagged all its poisonous -tongues to spread evil reports against the Princess Ziska's name -and fame, till Denzil Murray, maddened and furious, rushed up to -his sister in her room and swore that he would marry the Princess -if he died for it. - -"They are blackguarding her downstairs, the beasts!" he said -hotly. "They are calling her by every bad name under the sun! But -I will make everything straight for her; she shall be my wife! If -she will have me, I will marry her to-morrow!" - -Helen looked at him in speechless despair. - -"Oh, Denzil!" she faltered, and then could say no more, for the -tears that blinded her eyes. - -"Oh, yes, of course, I know what you mean!" he continued, marching -up and down the room excitedly. "You are like all the others; you -think her an adventuress. I think her the purest, the noblest of -women! There is where we differ. I spoke to her last night,--I -told her I loved her." - -"You did?" and Helen gazed at him with wet, tragic eyes,--"And she -..." - -"She bade me be silent. She told me I must not speak--not yet. She -said she would give me her answer when we were all together at the -Mena House Hotel." - -"You intend to be one of the party there then?" said Helen -faintly. - -"Of course I do. And so do you, I hope." - -"No, Denzil, I cannot. Don't ask me. I will stay here with Lady -Fulkeward. She is not going, nor are the Chetwynd Lyles. I shall -be quite safe with them. I would rather not go to the Mena House,- --I could not bear it ..." - -Her voice gave way entirely, and she broke out crying bitterly. - -Denzil stood still and regarded her with a kind of sullen shame -and remorse. - -"What a very sympathetic sister you are!" he observed. "When you -see me madly in love with a woman--a perfectly beautiful, adorable -woman--you put yourself at once in the way and make out that my -marriage with her will be a misery to you. You surely do not -expect me to remain single all my life, do you?" - -"No, Denzil," sobbed Helen, "but I had hoped to see you marry some -sweet girl of our own land who would be your dear and true -companion,--who would be a sister to me,--who ... there! don't -mind me! Be happy in your own way, my dear brother. I have no -business to interfere. I can only say that if the Princess Ziska -consents to marry you, I will do my best to like her, for your -sake." - -"Well, that's something, at any rate," said Denzil, with an air of -relief. "Don't cry, Helen, it bothers me. As for the 'sweet girl' -you have got in view for me, you will permit me to say that 'sweet -girls' are becoming uncommonly scarce in Britain. What with -bicycle riders and great rough tomboys generally, with large hands -and larger feet, I confess I do not care about them. I like a -womanly woman,--a graceful woman,--a fascinating, bewitching -woman, and the Princess is all that and more. Surely you consider -her beautiful?" - -"Very beautiful indeed!" sighed poor Helen.--"Too beautiful!" - -"Nonsense! As if any woman can be too beautiful! I am sorry you -won't come to the Mena House. It would be a change for you,--and -Gervase is going." - -"Is he better to-day?" inquired Helen timidly. - -"Oh, I believe he is quite well again. It was the heat or the -scent of the flowers, or something of that sort, that made him -faint last night. He is not acclimatized yet, you know. And he -said that the Princess's dancing made him giddy." - -"I don't wonder at that," murmured Helen. - -"It was marvellous--glorious!" said Denzil dreamily. "It was like -nothing else ever seen or imagined!" - -"If she were your wife, would you care for her to dance before -people?" inquired Helen tremblingly. - -Denzil turned upon her in haughty wrath. - -"How like a woman that is! To insinuate a nasty suggestion--to -imply an innuendo without uttering it! If she were my wife, she -would do nothing unbecoming that position." - -"Then you did think it a little unbecoming?" persisted Helen. - -"No, I did NOT!" said Denzil sharply. "An independent woman may do -many things that a married woman may not. Marriage brings its own -duties and responsibilities,--time enough to consider them when -they come." - -He turned angrily on his heel and left her, and Helen, burying her -fair face in her hands, wept long and unrestrainedly. This -"strange woman out of Egypt" had turned her brother's heart -against her, and stolen away her almost declared lover. It was no -wonder that her tears fell fast, wrung from her with the pain of -this double wound; for Helen, though quiet and undemonstrative, -had fine feelings and unsounded depths of passion in her nature, -and the fatal attraction she felt for Armand Gervase was more -powerful than she had herself known. Now that he had openly -confessed his infatuation for another woman, it seemed as though -the earth had opened at her feet and shown her nothing but a grave -in which to fall. Life--empty and blank and bare of love and -tenderness, stretched before her imagination; she saw herself -toiling along the monotonously even road of duty till her hair -became gray and her face thin and wan and wrinkled, and never a -gleam again of the beautiful, glowing, romantic passion that for a -short time had made her days splendid with the dreams that are -sweeter than all realities. - -Poor Helen! It was little marvel that she wept as all women weep -when their hearts are broken. It is so easy to break a heart; -sometimes a mere word will do it. But the vanishing of the winged -Love-god from the soul is even more than heart-break,--it is utter -and irretrievable loss,--complete and dominating chaos out of -which no good thing can ever be designed or created. In our days -we do our best to supply the place of a reluctant Eros by the -gilded, grinning Mammon-figure which we try to consider as -superior to any silver-pinioned god that ever descended in his -rainbow car to sing heavenly songs to mortals; but it is an -unlovely substitute,--a hideous idol at best; and grasp its golden -knees and worship it as we will, it gives us little or no comfort -in the hours of strong temptation or trouble. We have made a -mistake--we, in our progressive generation,--we have banished the -old sweetnesses, triumphs and delights of life, and we have got in -exchange steam and electricity. But the heart of the age clamors -on unsatisfied,--none of our "new" ideas content it--nothing -pacifies its restless yearning; it feels--this great heart of -human life--that it is losing more than it gains, hence the -incessant, restless aching of the time, and the perpetual longing -for something Science cannot teach,--something vague, beautiful, -indefinable, yet satisfying to every pulse of the soul; and the -nearest emotion to that divine solace is what we in our higher and -better moments recognize as Love. And Love was lost to Helen -Murray; the choice pearl had fallen in the vast gulf of Might- -have-been, and not all the forces of Nature would ever restore to -her that priceless gem. - -And while she wept to herself in solitude, and her brother Denzil -wandered about in the gardens of the hotel, encouraging within -himself hopes of winning the bewitching Ziska for a wife, Armand -Gervase, shut up in his room under plea of slight indisposition, -reviewed the emotions of the past night and tired to analyze them. -Some men are born self-analysts, and are able to dissect their -feelings by some peculiar form of mental surgery which finally -leads them to cut out tenderness as though it were a cancer, love -as a disease, and romantic aspirations as mere uncomfortable -growths injurious to self-interest, but Gervase was not one of -these. Outwardly he assumed more or less the composed and careless -demeanor of the modern French cynic, but inwardly the man was a -raging fire of fierce passions which were sometimes too strong to -be held in check. At the present moment he was prepared to -sacrifice everything, even life itself, to obtain possession of -the woman he coveted, and he made no attempt whatever to resist -the tempest of desire that was urging him on with an invincible -force in a direction which, for some strange and altogether -inexplicable reason, he dreaded. Yes, there was a dim sense of -terror lurking behind all the wild passion that filled his soul--a -haunting, vague idea that this sudden love, with its glowing ardor -and intoxicating delirium, was like the brilliant red sunset which -frequently prognosticates a night of storm, ruin and death. Yet, -though he felt this presentiment like a creeping shudder of cold -through his blood, it did not hold him back, or for a moment -impress him with the idea that it might be better to yield no -further to this desperate love-madness which enthralled him. - -Once only, he thought, "What if I left Egypt now--at once--and saw -her no more?" And then he laughed scornfully at the impossibility -proposed. "Leave Egypt!" he muttered, "I might as well leave the -world altogether! She would draw me back with those sweet wild -eyes of hers,--she would drag me from the uttermost parts of the -earth to fall at her feet in a very agony of love. My God! She -must have her way and do with me as she will, for I feel that she -holds my life in her hands!" - -As he spoke these last words half aloud, he sprang up from the -chair in which he had been reclining, and stood for a moment lost -in frowning meditation. - -"My life in her hands!" he repeated musingly. "Yes, it has come to -that! My life!" A great sigh broke from him. "My life--my art--my -work--my name! In all these things I have taken pride, and she-- -she can trample them under her feet and make of me nothing more -than man clamoring for woman's love! What a wild world it is! What -a strange Force must that be which created it!--the Force that -some men call God and others Devil! A strange, blind, brute -Force!--for it makes us aspire only to fall; it gives a man dreams -of ambition and splendid attainment only to fling him like a mad -fool on a woman's breast, and bid him find there, and there only, -the bewildering sweetness which makes everything else in existence -poor and tame in comparison. Well, well--my life! What is it? A -mere grain of sand dropped in the sea; let her do with it as she -will. God! How I felt her power upon me last night,--last night -when her lithe figure swaying in the dance reminded me ..." - -He paused, startled at the turn his own thoughts were taking. - -"Of what? Let me try and express to myself now what I could not -express or realize last night. She--Ziska--I thought was mine,-- -mine from her dimpled feet to her dusky hair,--and she danced for -me alone. It seemed that the jewels she wore upon her rounded arms -and slender ankles were all love-gifts from me--every circlet of -gold, every starry, shining gem on her fair body was the symbol of -some secret joy between us--joy so keen as to be almost pain. And -as she danced, I thought I was in a vast hall of a majestic -palace, where open colonnades revealed wide glimpses of a burning -desert and deep blue sky. I heard the distant sound of rolling -drums, and not far off I saw the Sphinx--a creature not old but -new--resting upon a giant pedestal and guarding the sculptured -gate of some great temple which contained, as I then thought, all -the treasures of the world. I could paint the picture as I saw it -then! It was a fleeting impression merely, conjured up by the -dance that dizzied my brain. And that song of the Lotus-lily! That -was strange--very strange, for I thought I had heard it often -before,--and I saw myself in the vague dream, a prince, a warrior, -almost a king, and far more famous in the world than I am now!" - -He looked about him uneasily, with a kind of nervous terror, and -his eyes rested for a moment on the easel where the picture he had -painted of the Princess was placed, covered from view by a fold of -dark cloth. - -"Bah!" he exclaimed at last with a forced laugh, "What stupid -fancies fool me! It is all the vague talk of that would-be learned -ass, Dr. Dean, with his ridiculous theories about life and death. -I shall be imagining I am his fad, Araxes, next! This sort of -thing will never do. Let me reason out the matter calmly. I love -this woman,--love her to absolute madness. It is not the best kind -of love, maybe, but it is the only kind I am capable of, and such -as it is, she possesses it all. What then? Well! We go to-morrow -to the Pyramids, and we join her at the Mena House, I and the poor -boy Denzil. He will try his chance--I mine. If he wins, I shall -kill him as surely as I myself live,--yes, even though he is -Helen's brother. No man shall snatch Ziska from my arms and -continue to breathe. If I win, it is possible he may kill me, and -I shall respect him for trying to do it. But I shall satisfy my -love first; Ziska will be mine--mine in every sense of -possession,--before I die. Yes, that must be--that will have to -be. And afterwards,--why let Denzil do his worst; a man can but -die once." - -He drew the cloth off his easel and stared at the strange picture -of the Princess, which seemed almost sentient in its half- -watchful, half-mocking expression. - -"There is a dead face and a living one on this canvas," he said, -"and the dead face seems to enthral me as much as the living. Both -have the same cruel smile,--both the same compelling magnetism of -eye. Only it is a singular thing that I should know the dead face -even more intimately than the living--that the tortured look upon -it should be a kind of haunting memory--horrible--ghastly. ..." - -He flung the cloth over the easel again impatiently, and tried to -laugh at his own morbid imagination. - -"I know who is responsible for all this nonsense," he said. "It is -that ridiculous little half-mad faddist, Dr. Dean. He is going to -the Mena House, too. Well!--he will be the witness of a comedy or -a tragedy there,--and Heaven alone knows which it will be!" - -And to distract his thoughts from dwelling any longer on the -haunting ideas that perplexed him, he took up one of the latest -and frothiest of French novels and began to read. Some one in a -room not far off was singing a French song,--a man with a rich -baritone voice,--and unconsciously to himself Gervase caught the -words as they rang out full and clearly on the quiet, heated air-- - - O toi que j'ai tant aimee - Songes-tu que je t'aime encor? - Et dans ton ame alarmee, - Ne sens-tu pas quelque remord? - Viens avec moi, si tu m'aimes, - Habiter dans ces deserts; - Nous y vivrons pour nous memes, - Oublies de tout l'univers! - -And something like a mist of tears clouded his aching eyes as he -repeated, half mechanically and dreamily-- - - O toi que j'ai tant aimee, - Songes-tu que je t'aime encor? - - - - -CHAPTER XIII. - - -For the benefit of those among the untravelled English who have -not yet broken a soda-water bottle against the Sphinx, or eaten -sandwiches to the immortal memory of Cheops, it may be as well to -explain that the Mena House Hotel is a long, rambling, roomy -building, situated within five minutes' walk of the Great Pyramid, -and happily possessed of a golfing-ground and a marble swimming- -bath. That ubiquitous nuisance, the "amateur photographer," can -there have his "dark room" for the development of his more or less -imperfect "plates"; and there is a resident chaplain for the -piously inclined. With a chaplain and a "dark room," what more can -the aspiring soul of the modern tourist desire? Some of the rooms -at the Mena House are small and stuffy; others large and furnished -with sufficient elegance: and the Princess Ziska had secured a -"suite" of the best that could be obtained, and was soon installed -there with befitting luxury. She left Cairo quite suddenly, and -without any visible preparation, the morning after the reception -in which she had astonished her guests by her dancing: and she did -not call at the Gezireh Palace Hotel to say good-bye to any of her -acquaintances there. She was perhaps conscious that her somewhat -"free" behavior had startled several worthy and sanctimonious -persons; and possibly she also thought that to take rooms in an -hotel which was only an hour's distance from Cairo, could scarcely -be considered as absenting herself from Cairene society. She was -followed to her desert retreat by Dr. Dean, Armand Gervase, and -Denzil Murray, who drove to the Mena House together in one -carriage, and were more or less all three in a sober and -meditative frame of mind. They arrived in time to see the Sphinx -bathed in the fierce glow of an ardent sunset, which turned the -golden sands to crimson, and made the granite monster look like a -cruel idol surrounded by a sea of blood. The brilliant red of the -heavens flamed in its stony eyes, and gave them a sentient look as -of contemplated murder,--and the same radiance fitfully playing on -the half-scornful, half-sensual lips caused them to smile with a -seeming voluptuous mockery. Dr. Dean stood transfixed for a while -at the strange splendor of the spectacle, and turning to his two -silent companions, said suddenly: - -"There is something, after all, in the unguessed riddle of the -Sphinx. It is not a fable; it is a truth. There is a problem to be -solved, and that monstrous creature knows it! The woman's face, -the brute's body--Spiritualism and Materialism in one! It is life, -and more than life; it is love. Forever and forever it teaches the -same wonderful, terrible mystery. We aspire, yet we fall; love -would fain give us wings wherewith to fly; but the wretched body -lies prone--supine; it cannot soar to the Light Eternal." - -"What IS the Light Eternal?" queried Gervase, moodily. "How do we -know it exists? We cannot prove it. This world is what we see; we -have to do with it and ourselves. Soul without body could not -exist. ..." - -"Could it not?" said the Doctor. "How, then, does body exist -without soul?" - -This was an unexpected but fair question, and Gervase found -himself curiously perplexed by it. He offered no reply, neither -did Denzil, and they all three slowly entered the Mena House -Hotel, there to be met with deferential salutations by the urbane -and affable landlord, and to be assured that they would find their -rooms comfortable, and also that "Madame la Princesse Ziska" -expected them to dine with her that evening. At this message, -Denzil Murray made a sign to Gervase that he wished to speak to -him alone. Gervase move aside with him. - -"Give me my chance!" said Denzil, fiercely. - -"Take it!" replied Gervase listlessly. "Let to-night witness the -interchange of hearts between you and the Princess; I shall not -interfere." - -Denzil stared at him in sullen astonishment. - -"You will not interfere? Your fancy for her is at an end?" - -Gervase raised his dark, glowing eyes and fixed them on his would- -be rival with a strange and sombre expression. - -"My 'fancy' for her? My good boy, take care what you say! Don't -rouse me too far, for I am dangerous! My 'fancy' for her! What do -you know of it? You are hot-blooded and young; but the chill of -the North controls you in a fashion, while I--a man in the prime -of manhood--am of the South, and the Southern fire brooks no -control. Have you seen a quiet ocean, smooth as glass, with only a -dimple in the deep blue to show that perhaps, should occasion -serve, there might arise a little wave? And have you seen the wild -storm breaking from a black cloud and suddenly making that quiet -expanse nothing but a tourbillon of furious elements, in which the -very sea-gull's cry is whelmed and lost in the thunder of the -billows? Such a storm as that may be compared to the 'fancy' you -suppose I feel for the woman who has dragged us both here to die -at her feet--for that, I believe, is what it will come to. Life is -not possible under the strain of emotion with which we two are -living it. ..." - -He broke off, then resumed in quieter tones: - -"I say to you: Use your opportunities while you have them. After -dinner I will leave you alone with the Princess. I will go out for -a stroll with Dr. Dean. Take your chance, Denzil, for, as I live, -it is your last! It will be my turn next! Give me credit for to- -night's patience!" - -He turned quickly away, and in a moment was gone. Denzil Murray -stood still for a while, thinking deeply, and trying to review the -position in which he found himself. He was madly in love with a -woman for whom his only sister had the most violent antipathy; and -that sister, who had once been all in all to him, had now become -almost less than nothing in the headstrong passion which consumed -him. No consideration for her peace and ultimate happiness -affected him, though he was sensible of a certain remorseful pity -when thinking of her gentle ways and docile yielding to his often -impatient and impetuous humors; but, after all, she was only his -sister,--she could not understand his present condition of mind. -Then there was Gervase, whom he had for some years looked upon as -one of his most admired and intimate friends; now he was nothing -more or less than a rival and an enemy, notwithstanding his -seeming courtesy and civil self-restraint. As a matter of fact, -he, Denzil, was left alone to face his fate: to dare the brilliant -seduction of the witching eyes of Ziska,--to win her or to lose -her forever! And consider every point as he would, the weary -conviction was borne in upon him that, whether he met with victory -or defeat, the result would bring more misery than joy. - -When he entered the Princess's salon that evening, he found Dr. -Dean and Gervase already there. The Princess herself, attired in a -dinner-dress made with quite a modern Parisian elegance, received -him in her usual graceful manner, and expressed with much -sweetness her hope that the air of the desert would prove -beneficial to him after the great heats that had prevailed in -Cairo. Nothing but conventionalities were spoken. Oh, those -conventionalities! What a world of repressed emotions they -sometimes cover! How difficult it is to conceive that the man and -woman who are greeting each other with calm courtesy in a crowded -drawing-room are the very two, who, standing face to face in the -moonlit silence of some lonely grove of trees or shaded garden, -once in their lives suddenly realized the wild passion that -neither dared confess! Tragedies lie deepest under -conventionalities--such secrets are buried beneath them as -sometimes might make the angels weep! They are safeguards, -however, against stronger emotions; and the strange bathos of two -human creatures talking politely about the weather when the soul -of each is clamoring for the other, has sometimes, despite its -absurdity, saved the situation. - -At dinner, the Princess Ziska devoted herself almost entirely to -the entertainment of Dr. Dean, and awakened his interest very -keenly on the subject of the Great Pyramid. - -"It has never really been explored," she said. "The excavators who -imagine they have fathomed its secrets are completely in error. -The upper chambers are mere deceits to the investigator; they were -built and planned purposely to mislead, and the secrets they hide -have never even been guessed at, much less discovered." - -"Are you sure of that?" inquired the Doctor, eagerly. "If so, -would you not give your information. ..." - -"I neither give my information nor sell it," interrupted the -Princess, smiling coldly. "I am only a woman--and women are -supposed to know nothing. With the rest of my sex, I am judged -illogical and imaginative; you wise men would call my knowledge of -history deficient, my facts not proven. But, if you like, I will -tell you the story of the construction of the Great Pyramid, and -why it is unlikely that anyone will ever find the treasures that -are buried within it. You can receive the narrative with the usual -incredulity common to men; I shall not attempt to argue the pros -and cons with you, because I never argue. Treat it as a fairy- -tale--no woman is ever supposed to know anything for a fact,--she -is too stupid. Only men are wise!" - -Her dark, disdainful glance flashed on Gervase and Denzil; anon -she smiled bewitchingly, and added: - -"Is it not so?" - -"Wisdom is nothing compared to beauty," said Gervase. "A beautiful -woman can turn the wisest man into a fool." - -The Princess laughed lightly. - -"Yes, and a moment afterwards he regrets his folly," she said. "He -clamors for the beautiful woman as a child might cry for the moon, -and when he at last possesses her, he tires. Satisfied with having -compassed her degradation, he exclaims: 'What shall I do with this -beauty, which, because it is mine, now palls upon me? Let me kill -it and forget it; I am aweary of love, and the world is full of -women!' That is the way of your sex, Monsieur Gervase; it is a -brutal way, but it is the one most of you follow." - -"There is such a thing as love!" said Denzil, looking up quickly, -a pained flush on his handsome face. - -"In the hearts of women, yes!" said Ziska, her voice growing -tremulous with strange and sudden passion. "Women love--ah!--with -what force and tenderness and utter abandonment of self! But their -love is in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred utterly wasted; it -is a largesse flung to the ungrateful, a jewel tossed in the mire! -If there were not some compensation in the next life for the ruin -wrought on loving women, the Eternal God himself would be a -mockery and a jest." - -"And is he not?" queried Gervase, ironically. "Fair Princess, I -would not willingly shake your faith in things unseen, but what -does the 'Eternal God,' as you call Him, care as to the destiny of -any individual unit on this globe of matter? Does He interfere -when the murderer's knife descends upon the victim? And has He -ever interfered? He it is who created the sexes and placed between -them the strong attraction that often works more evil and misery -than good; and what barrier has He ever interposed between woman -and man, her natural destroyer? None!--save the trifling one of -virtue, which is a flimsy thing, and often breaks down at the -first temptation. No, my dear Princess; the 'Eternal God,' if -there is one, does nothing but look on impassively at the -universal havoc of creation. And in the blindness and silence of -things, I cannot recognize an Eternal God at all; we were -evidently made to eat, drink, breed and die--and there an end." - -"What of ambition?" asked Dr. Dean. "What of the inspiration that -lifts a man beyond himself and his material needs, and teaches him -to strive after the Highest?" - -"Mere mad folly!" replied Gervase impetuously. "Take the Arts. I, -for example, dream of painting a picture that shall move the world -to admiration,--but I seldom grasp the idea I have imagined. I -paint something,--anything,--and the world gapes at it, and some -rich fool buys it, leaving me free to paint another something; and -so on and so on, to the end of my career. I ask you what -satisfaction does it bring? What is it to Raphael that thousands -of human units, cultured and silly, have stared at his 'Madonnas' -and his famous Cartoons?" - -"Well, we do not exactly know what it may or may not be to -Raphael," said the Doctor, meditatively. "According to my -theories, Raphael is not dead, but merely removed into another -form, on another planet possibly, and is working elsewhere. You -might as well ask what it is to Araxes now that he was a famous -warrior once?" - -Gervase moved uneasily. - -"You have got Araxes on the brain, Doctor," he said, with a forced -smile, "and in our conversation we are forgetting that the -Princess has promised to tell us a fairytale, the story of the -Great Pyramid." - -The Princess looked at him, then at Denzil Murray, and lastly at -Dr. Dean. - -"Would you really care to hear it?" she asked. - -"Most certainly!" they all three answered. - -She rose from the dinner-table. - -"Come here to the window," she said. "You can see the great -structure now, in the dusky light,--look at it well and try, if -you can, to realize that deep, deep down in the earth on which it -stands is a connected gallery of rocky caves wherein no human foot -has ever penetrated since the Deluge swept over the land and made -a desert of all the old-time civilization!" - -Her slight figure appeared to dilate as she spoke, raising one -slender hand and arm to point at the huge mass that towered up -against the clear, starlit sky. Her listeners were silent, awed -and attentive. - -"One of the latest ideas concerning the Pyramids is, as you know, -that they were built as towers of defence against the Deluge. That -is correct. The wise men of the old days foretold the time when -'the waters should rise and cover the earth,' and these huge -monuments were prepared and raised to a height which it was -estimated would always appear above the level of the coming flood, -to show where the treasures of Egypt were hidden for safety. Yes,- --the treasures of Egypt, the wisdom, the science of Egypt! They -are all down there still! And there, to all intents and purposes, -they are likely to remain." - -"But archaeologists are of the opinion that the Pyramids have been -thoroughly explored," began Dr. Dean, with some excitement. - -The Princess interrupted him by a slight gesture. - -"Archaeologists, my dear Doctor, are like the rest of this world's -so-called 'learned' men; they work in one groove, and are -generally content with it. Sometimes an unusually brilliant brain -conceives the erratic notion of working in several grooves, and is -straightway judged as mad or fanatic. It is when these comet-like -intelligences sweep across the world's horizon that we hear of a -Julius Caesar, a Napoleon, a Shakespeare. But archaeologists are -the narrowest and dryest of men,--they preconceive a certain -system of work and follow it out by mathematical rule and plan, -without one touch of imagination to help them to discover new -channels of interest or historical information. As I told you -before I began to speak, you are welcome to entirely disbelieve my -story of the Great Pyramid,--but as I have begun it, you may as -well hear it through." She paused a moment, then went on: -"According to my information, the building of the Pyramids was -commenced three hundred years before the Deluge, in the time of -Saurid, the son of Sabaloc, who, it is said, was the first to -receive a warning dream of the coming flood. Saurid, being -convinced by his priests, astrologers and soothsayers that the -portent was a true one, became from that time possessed of one -idea, which was that the vast learning of Egypt, its sciences, -discoveries and strange traditions should not be lost,--and that -the exploits and achievements of those who were great and famous -in the land should be so recorded as never to be forgotten. In -those days, here where you see these measureless tracts of sand, -there were great mountainous rocks and granite quarries, and -Saurid utilized these for the hollowing out of deep caverns in -which to conceal treasure. When these caverns were prepared to his -liking, he caused a floor to be made, portions of which were -rendered movable by means of secret springs, and then leaving a -hollow space of some four feet in height, he started foundations -for another floor above it. This upper floor is what you nowadays -see when you enter the Pyramid,--and no one imagines that under it -is an open space with room to walk in, and yet another floor -below, where everything of value is secreted." - -Dr. Dean drew a long breath of wonderment. - -"Astonishing, if true!" - -The Princess smiled somewhat disdainfully, and went on: - -"Saurid's work was carried on after his death by his successors, -and with thousands of slaves toiling night and day the Pyramids -were in the course of years raised above the caverns which -concealed Egypt's mysteries. Everything was gradually accumulated -in these underground store-houses,--the engraved talismans, the -slabs of stone on which were deeply carved the geometrical and -astronomical sciences; indestructible glass chests containing -papyri, on which were written the various discoveries made in -beneficial drugs, swift poisons, and other medicines. And among -these many things were thirty great jars full of precious stones, -some of which were marvels of the earth. They are there still! And -some of the great men who died were interred in these caves, every -one in a separate chamber inlaid with gold and gems, and I think," -here the Princess turned her dark eyes full on Dr. Dean, "I think -that if you knew the secret way of lifting the apparently -immovable floor, which is like the solid ground, and descending -through the winding galleries beneath, it is more than probable -you would find in the Great Pyramid the tomb of Araxes!" - -Her eyes glistened strangely in the evening light with that -peculiar fiery glow which had made Dr. Dean once describe them as -being like the eyes of a vampire-bat, and there was something -curiously impressive in her gesture as she once more pointed to -the towering structure which loomed against the heavens, with one -star flashing immediately above it. A sudden involuntary shudder -shook Gervase as with icy cold; he moved restlessly, and presently -remarked: - -"Well, it is a safe tomb, at any rate! Whoever Araxes was, he -stands little chance of being exhumed if he lies two floors below -the Great Pyramid in a sealed-up rocky cavern! Princess, you look -like an inspired prophetess!--so much talk of ancient and musty -times makes me feel uncanny, and I will, with your permission, -have a smoke with Dr. Dean in the garden to steady my nerves. The -mere notion of thirty vases of unclaimed precious stones hidden -down yonder is enough to upset any man's equanimity!" - -"The papyri would interest me more than the jewels," said Dr. -Dean. "What do you say, Denzil?" - -Denzil Murray woke up suddenly from a fit of abstraction. - -"Oh, I don't know anything about it," he answered. "I never was -very much interested in those old times,--they seem to me all -myth. I could never link past, present and future together as some -people can; they are to me all separate things. The past is done -with,--the present is our own to enjoy or to detest, and the -future no man can look into." - -"Ah, Denzil, you are young, and reflection has not been very hard -at work in that headstrong brain of yours," said Dr. Dean with an -indulgent smile, "otherwise you would see that past, present and -future are one and indissoluble. The past is as much a part of -your present identity as the present, and the future, too, lies in -you in embryo. The mystery of one man's life contains all -mysteries, and if we could only understand it from its very -beginning we should find out the cause of all things, and the -ultimate intention of creation." - -"Well, now, you have all had enough serious talk," said the -Princess Ziska lightly, "so let us adjourn to the drawing-room. -One of my waiting-women shall sing to you by and by; she has a -very sweet voice." - -"Is it she who sings that song about the lotus-lily?" asked -Gervase, suddenly. - -The Princess smiled strangely. - -"Yes,--it is she." - -Dr. Dean chose a cigar from a silver box on the table; Gervase did -the same. - -"Won't you smoke, Denzil?" he asked carelessly. - -"No, thanks!" Denzil spoke hurriedly and hoarsely. "I think--if -the Princess will permit me--I will stay and talk with her in the -drawing-room while you two have your smoke together." - -The Princess gave a charming bow of assent to this proposition. -Gervase took the Doctor somewhat roughly by the arm and led him -out through the open French window into the grounds beyond, -remarking as he went: - -"You will excuse us, Princess? We leave you in good company!" - -She smiled. - -"I will excuse you, certainly! But do not be long!" - -And she passed from the dining-room into the small saloon beyond, -followed closely by Denzil. - -Once out in the grounds, Gervase gave vent to a boisterous fit of -wild laughter, so loud and fierce that little Dr. Dean came to an -abrupt standstill, and stared at him in something of alarm as well -as amazement. - -"Are you going mad, Gervase?" he asked. - -"Yes!" cried Gervase, "that is just it,--I am going mad,--mad for -love, or whatever you please to call it! What do you think I am -made of? Flesh and blood, or cast-iron? Heavens! Do you think if -all the elements were to combine in a war against me, they should -cheat me out of this woman or rob me of her? No, no! A thousand -times no! Satisfy yourself, my excellent Doctor, with your musty -records of the past,--prate as you choose of the future,--but in -the immediate, burning, active present my will is law! And the -fool Denzil thinks to thwart me,--I, who have never been thwarted -since I knew the meaning of existence!" - -He paused in a kind of breathless agitation, and Dr. Dean grasped -his arm firmly. - -"Come, come, what is all this excitement for?" he said. "What are -you saying about Denzil?" - -Gervase controlled himself with a violent effort and forced a -smile. - -"He has got his chance,--I have given it to him! He is alone with -the Princess, and he is asking her to be his wife!" - -"Nonsense!" said the Doctor sharply. "If he does commit such a -folly, it will be no use. The woman is NOT HUMAN!" - -"Not human?" echoed Gervase, his black eyes dilating with a sudden -amazement--"What do you mean?" - -The little Doctor rubbed his nose impatiently and seemed sorry he -had spoken. - -"I mean--let me see! What do I mean?" he said at last -meditatively--"Oh, well, it is easy enough of explanation. There -are plenty of people like the Princess Ziska to whom I would apply -the words 'not human.' She is all beauty and no heart. Again--if -you follow me--she is all desire and no passion, which is a -character 'like unto the beasts which perish.' A large majority of -men are made so, and some women,--though the women are -comparatively few. Now, so far as the Princess Ziska is -concerned," continued the Doctor, fixing his keen, penetrative -glance on Gervase as he spoke, "I frankly admit to you that I find -in her material for a very curious and complex study. That is why -I have come after her here. I have said she is all desire and no -passion. That of itself is inhuman; but what I am busy about now -is to try and analyze the nature of the particular desire that -moves her, controls her, keeps her alive,--in short. It is not -love; of that I feel confident; and it is not hate,--though it is -more like hate than love. It is something indefinable, something -that is almost occult, so deep-seated and bewildering is the -riddle. You look upon me as a madman--yes! I know you do! But mad -or sane, I emphatically repeat, the Princess is NOT HUMAN, and by -this expression I wish to imply that though she has the outward -appearance of a most beautiful and seductive human body, she has -the soul of a fiend. Now, do you understand me?" - -"It would take Oedipus himself all his time to do that,"--said -Gervase, forcing a laugh which had no mirth in it, for he was -conscious of a vaguely unpleasant sensation--a chill, as of some -dark presentiment, which oppressed his mind. "When you know I do -not believe in the soul, why do you talk to me about it? The soul -of a fiend,--the soul of an angel,--what are they? Mere empty -terms to me, meaning nothing. I think I agree with you though, in -one or two points concerning the Princess; par exemple, I do not -look upon her as one of those delicately embodied purities of -womanhood before whom we men instinctively bend in reverence, but -whom, at the same time, we generally avoid, ashamed of our -vileness. No; she is certainly not one of the - - "'Maiden roses left to die - Because they climb so near the sky, - That not the boldest passer-by - Can pluck them from their vantage high.' - -And whether it is best to be a solitary 'maiden-rose' or a -Princess Ziska, who shall say? And human or inhuman, whatever -composition she is made of, you may make yourself positively -certain that Denzil Murray is just now doing his best to persuade -her to be a Highland chatelaine in the future. Heavens, what a -strange fate it will be for la belle Egyptienne!" - -"Oh, you think she IS Egyptian then?" queried Dr. Dean, with an -air of lively curiosity. - -"Of course I do. She has the Egyptian type of form and -countenance. Consider only the resemblance between her and the -dancer she chose to represent the other night--the Ziska-Charmazel -of the antique sculpture on her walls!" - -"Ay, but if you grant one resemblance, you must also admit -another," said the Doctor quickly. "The likeness between yourself -and the old-world warrior, Araxes, is no less remarkable!" Gervase -moved uneasily, and a sudden pallor blanched his face, making it -look wan and haggard in the light of the rising moon. "And it is -rather singular," went on the imperturbable savant, "that -according to the legend or history--whichever you please to -consider it,--for in time, legends become histories and histories -legends--Araxes should have been the lover of this very Ziska- -Charmazel, and that you, who are the living portrait of Araxes, -should suddenly become enamored of the equally living portrait of -the dead woman! You must own, that to a mere onlooker and observer -like myself, it seems a curious coincidence!" - -Gervase smoked on in silence, his level brows contracted in a -musing frown. - -"Yes, it seems curious," he said at last, "but a great many -curious coincidences happen in this world--so many that we, in our -days of rush and turmoil, have not time to consider them as they -come or go. Perhaps of all the strange things in life, the sudden -sympathies and the headstrong passions which spring up in a day or -a night between certain men and certain women are the strangest. I -look upon you, Doctor, as a very clever fellow with just a little -twist in his brain, or let us say a 'fad' about spiritual matters; -but in one of your more or less fantastic and extravagant theories -I am half disposed to believe, and that is the notion you have of -the possibility of some natures, male and female, having met -before in a previous state of existence and under different forms, -such as birds, flowers, or forest animals, or even mere -incorporeal breaths of air and flame. It is an idea which I -confess fascinates me. It seems fairly reasonable too, for, as -many scientists argue that you cannot destroy matter, but only -transform it, there is really nothing impossible in the -suggestion." - -He paused, then added slowly as he flung the end of his cigar -away: - -"I have felt the force of this odd fancy of yours most strongly -since I met the Princess Ziska." - -"Indeed! Then the impression she gave you first is still upon you- --that of having known her before?" - -Gervase waited a minute or two before replying; then he answered: - -"Yes. And not only of having known her before, but of having loved -her before. Love!--mon Dieu!--what a tame word it is! How poorly -it expresses the actual emotion! Fire in the veins--delirium in -the brain--reason gone to chaos! And this madness is mildly -described as 'love?'" - -"There are other words for it," said the Doctor. "Words that are -not so poetic, but which, perhaps, are more fitting." - -"No!" interrupted Gervase, almost fiercely. "There are no words -which truly describe this one emotion which rules the world. I -know what YOU mean, of course; you mean evil words, licentious -words, and yet it has nothing whatever to do with these. You -cannot call such an exalted state of the nerves and sensations by -an evil name." - -Dr. Dean pondered the question for a few moments. - -"No, I am not sure that I can," he said, meditatively. "If I did, -I should have to give an evil name to the Creator who designed man -and woman and ordained the law of attraction which draws, and -often DRAGS them together. I like to be fair to everybody, the -Creator included; yet to be fair to everybody I shall appear to -sanction immorality. For the fact is that our civilization has -upset all the original intentions of nature. Nature evidently -meant Love, or the emotion we call Love, to be the keynote of the -universe. But apparently Nature did not intend marriage. The -flowers, the birds, the lower animals, mate afresh every spring, -and this is the creed that the disciples of Naturalism nowadays -are anxious to force upon the attention of the world. It is only -men and women, they say, that are so foolish as to take each other -for better or worse till death do them part. Now, I should like, -from the physical scientist's point of view, to prove that the men -and women are wrong, and that the lower animals are right; but -spiritual science comes in and confutes me. For in spiritual -science I find this truth, which will not be gainsaid--namely, -that from time immemorial, certain immortal forms of Nature have -been created solely for one another; like two halves of a circle, -they are intended to meet and form the perfect round, and all the -elements of creation, spiritual and material, will work their -hardest to pull them together. Such natures, I consider, should -absolutely and imperatively be joined in marriage. It then becomes -a divine decree. Even grant, if you like, that the natures so -joined are evil, and that the sympathy between them is of a more -or less reprehensible character, it is quite as well that they -should unite, and that the result of such an union should be seen. -The evil might come out of them in a family of criminals which the -law could exterminate with advantage to the world in general. -Whereas on the other hand, given two fine and aspiring natures -with perfect sympathy between them, as perfect as the two notes of -a perfect chord, the children of such a marriage would probably be -as near gods as humanity could bring them. I speak as a scientist -merely. Such consequences are not foreseen by the majority, and -marriages as a rule take place between persons who are by no means -made for each other. Besides, a kind of devil comes into the -business, and often prevents the two sympathetic natures -conjoining. Love-matters alone are quite sufficient to convince me -that there IS a devil as well as a divinity that 'shapes our -ends.'" - -"You speak as if you yourself had loved, Doctor," said Gervase, -with a half smile. - -"And so I have," replied the Doctor, calmly. "I have loved to the -full as passionately and ardently as even you can love. I thank -God the woman I loved died,--I could never have possessed her, for -she was already wedded,--and I would not have disgraced her by -robbing her from her lawful husband. So Death stepped in and gave -her to me--forever!" and he raised his eyes to the solemn starlit -sky. "Yes, nothing can ever come between us now; no demon tears -her white soul from me; she died innocent of evil, and she is -mine--mine in every pulse of her being, as we shall both know -hereafter!" - -His face, which was not remarkable for any beauty of feature, grew -rapt and almost noble in its expression, and Gervase looked at him -with a faint touch of ironical wonder. - -"Upon my word, your morality almost outreaches your mysticism!" he -said. "I see you are one of those old-fashioned men who think -marriage a sacred sort of thing and the only self-respecting form -of love." - -"Old-fashioned I may be," replied Dr. Dean; "but I certainly -believe in marriage for the woman's sake. If the license of men -were not restrained by some sort of barrier it would break all -bounds. Now I, had I chosen, could have taken the woman I loved to -myself; it needed but a little skilful persuasion on my part, for -her husband was a drink-sodden ruffian..." - -"And why, in the name of Heaven, did you not do so?" demanded -Gervase impatiently. - -"Because I know the end of all such liaisons," said the Doctor -sadly. "A month or two of delirious happiness, then years of -remorse to follow. The man is lowered in his own secret estimation -of himself, and the woman is hopelessly ruined, socially and -morally. No, Death is far better; and in my case Death has proved -a good friend, for it has given me the spotless soul of the woman -I loved, which is far fairer than her body was." - -"But, unfortunately, intangible!" said Gervase, satirically. - -The Doctor looked at him keenly and coldly. - -"Do not be too sure of that, my friend! Never talk about what you -do not understand; you only wander astray. The spiritual world is -a blank to you, so do not presume to judge of what you will never -realize TILL REALIZATION IS FORCED UPON YOU!" - -He uttered the last words with slow and singular emphasis. - -"Forced upon me?" began Gervase. "What do you mean? ..." - -He broke off abruptly, for at that moment Denzil Murray emerged -from the doorway of the hotel, and came towards them with an -unsteady, swaying step like that of a drunken man. - -"You had better go in to the Princess," he said, staring at -Gervase with a wild smile; "she is waiting for you!" - -"What's the matter with you, Denzil?" inquired Dr. Dean, catching -him by the arm as he made a movement to go on and pass them. - -Denzil stopped, frowning impatiently. - -"Matter? Nothing! What should be the matter?" - -"Oh, no offence; no offence, my boy!" and Dr. Dean at once -loosened his arm. "I only thought you looked as if you had had -some upset or worry, that's all." - -"Climate! climate!" said Denzil, hoarsely. "Egypt does not agree -with me, I suppose!--the dryness of the soil breeds fever and a -touch of madness! Men are not blocks of wood or monoliths of -stone; they are creatures of flesh and blood, of nerve and muscle; -you cannot torture them so..." - -He interrupted himself with a kind of breathless irritation at his -own speech. Gervase regarded him steadily, slightly smiling. - -"Torture them how, Denzil?" asked the Doctor, kindly. "Dear lad, -you are talking nonsense. Come and stroll with me up and down; the -air is quite balmy and delightful; it will cool your brain." - -"Yes, it needs cooling!" retorted Denzil, beginning to laugh with -a sort of wild hilarity. "Too much wine,--too much woman,--too -much of these musty old-world records and ghastly pyramids!" - -Here he broke off, adding quickly: - -"Doctor, Helen and I will go back to England next week, if all is -well." - -"Why, certainly, certainly!" said Dr. Dean, soothingly. "I think -we are all beginning to feel we have had enough of Egypt. I shall -probably return home with you. Meanwhile, come for a stroll and -talk to me; Monsieur Armand Gervase will perhaps go in and excuse -us for a few minutes to the Princess Ziska." - -"With pleasure!" said Gervase; then, beckoning Denzil Murray -aside, he whispered: - -"Tell me, have you won or lost?" - -"Lost!" replied Denzil, fiercely, through his set teeth. "It is -your turn now! But, if you win, as sure as there is a God above -us, I will kill you!" - -"SOIT! But not till I am ready for killing! AFTER TO-MORROW NIGHT -I shall be at your service, not till then!" - -And smiling coldly, his dark face looking singularly pale and -stern in the moonlight, Gervase turned away, and, walking with his -usual light, swift, yet leisurely tread, entered the Princess's -apartment by the French window which was still open, and from -which the sound of sweet music came floating deliciously on the -air as he disappeared. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV. - - -In a half-reclining attitude of indolently graceful ease, the -Princess Ziska watched from beneath the slumbrous shadow of her -long-fringed eyelids the approach of her now scarcely-to-be -controlled lover. He came towards her with a certain impetuosity -of movement which was so far removed from ordinary conventionality -as to be wholly admirable from the purely picturesque point of -view, despite the fact that it expressed more passion and -impatience than were in keeping with nineteenth-century customs -and manners. He had almost reached her side before he became aware -that there were two other women in the room besides the Princess,- --silent, veiled figures that sat, or rather crouched, on the -floor, holding quaintly carved and inlaid musical instruments of -some antique date in their hands, the only sign of life about them -being their large, dark, glistening almond-shaped eyes, which were -every now and then raised and fixed on Gervase with an intense and -searching look of inquiry. Strangely embarrassed by their glances, -he addressed the Princess in a low tone: - -"Will you not send away your women?" - -She smiled. - -"Yes, presently; if you wish it, I will. But you must hear some -music first. Sit down there," and she pointed with her small -jewelled hand to a low chair near her own. "My lutist shall sing -you something,--in English, of course!--for all the world is being -Anglicized by degrees, and there will soon be no separate nations -left. Something, too, of romantic southern passion is being -gradually grafted on to English sentiment, so that English songs -are not so stupid as they were once. I translated some stanzas -from one of the old Egyptian poets into English the other day, -perhaps you will like them. Myrmentis, sing us the 'Song of -Darkness.'" - -An odd sensation of familiarity with the name of "Myrmentis" -startled Gervase as he heard it pronounced, and he looked at the -girl who was so called in a kind of dread. But she did not meet -his questioning regard,--she was already bending over her lute and -tuning its strings, while her companion likewise prepared to -accompany her on a similar though larger instrument, and in an- -other moment her voice, full and rich, with a sobbing passion in -it which thrilled him to the inmost soul, rang out on the warm -silence: - - In the darkness what deeds are done! - What wild words spoken! - What joys are tasted, what passion wasted! - What hearts are broken! - Not a glimpse of the moon shall shine, - Not a star shall mark - The passing of night,--or shed its light - On my Dream of the Dark! - - On the scented and slumbrous air, - Strange thoughts are thronging; - And a blind desire more fierce than fire - Fills the soul with longing; - Through the silence heavy and sweet - Comes the panting breath - Of a lover unseen from the Might-Have-Been, - Whose loving is Death! - - In the darkness a deed was done, - A wild word spoken! - A joy was tasted,--a passion wasted,-- - A heart was broken! - Not a glimpse of the moon shall shine, - Not a star shall mark - The passing of night,--or shed its light - On my Dream of the Dark! - -The song died away in a shuddering echo, and before Gervase had -time to raise his eyes from their brooding study of the floor the -singer and her companion had noiselessly disappeared, and he was -left alone with the Princess Ziska. He drew along breath, and -turning fully round in his chair, looked at her steadily. There -was a faint smile on her lips--a smile of mingled mockery and -triumph,--her beautiful witch-like eyes glittered. Leaning towards -her, he grasped her hands suddenly in his own. - -"Now," he whispered, "shall I speak or be silent?" - -"Whichever you please," she responded composedly, still smiling. -"Speech or silence rest equally with yourself. I compel neither." - -"That is false!" he said passionately. "You do compel! Your eyes -drag my very soul out of me--your touch drives me into frenzy! You -temptress! You force me to speak, though you know already what I -have to say! That I love you, love you! And that you love me! That -your whole life leaps to mine as mine to yours! You know all this; -if I were stricken dumb, you could read it in my face, but you -will have it spoken--you will extort from me the whole secret of -my madness!--yes, for you to take a cruel joy in knowing that I AM -mad--mad for the love of you! And you cannot be too often or too -thoroughly assured that your own passion finds its reflex in me!" - -He paused, abruptly checked in his wild words by the sound of her -low, sweet, chill laughter. She withdrew her hands from his -burning grasp. - -"My dear friend," she said lightly, "you really have a very -excellent opinion of yourself--excuse me for saying so! 'My own -passion!' Do you actually suppose I have a 'passion' for you?" And -rising from her chair, she drew up her slim supple figure to its -full height and looked at him with an amused and airy scorn. "You -are totally mistaken! No one man living can move me to love; I -know all men too well! Their natures are uniformly composed of the -same mixture of cruelty, lust and selfishness; and forever and -forever, through all the ages of the world, they use the greater -part of their intellectual abilities in devising new ways to -condone and conceal their vices. You call me 'temptress';--why? -The temptation, if any there be, emanates from yourself and your -own unbridled desires; I do nothing. I am made as I am made; if my -face or my form seems fair in your eyes, this is not my fault. -Your glance lights on me, as the hawk's lights on coveted prey; -but think you the prey loves the hawk in response? It is the -mistake all men make with all women,--to judge them always as -being of the same base material as themselves. Some women there -are who shame their womanhood; but the majority, as a rule, -preserve their self-respect till taught by men to lose it." - -Gervase sprang up and faced her, his eyes flashing dangerously. - -"Do not make any pretence with me!" he said half angrily. "Never -tell me you cannot love! ..." - -"I HAVE loved!" she interrupted him. "As true women love,--once, -and only once. It suffices; not for one lifetime, but many. I -loved; and gave myself ungrudgingly and trustingly to the man my -soul worshipped. I was betrayed, of course!--it is the usual -story--quite old, quite commonplace! I can tell it to you without -so much as a blush of pain! Since then I have not loved,--I have -HATED; and I live but for one thing--Revenge." - -Her face paled as she spoke, and a something vague, dark, spectral -and terrible seemed to enfold her like a cloud where she stood. -Anon she smiled sweetly, and with a bewitching provocativeness. - -"Your 'passion,' you see, my friend awakens rather a singular -'reflex' in me!--not quite of the nature you imagined!" - -He remained for a moment inert; then, with an almost savage -boldness, threw his arm about her. - -"Have everything your own way, Ziska!" he said in quick, fierce -accents. "I will accept all your fancies, and humor all your -caprices. I will grant that you do not love me--I will even -suppose that I am repellent to you,--but that shall make no -difference to my desire! You shall be mine!--willing or unwilling! -If every kiss I take from your lips be torn from you with -reluctance, yet those kisses I will have!--you shall not escape -me! You--you, out of all women in the world, I choose..." - -"As your wife?" said Ziska slowly, her dark eyes gleaming with a -strange light as she dexterously withdrew herself from his -embrace. - -He uttered an impatient exclamation. - -"My wife! Dieu! What a banalite! You, with your exquisite, glowing -beauty and voluptuous charm, you would be a 'wife'--that tiresome -figure-head of utterly dull respectability? You, with your -unmatched air of wild grace and freedom, would submit to be tied -down in the bonds of marriage,--marriage, which to my thinking and -that of many other men of my character, is one of the many curses -of this idiotic nineteenth century! No, I offer you love, Ziska!-- -ideal, passionate love!--the glowing, rapturous dream of ecstasy -in which such a thing as marriage would be impossible, the merest -vulgar commonplace--almost a profanity." - -"I understand!" and the Princess Ziska regarded him intently, her -breath coming and going, and a strange smile quivering on her -lips. "You would play the part of an Araxes over again!" - -He smiled; and with all the audacity of a bold and determined -nature, put his arms round her and drew her close up to his -breast. - -"Yes," he said, "I would play the part of an Araxes over again!" - -As he uttered the words, an indescribable sensation of horror -seized him--a mist darkened his sight, his blood grew cold, and a -tremor shook him from head to foot. The fair woman's face that was -lifted so close to his own seemed spectral and far off; and for a -fleeting moment her very beauty grew into something like -hideousness, as if the strange effect of the picture he had -painted of her was now becoming actual and apparent--namely, the -face of death looking through the mask of life. Yet he did not -loosen his arms from about her waist; on the contrary he clasped -her even more closely, and kept his eyes fixed upon her with such -pertinacity that it seemed as if he expected her to vanish from -his sight while he still held her. - -"To play the part of an Araxes aright," she murmured then in slow -and dulcet accents, "you would need to be cruel and remorseless, -and sacrifice my life--or any woman's life--to your own clamorous -and selfish passion. But you,--Armand Gervase,--educated, -civilized, intellectual, and totally unlike the barbaric Araxes, -could not do that, could you? The progress of the world, the -increasing intelligence of humanity, the coming of the Christ, -these things are surely of some weight with you, are they not? Or -are you made of the same savage and impenitent stuff as composed -the once famous yet brutal warrior of old time? Do you admire the -character and spirit of Araxes?--he who, if history reports him -truly, would snatch a woman's life as though it were a wayside -flower, crush out all its sweetness and delicacy, and then fling -it into the dust withered and dead? Do you think that because a -man is strong and famous, he has a right to the love of woman?--a -charter to destroy her as he pleases? If you remember the story I -told you, Araxes murdered with his own hand Ziska-Charmazel the -woman who loved him." - -"He had perhaps grown weary of her," said Gervase, speaking with -an effort, and still studying the exquisite loveliness of the -bewitching face that was so close to his own, like a man in a -dream. - -At this she laughed, and laid her two hands on his shoulders with -a close and clinging clasp which thrilled him strangely. - -"Ah, there is the difficulty!" she said. - -"What cure shall ever be found for love-weariness? Men are all -like children--they tire of their toys; hence the frequent trouble -and discomfort of marriage. They grow weary of the same face, the -same caressing arms, the same faithful heart! You, for instance, -would grow weary of me!" - -"I think not," answered Gervase. And now the vague sense of -uncertainty and pain which had distressed him passed away, leaving -him fully self-possessed once more. "I think you are one of those -exceptional women whom a man never grows weary of: like a -Cleopatra, or any other old-world enchantress, you fascinate with -a look, you fasten with a touch, and you have a singular freshness -and wild attraction about you which makes you unlike any other of -your sex. I know well enough that I shall never get the memory of -you out of my brain; your face will haunt me till I die!" - -"And after death?" she queried, half-closing her eyes, and -regarding him languorously through her silky black lashes. - -"Ah, ma belle, after that there is nothing to be done even in the -way of love. Tout est fini! Considering the brevity of life and -the absolute certainty of death, I think that the men and women -who are so foolish as to miss any opportunities of enjoyment while -they are alive deserve more punishment than those who take all -they can get, even in the line of what is called wickedness. -Wickedness is a curious thing: it takes different shapes in -different lands, and what is called 'wicked' here, is virtue in, -let us say, the Fiji Islands. There is really no strict rule of -conduct in the world, no fixed law of morality." - -"There is honor!" said the Princess, slowly;--"A code which even -savages recognize." - -He was silent. For a moment he seemed to hesitate; but his -indecision soon passed. His face flushed, and anon grew pale, as -closing his arms more victoriously round the fair woman who just -then appeared voluntarily to yield to his embrace, he bent down -and whispered a few words in the tiny ear, white and delicate as a -shell, which was half-hidden by the rich loose clusters of her -luxuriant hair. She heard, and smiled; and her eyes flashed with a -singular ferocity which he did not see, otherwise it might have -startled him. - -"I will answer you to-morrow," she said. "Be patient till then." - -And as she spoke, she released herself determinedly from the clasp -of his arms and withdrew to a little distance, looking at him with -a fixed and searching scrutiny. - -"Do not preach patience to me!" he exclaimed with a laugh. "I -never had that virtue, and I certainly cannot begin to cultivate -it now." - -"Had you ever any virtues?" she asked in a playful tone of -something like satire. - -He shrugged his shoulders. - -"I do not know what you consider virtues," he answered lightly: -"If honesty is one, I have that. I make no pretence to be what I -am not. I would not pass off somebody else's picture as my own, -for instance. But I cannot sham to be moral. I could not possibly -love a woman without wanting her all to myself, and I have not the -slightest belief in the sanctimonious humbug of a man who plays -the Platonic lover only. But I don't cheat, and I don't lie. I am -what I am. ..." - -"A man!" said Ziska, a lurid and vindictive light dilating and -firing her wonderful eyes. "A man!--the essence of all that is -evil, the possibility of all that is good! But the essence is -strong and works; the possibility is a dream which dissolves in -the dreaming!" - -"Yes, you are right, ma chere!" he responded carelessly. -"Goodness--as the world understands goodness--never makes a career -for itself worth anything. Even Christ, who has figured as a -symbol of goodness for eighteen hundred years, was not devoid of -the sin of ambition: He wanted to reign over all Judaea." - -"You view Him in that light?" inquired Ziska with a keen look. -"And as man only?" - -"Why, of course! The idea of an incarnate God has long ago been -discarded by all reasoning thinkers." - -"And what of an incarnate devil?" pursued Ziska, her breath coming -and going quickly. - -"As impossible as the other fancy!" he responded almost gayly. -"There are no gods and no devils, ma belle! The world is ruled by -ourselves alone, and it behoves us to make the best of it. How -will you give me my answer to-morrow? When shall I see you? Speak -low and quickly,--Dr. Dean is coming in here from the garden: -when--when?" - -"I will send for you," she answered. - -"At what hour?" - -"The moon rises at ten. And at ten my messenger shall come for -you." - -"A trustworthy messenger, I hope? One who knows how to be silent?" - -"As silent as the grave!" she said, looking at him fixedly. "As -secret as the Great Pyramid and the hidden tomb of Araxes!" - -And smiling, she turned to greet Dr. Dean, who just then entered -the saloon. - -"Denzil has gone to bed," he announced. "He begged me to excuse -him to you, Princess. I think the boy is feverish. Egypt doesn't -agree with him." - -"I am sorry he is ill," said the Princess with a charming air of -sympathy. - -"Oh, he isn't exactly ill," returned the Doctor, looking sharply -at her beautiful face as he spoke. "He is simply unnerved and -restless. I am a little anxious about him. I think he ought to go -back to England--or Scotland." - -"I think so, too," agreed Gervase. "And Mademoiselle Helen with -him." - -"Mademoiselle Helen you consider very beautiful?" murmured the -Princess, unfurling her fan and waving it indolently to and fro. - -"No, not beautiful," answered the Doctor quickly. "But very -pretty, sweet and lovable--and good." - -"Ah then, of course some one will break her heart!" said the -Princess calmly. "That is what always happens to good women." - -And she smiled as she saw Gervase flush, half with anger, half -with shame. The little Doctor rubbed his nose crossly. - -"Not always, Princess," he said. "Sometimes it does; in fact -pretty often. It is an unfortunate truth that virtue is seldom -rewarded in this world. Virtue in a woman nowadays---" - -"Means no lovers and no fun!" said Gervase gayly. "And the -possibility of a highly decorous marriage with a curate or a -bankclerk, followed by the pleasing result of a family of little -curates or little bank-clerks. It is not a dazzling prospect!" - -The Doctor smiled grimly; then after a wavering moment of -indecision, broke out into a chuckling laugh. - -"You have an odd way of putting things," he said. "But I'm afraid -you may be right in your estimate of the position. Quite as many -women are as miserably sacrificed on the altar of virtue as of -vice. It is 'a mad world,' as Shakespeare says. I hope the next -life we pass into after this one will at least be sane." - -"Well, if you believe in Heaven, you have Testament authority for -the fact that there will be 'neither marriage nor giving in -marriage' there, at any rate," laughed Gervase. "And if we wish to -follow that text out truly in our present state of existence and -become 'as the angels of God' we ought at once to abolish -matrimony." - -"Have done! Have done!" exclaimed the Doctor, still smiling, -however, notwithstanding his protest. "You Southern Frenchmen are -half barbarians,--you have neither religion nor morality." - -"Dieu merci!" said Gervase, irreverently; then turning to the -Princess Ziska, he bowed low and with a courtly grace over the -hand she extended towards him in farewell. "Good-night, -Princess!"--then in a whisper he added: "To-morrow I shall await -your summons." - -"It will come without fail, never fear!" she answered in equally -soft tones. "I hope it may find you ready." - -He raised his eyes and gave her one long, lingering, passionate -look; then with another "Good-night," which included Dr. Dean, -left the room. The Doctor lingered a moment, studying the face and -form of the Princess with a curiously inquisitive air; while she -in her turn confronted him haughtily, and with a touch of defiance -in her aspect. - -"Well," said the savant presently, after a pause: "Now you have -got him, what are you going to do with him?" - -She smiled coldly, but answered nothing. - -"You need not flash your beautiful eyes at me in that eminently -unpleasant fashion," pursued the Doctor, easily. "You see I KNOW -YOU, and I am not afraid of you. I only make a stand against you -in one respect: you shall not kill the boy Denzil." - -"He is nothing to me!" she said, with a gesture of contempt. - -"I know he is nothing to you; but you are something to him. He -does not recognize your nature as I do. I must get him out of the -reach of your spell--" - -"You need not trouble yourself," she interrupted him, a sombre -melancholy darkening her face; "I shall be gone to-morrow." - -"Gone altogether?" inquired the Doctor calmly and without -surprise,--"Not to come back?" - -"Not in this present generation!" she answered. - -Still Dr. Dean evinced no surprise. - -"Then you will have satisfied yourself?" he asked. - -She bent her head. - -"For the time being--yes! I shall have satisfied myself." - -There followed a silence, during which the little Doctor looked at -his beautiful companion with all the meditative interest of a -scientist engaged in working out some intricate and deeply -interesting problem. - -"I suppose I may not inquire how you propose to obtain this -satisfaction?" he said. - -"You may inquire, but you will not be answered!" she retorted, -smiling darkly. - -"Your intentions are pitiless?" - -Still smiling, she said not a word. - -"You are impenitent?" - -She remained silent. - -"And, worst of all, you do not desire redemption! You are one of -those who forever and ever cry, 'Evil, be thou my good!' Thus for -you, Christ died in vain!" - -A faint tremor ran through her, but she was still mute. - -"So you and creatures like you, must have their way in the world -until the end," concluded the Doctor, thoughtfully. "And if all -the philosophers that ever lived were to pronounce you what you -are, they would be disbelieved and condemned as madmen! Well, -Princess, I am glad I have never at any time crossed your path -till now, or given you cause of offence against me. We part -friends, I trust? Good-night! Farewell!" - -She held out her hand. He hesitated before taking it. - -"Are you afraid?" she queried coldly. "It will not harm you!" - -"I am afraid of nothing," he said, at once clasping the white -taper fingers in his own, "except a bad conscience." - -"That will never trouble you!" and the Princess looked at him full -and steadily. "There are no dark corners in your life--no mean -side-alleys and trap-holes of deceit; you have walked on the open -and straight road. You are a good man and a wise one. But though -you, in your knowledge of spiritual things, recognize me for what -I am, take my advice and be silent on the matter. The world would -never believe the truth, even if you told it, for the time is not -yet ripe for men and women to recognize the avengers of their -wicked deeds. They are kept purposely in the dark lest the light -should kill!" - -And with her sombre eyes darkening, yet glowing with the inward -fire that always smouldered in their dazzling depths, she saluted -him gravely and gracefully, watching him to the last as he slowly -withdrew. - - - - -CHAPTER XV. - - -The next day broke with a bright, hot glare over the wide desert, -and the sky in its cloudless burning blue had more than its usual -appearance of limitless and awful immensity. The Sphinx and the -Pyramids alone gave a shadow and a substance to the dazzling and -transparent air,--all the rest of the visible landscape seemed -naught save a far-stretching ocean of glittering sand, scorched by -the blazing sun. Dr. Maxwell Dean rose early and went down to the -hotel breakfast in a somewhat depressed frame of mind; he had -slept badly, and his dreams had been unpleasant, when not actually -ghastly, and he was considerably relieved, though he could not -have told why, when he saw his young friend Denzil Murray, seated -at the breakfast table, apparently enjoying an excellent meal. - -"Hullo, Denzil!" he exclaimed cheerily, "I hardly expected you -down yet. Are you better?" - -"Thanks, I am perfectly well," said Denzil, with a careless air. -"I thought I would breakfast early in order to drive into Cairo -before the day gets too sultry." - -"Into Cairo!" echoed the Doctor. "Why, aren't you going to stay -here a few days?" - -"No, not exactly," answered Denzil, stirring his coffee quickly -and beginning to swallow it in large gulps. "I shall be back to- -night, though. I'm only going just to see my sister and tell her -to prepare for our journey home. I shan't be absent more than a -few hours." - -"I thought you might possibly like to go a little further up the -Nile?" suggested the Doctor. - -"Oh, no, I've had enough of it! You see, when a man proposes to a -woman and gets refused, he can't keep on dangling round that woman -as if he thought it possible she might change her mind." And he -forced a smile. "I've got an appointment with Gervase to-morrow -morning, and I must come back to-night in order to keep it--but -after that I'm off." - -"An appointment with Gervase?" repeated the Doctor, slowly. "What -sort of an appointment?" - -Denzil avoided his keen look. - -"Really, Doctor, you are getting awfully inquisitive!" he -exclaimed with a hard laugh. "You want to know altogether too -much!" - -"Yes, I always do; it is a habit of mine," responded Dr. Dean, -calmly. "But in the present case, it doesn't need much perspicuity -to fathom your mystery. The dullest clod-hopper will tell you he -can see through a millstone when there's a hole in it. And I was -always a good hand at putting two and two together and making four -out of them. You and Gervase are in love with the same woman; the -woman has rejected you and is encouraging Gervase; Gervase, you -think, will on this very night be in the position of the accepted -lover, for which successful fortune, attending him, you, the -rejected one, propose to kill him to-morrow morning if you can, -unless he kills you. And you are going to Cairo to get your -pistols or whatever weapons you have arranged to fight with, and -also to say good-bye to your sister." - -Denzil kept his eyes fixed studiously on the table-cloth and made -no answer. - -"However," continued the Doctor complacently, "you can have it all -your own way as far as I am concerned. I never interfere in these -sort of matters. I should do no good if I attempted it. Besides, I -haven't the slightest anxiety on your behalf--not the slightest. -Waiter, some more coffee, please?" - -"Upon my word!" exclaimed Denzil, with a fretful laugh, "you are a -most extraordinary man, Doctor!" - -"I hope I am!" retorted the Doctor. "To be merely ordinary would -not suit my line of ambition. This is very excellent coffee"--here -he peered into the fresh pot of the fragrant beverage just set -before him. "They make it better here than at the Gezireh Palace. -Well, Denzil, my boy, when you get into Cairo, give my love to -Helen and tell her we'll all go home to the old country together; -I, myself, have got quite enough out of Egypt this time to satisfy -my fondness for new experiences. And let me assure you, my good -fellow, that your proposed duel with Gervase will not come off!" - -"It will come off!" said Denzil, with sudden fierceness. "By -Heaven, it shall!--it must!" - -"More wills than one have the working out of our destinies," -answered Dr. Dean with some gravity. "Man is not by any means -supreme. He imagines he is, but that is only one of his many -little delusions. You think you will have your way; Gervase thinks -he will have his way; I think I will have my way; but as a matter -of fact there is only one person in this affair whose 'way' will -be absolute, and that person is the Princess Ziska. Ce que femme -veut Dieu veut." - -"She has nothing whatever to do with the matter," declared Denzil. - -"Pardon! She has everything to do with it. She is the cause of it -and she knows it. And as I have already told you, your proposed -fight will not come off." And the little Doctor smiled serenely. -"There is your carriage at the door, I suppose. Off with you, my -boy!--be off like a whirlwind, and return here armed to the teeth -if you like! You have heard the expression 'fighting the air'? -That is what you will do tomorrow morning!" - -And apparently in the best of all possible humors, Dr. Dean -accompanied his young friend to the portico of the hotel and -watched him drive off down the stately avenue of palm-trees which -now cast their refreshing shade on the entire route from the -Pyramids to Cairo. When he had fairly gone, the thoughtful savant -surveyed the different tourists who were preparing to ascend the -Pyramids under the escort of their Arab guides, regardless of the -risks they ran of dislocated arms and broken shoulder-bones,--and -in the study of the various odd types thus presented to him, he -found himself fairly well amused. - -"Protoplasm--mere protoplasm!" he murmured. "The germ of soul has -not yet attained to individual consciousness in any one of these -strange bipeds. Their thoughts are as jelly,--their reasoning -powers in embryo,--their intellectual faculties barely -perceptible. Yet they are interesting, viewed in the same light -and considered on the same scale as fish or insects merely. As men -and women of course they are misnomers,--laughable -impossibilities. Well, well!--in the space of two or three -thousand years, the protoplasm may start into form out of the -void, and the fibres of a conscious Intellectuality may sprout,-- -but it will have to be in some other phase of existence--certainly -not in this one. And now to shut myself up and write my memoranda- --for I must not lose a single detail of this singular Egyptian -psychic problem. The whole thing I perceive is rounding itself -towards completion and catastrophe--but in what way? How will it-- -how CAN it end?" - -And with a meditative frown puckering his brows, Dr. Dean folded -his hands behind his back and retired to his own room, from whence -he did not emerge all day. - -Armand Gervase in the meanwhile was making himself the life and -soul of everything at the Mena House Hotel. He struck up an easy -acquaintance with several of the visitors staying there,--said -pretty things to young women and pleasant things to old,--and in -the course of a few hours succeeded in becoming the most popular -personage in the place. He accepted invitations to parties, and -agreed to share in various' excursions, till he engaged himself -for every day in the coming week, and was so gay and gallant and -fascinating in manner and bearing that fair ladies lost their -hearts to him at a glance, and what amusement or pleasure there -was at the Mena House seemed to be doubly enhanced by the mere -fact of his presence. In truth Gervase was in a singular mood of -elation and excitation; a strong inward triumph possessed him and -filled his soul with an imperious pride and sense of conquest -which, for the time being, made him feel as though he were a very -king of men. There was nothing in his nature of the noble -tenderness which makes the lover mentally exalt his beloved as a -queen before whom he is content to submit his whole soul in -worship; what he realized was merely this: that here was one of -the most beautiful and seductive women ever created, in the person -of the Princess Ziska, and that he, Gervase, meant to possess that -loveliest of women, whatever happened in the near or distant -future. Of her, and of the influence of his passion on her -personally, he did not stop to think, except with the curiously -blind egotism which is the heritage of most men, and which led him -to judge that her happiness would in some way or other be enhanced -by his brief and fickle love. For, as a rule, men do not -understand love. They understand desire, amounting sometimes to -merciless covetousness for what they cannot get,--this is a -leading natural characteristic of the masculine nature--but Love-- -love that endures silently and faithfully through the stress of -trouble and the passing of years--love which sacrifices everything -to the beloved and never changes or falters,--this is a divine -passion which seldom or never sanctifies and inspires the life of -a man. Women are not made of such base material; their love -invariably springs first from the Ideal, not the Sensual, and if -afterwards it develops into the sensual, it is through the rough -and coarsening touch of man alone. - -Throughout the entire day the Princess Ziska herself never left -her private apartments, and towards late afternoon Gervase began -to feel the hours drag along with unconscionable slowness and -monotony. Never did the sun seem so slow in sinking; never did the -night appear so far off. When at last dinner was served in the -hotel, both Denzil Murray and Dr. Dean sat next to him at table, -and, judging from outward appearances, the most friendly relations -existed between all three of them. At the close of the meal, -however, Denzil made a sign to Gervase to follow him, and when -they had reached a quiet corner, said: - -"I am aware of your victory; you have won where I have lost. But -you know my intention?" - -"Perfectly!" responded Gervase, with a cool smile. - -"By Heaven!" went on the younger man, in accents of suppressed -fury, "if I yielded to the temptation which besets me when I see -you standing there facing me, with your easy and self-satisfied -demeanor,--when I know that you mean dishonor where I meant -honor,--when you have had the effrontery to confess to me that you -only intend to make the Princess Ziska your mistress when I would -have made her my wife,--God! I could shoot you dead at this -moment!" - -Gervase looked at him steadily, still smiling slightly; then -gradually the smile died away, leaving his countenance shadowed by -an intense melancholy. - -"I can quite enter into your feelings, my dear boy!" he said. "And -do you know, I'm not sure that it would not be a good thing if you -were to shoot me dead! My life is of no particular value to -anybody,--certainly not to myself; and I begin to think I've been -always more or less of a failure. I have won fame, but I have -missed--something--but upon my word, I don't quite know what!" - -He sighed heavily, then suddenly held out his hand. - -"Denzil, the bitterest foes shake hands before fighting each other -to the death, as we propose to do to-morrow; it is a civil custom -and hurts no one, I should like to part kindly from you to-night!" - -Denzil hesitated; then something stronger than himself made him -yield to the impulsive note of strong emotion in his former -friend's voice, and the two men's hands met in a momentary silent -grasp. Then Denzil turned quickly away. - -"To-morrow morning at six," he said, briefly; "close to the -Sphinx." - -"Good!" responded Gervase. "The Sphinx shall second us both and -see fair play. Good-night, Denzil!" - -"Good-night!" responded Denzil, coldly, as he moved on and -disappeared. - -A slight shiver ran through Gervase's blood as he watched him -depart. - -"Odd that I should imagine I have seen the last of him!" he -murmured. "There are strange portents in the air of the desert, I -suppose! Is he going to his death? Or am I going to mine?" - -Again the cold tremor shook him, and combating with his uneasy -sensations, he went to his own apartment, there to await the -expected summons of the Princess. No triumph filled him now; no -sense of joy elated him; a vague fear and dull foreboding were all -the emotions he was conscious of. Even his impatient desire of -love had cooled, and he watched the darkening of night over the -desert, and the stars shining out one by one in the black azure of -the heavens, with a gradually deepening depression. A dreamy sense -stole over him of remoteness or detachment from all visible -things, as though he were suddenly and mysteriously separated from -the rest of humankind by an invisible force which he was powerless -to resist. He was still lost in this vague half-torpor or semi- -conscious reverie, when a light tap startled him back to the -realization of earth and his earthly surroundings. In response to -his "Entrez!" the tall Nubian, whom he had seen in Cairo as the -guardian of the Princess's household, appeared, his repulsive -features looking, if anything, more ghastly and hideous than ever. - -"Madame la Princesse demande votre presence!" said this unlovely -attendant of one of the fairest of women. "Suivez-moi!" - -Without a moment's hesitation or loss of time, Gervase obeyed, and -allowing his guide to precede him at a little distance, followed -him through the corridors of the hotel, out at the hall door and -beyond, through the garden. A clock struck ten as they passed into -the warm evening air, and the mellow rays of the moon were -beginning to whiten the sides of the Great Pyramid. A few of the -people staying in the hotel were lounging about, but these paid no -particular heed to Gervase or his companion. At about two hundred -yards from the entrance of the Mena House, the Nubian stopped and -waited till Gervase came up with him. - -"Madame la Princesse vous aime, Monsieur Gervase!" he said, with a -sarcastic grin. "Mais,--elle veut que l'Amour soit toujours -aveugle! oui, toujours! C'est le destin qui vous appelle,--il faut -soumettre! L'Amour sans yeux! oui!--en fin,--comme ca!" - -And before Gervase could utter a word of protest, or demand the -meaning of this strange proceeding, his arms was suddenly seized -and pinioned behind his back, his mouth gagged, and his eyes -blindfolded. - -"Maintenant," continued the Nubian. "Nous irons ensemble!" - -Choked and mad with rage, Gervase for a few moments struggled -furiously as well as he was able with his powerful captor. All -sorts of ideas surged in his brain: the Princess Ziska might, with -all her beauty and fascination, be nothing but the ruler of a band -of robbers and murderers--who could tell? Yet reason did not -wholly desert him in extremity, for even while he tried to fight -for his liberty he remembered that there was no good to be gained -out of taking him prisoner; he had neither money nor valuables-- -nothing which could excite the cupidity of even a starving -Bedouin. As this thought crossed his brain, he ceased his -struggles abruptly, and stood still, panting for breath, when -suddenly a sound of singing floated towards him: - - "Oh, for the pure cold heart of the Lotus-Lily! - A star above - Is its only love, - And one brief sigh of its scented breath - Is all it will ever know of Death! - Oh, for the passionless heart of the Lotus-Lily!" - -He listened, and all power of resistance ebbed slowly away from -him; he became perfectly passive--almost apathetic--and yielding -to the somewhat rough handling of his guide, allowed himself to be -urged with silent rapidity onward over the thick sand, till he -presently became conscious that he was leaving the fresh open air -and entering a building of some sort, for his feet pressed hard -earth and stone instead of sand. All at once he was forcibly -brought to a standstill, and a heavy rolling noise and clang, like -distant muttered thunder, resounded in his ears, followed by dead -silence. Then his arm was closely grasped again, and he was led -on, on and on, along what seemed to be an interminable distance, -for not a glimmer of light could be seen under the tight folds of -the bandage across his eyes. Presently the earth shook under him,- --some heavy substance was moved, and there was another booming -thunderous noise, accompanied by the falling of chains. - -"C'est l'escalier de Madame la Princesse!" said the Nubian. "Pres -de la chambre nuptiale! Descendez! Vite!" - -Down--down! Resistance was useless, even had he cared to resist, -for he felt as though twenty pairs of hands instead of one were -pushing him violently on all sides; down, still down he went, -dumb, blind and helpless, till at last he was allowed to stop and -breathe. His arms were released, the bandage was taken from his -eyes, the gag from his mouth--he was free! Free--yes! but where? -Thick darkness encompassed him; he stretched out his hands in the -murky atmosphere and felt nothing. - -"Ziska!" he cried. - -The name sprang up against the silence and struck out numberless -echoes, and with the echoes came a shuddering sigh, that was not -of them, whispering: - -"Charmazel!" - -Gervase heard it, and a deadly fear, born of the supernatural, -possessed him. - -"Ziska! Ziska!" he called again wildly. - -"Charmazel!" answered the penetrating unknown voice; and as it -thrilled upon the air like a sob of pain, a dim light began to -shine through the gloom, waveringly at first, then more steadily, -till it gradually spread wide, illuminating with a pale and -spectral light the place in which he found himself,--a place more -weird and wondrous than any mystic scene in dream-land. He -stumbled forward giddily, utterly bewildered, staring about him -like a man in delirium, and speechless with mingled horror and -amazement. He was alone--utterly alone in a vast square chamber, -the walls and roof of which were thickly patterned and glistening -with gold. Squares of gold were set in the very pavement on which -he trod, and at the furthest end of the chamber, a magnificent -sarcophagus of solid gold, encrusted with thousands upon thousands -of jewels, which were set upon it in marvellous and fantastic -devices, glittered and flashed with the hues of living fire. -Golden cups, golden vases, a golden suit of armor, bracelets and -chains of gold intermixed with gems, were heaped up against the -walls and scattered on the floor; and a round shield of ivory -inlaid with gold, together with a sword in a jewelled sheath, were -placed in an upright position against the head of the sarcophagus, -from whence all the spectral and mysterious light seemed to -emerge. With thickly beating heart and faltering pulses Gervase -still advanced, gazing half entranced, half terrified at the -extraordinary and sumptuous splendor surrounding him, muttering -almost unconsciously as he moved along: - -"A king's sepulchre,--a warrior's tomb! How came I here?--and why? -Is this a trysting-place for love as well as death?--and will she -come to me? ..." - -He recoiled suddenly with a violent start, for there, like a -strange Spirit of Evil risen from the ground, leaning against the -great gold sarcophagus, her exquisite form scarcely concealed by -the misty white of her draperies, her dark hair hanging like a -cloud over her shoulders, and her black eyes aflame with wrath, -menace and passion, stood the mysterious Ziska! - - - - -CHAPTER XVI. - - -Stricken dumb with a ghastly supernatural terror which far -exceeded any ordinary sense of fear, he gazed at her, spellbound, -his blood freezing, his very limbs stiffening, for now--now she -looked like the picture he had painted of her; and Death--Death, -livid, tortured and horrible, stared at him skull-wise from the -transparent covering of her exquisitely tinted seeming-human -flesh. Larger and brighter and wilder grew her eyes as she fixed -them on him, and her voice rang through the silence with an -unearthly resonance as she spoke and said: - -"Welcome, my lover, to this abode of love! Welcome to these arms, -for whose embraces your covetous soul has thirsted unappeased! -Take all of me, for I am yours!--aye, so truly yours that you can -never escape me!--never separate from me--no! not through a -thousand thousand centuries! Life of my life! Soul of my soul! -Possess me, as I possess you!--for our two unrepenting spirits -form a dual flame in Hell which must burn on and on to all -eternity! Leap to my arms, master and lord,--king and conqueror! -Here, here!" and she smote her white arms against her whiter -bosom. "Take all your fill of burning wickedness--of cursed joy! -and then--sleep! as you have slept before, these many thousand -years!" - -Still mute and aghast he stared at her; his senses swam, his brain -reeled, and then slowly, like the lifting of a curtain on the last -scene of a dire tragedy, a lightning thought, a scorching memory, -sprang into his mind and overwhelmed him like a rolling wave that -brings death in its track. With a fierce oath he rushed towards -her, and seized her hands in his--hands cold as ice and clammy as -with the dews of the grave. - -"Ziska! Woman! Devil! Speak before you drive me to madness! What -passion moves you thus--what mystic fooling? Into what place have -I been decoyed at your bidding? Why am I brought hither? Speak, -speak!--or I shall murder you!" - -"Nay!" she said, and her slight swaying form dilated and grew till -she seemed to rise up from the very ground and to tower above him -like an enraged demon evoked from mist or flame. "You have done -that once! To murder me twice is beyond your power!" And as she -spoke her hands slipped from his like the hands of a corpse newly -dead. "Never again can you hurl forth my anguished soul unprepared -to the outer darkness of things invisible; never again! For I am -free!--free with an immortal freedom--free to work out repentance -or revenge,--even as Man is free to shape his course for good or -evil. He chooses evil; I choose revenge! What place is this, you -ask?" and with a majestic gliding motion she advanced a little and -pointed upward to the sparkling gold-patterned roof. "Above us, -the Great Pyramid lifts its summit to the stars; and here below,-- -here where you will presently lie, my lover and lord, asleep in -the delicate bosom of love--here..." - -She paused, and a low laugh broke from her lips; then she added -slowly and impressively: - -"Here is the tomb of Araxes!" - -As she spoke, a creeping sense of coldness and horror stole into -his veins like the approach of death,--the strange impressions he -had felt, the haunting and confusing memory he had always had of -her face and voice, the supernatural theories he had lately heard -discussed, all rushed at once upon his mind, and he uttered a loud -involuntary cry. - -"My God! What frenzy is this! A woman's vain trick!--a fool's mad -scheme! What is Araxes to me?--or I to Araxes?" - -"Everything!" replied Ziska, the vindictive demon light in her -eyes blazing with a truly frightful intensity. "Inasmuch as ye are -one and the same! The same dark soul of sin--unpurged, uncleansed -through ages of eternal fire! Sensualist! Voluptuary! Accursed -spirit of the man I loved, come forth from the present Seeming-of- -things! Come forth and cling to me! Cling!--for the whole forces -of a million universes shall not separate us! O Eternal Spirits of -the Dead!" and she lifted her ghostly white arms with a wild -gesture. "Rend ye the veil! Declare to the infidel and unbeliever -the truth of the life beyond death; the life wherein ye and I -dwell and work, clamoring for late justice!" - -Here she sprang forward and caught the arm of Gervase with all the -fierce eagerness of some ravenous bird of prey; and as she did so -he knew her grasp meant death. - -"Remember the days of old, Araxes! Look back, look back from the -present to the past, and remember the crimes that are still -unavenged! Remember the love sought and won!--remember the broken -heart!--remember the ruined life! Remember the triumphs of war!-- -the glories of conquest! Remember the lust of ambition!--the -treachery!--the slaughter!--the blasphemies against high Heaven! -Remember the night of the Feast of Osiris--the Feast of the Sun! -Remember how Ziska-Charmazel awaited her lover, singing alone for -joy, in blind faith and blinder love, his favorite song of the -Lotus-Lily! The moon was high, as it is now!--the stars glittered -above the Pyramids, as they glitter now!--in the palace there was -the sound of music and triumph and laughter, and a whisper on the -air of the fickle heart and changeful mood of Araxes; of another -face which charmed him, though less fair than that of Ziska- -Charmazel! Remember, remember!" and she clung closer and closer as -he staggered backward half suffocated by his own emotions and the -horror of her touch. "Remember the fierce word!--the quick and -murderous blow!--the plunge of the jewelled knife up to the hilt -in the passionate white bosom of Charmazel!--the lonely anguish in -which she died! Died,--but to live again and pursue her murderer!- --to track him down to his grave wherein the king strewed gold, and -devils strewed curses!--down, down to the end of all his glory and -conquest into the silence of yon gold-encrusted clay! And out of -silence again into sound and light and fire, ever pursuing, I have -followed--followed through a thousand phases of existence!--and I -will follow still through limitless space and endless time, till -the great Maker of this terrible wheel of life Himself shall say, -'Stop! Here ends even the law of vengeance!' Oh, for ten thousand -centuries more in which to work my passion and prove my wrong! All -the treasure of love despised!--all the hope of a life betrayed!-- -all the salvation of heaven denied! Tremble, Soul of Araxes!--for -hate is eternal, as love is eternal!--the veil is down, and Memory -stings!" - -She turned her face, now spectral and pallid as a waning moon, up -to him; her form grew thin and skeleton-like, while still -retaining the transparent outline of its beauty; and he realized -at last that no creature of flesh and blood was this that clung to -him, but some mysterious bodiless horror of the Supernatural, -unguessed at by the outer world of men! The dews of death stood -thick on his forehead; there was a straining agony at his heart, -and his breath came in quick convulsive gasps; but worse than his -physical torture was the overwhelming and convincing truth of the -actual existence of the Spiritual Universe, now so suddenly and -awfully revealed. What he had all his life denied was now declared -a certainty; where he had been deaf and blind, he now heard and -saw. Ziska! Ziska-Charmazel! In very truth he knew he remembered -her; in very truth he knew he had loved her; in very truth he knew -he had murdered her! But another still stranger truth was forcing -itself upon him now; and this was, that the old love of the old -old days was arising within him in all its strength once more, and -that he loved her still! Unreal and terrible as it seemed, it was -nevertheless a fact, that as he gazed upon her tortured face, her -beautiful anguished eyes, her phantom form, he felt that he would -give his own soul to rescue hers and lift her from the coils of -vengeance into love again! Her words awoke vibrating pulsations of -thought, long dormant in the innermost recesses of his spirit, -which, like so many dagger-thrusts, stabbed him with a myriad -recollections; and as a disguising cloak may fall from the figure -of a friend in a masquerade, so his present-seeming personality -dropped from him and no longer had any substance. He recognized -himself as Araxes--always the same Soul passing through a myriad -changes,--and all the links of his past and present were suddenly -welded together in one unbroken chain, stretching over thousands -of years, every link of which he was able to count, mark, and -recognize. By the dreadful light of that dumb comprehension which -flashes on all parting souls at the moment of dissolution, he -perceived at last that not the Body but the Spirit is the central -secret of life,--not deeds, but thoughts evolve creation. Death? -That was a name merely; there was no death,--only a change into -some other form of existence. What change--what form would be his -now? This thought startled him--roused him,--and once again the -low spirit-voice of his long-ago betrayed and murdered love -thrilled in his ears: - -"Soul of Araxes, cling to my soul!--for this present life is -swiftly passing! No more scorn of the Divine can stand whither we -are speeding, for the Terrible and Eternal Truth overshadows us -and our destinies! Closed are the gates of Heaven,--open wide are -the portals of Hell! Enter with me, my lover Araxes!--die as I -died, unprepared and alone! Die, and pass out into new life again- --such life as mine--such torture as mine--such despair as mine-- -such hate as mine! ..." - -She ceased abruptly, for he, convinced now of the certainty of -Immortality, was suddenly moved to a strange access of courage and -resolution. Something sweet and subtle stirred in him,--a sense of -power,--a hint of joy, which completely overcame all dread of -death. Old love revived, grew stronger in his soul, and his gaze -rested on the shadowy form beside him, no longer with horror but -with tenderness. She was Ziska-Charmazel,--she had been his love-- -the dearest portion of his life--once in the far-off time; she had -been the fairest of women--and more than fair, she had been -faithful! Yes, he remembered that, as he remembered Her! Every -curve in her beautiful body had been a joy for him alone; and for -him alone her lips, sweet and fresh as rosebuds, had kept their -kisses. She had loved him as few women have either heart or -strength to love, and he had rewarded her fidelity by death and -eternal torment! A struggling cry escaped him, and he stretched -out his arms: - -"Ziska! Forgive--forgive!" - -As he uttered the words, he saw her wan face suddenly change,--all -the terror and torture passed from it like a passing cloud,-- -beautiful as an angel's, it smiled upon him,--the eyes softened -and flashed with love, the lips trembled, the spectral form glowed -with a living luminance, and a mystic Glory glittered above the -dusky hair! Filled with ecstasy at the sight of her wondrous -loveliness, he felt nothing of the coldness of death at his -heart,--a divine passion inspired him, and with the last effort of -his failing strength he strove to gather all the spirit-like -beauty of her being into his embrace. - -"Love--Love!" he cried. "Not Hate, but Love! Come back out of the -darkness, soul of the woman I wronged! Forgive me! Come back to -me! Hell or Heaven, what matters it if we are together! Come to -me,--come! Love is stronger than Hate!" - -Speech failed him; the cold agony of death gripped at his heart -and struck him mute, but still he saw the beautiful passionate -eyes of a forgiving Love turned gloriously upon him like stars in -the black chaos whither he now seemed rushing. Then came a solemn -surging sound as of great wings beating on a tempestuous air, and -all the light in the tomb was suddenly extinguished. One instant -more he stood upright in the thick darkness; then a burning knife -seemed plunged into his breast, and he reeled forward and fell, -his last hold on life being the consciousness that soft arms were -clasping him and drawing him away--away--he knew not whither--and -that warm lips, sweet and tender, were closely pressed on his. And -presently, out of the heavy gloom came a Voice which said: - -"Peace! The old gods are best, and the law is made perfect. A life -demands a life. Love's debt must be paid by Love! The woman's soul -forgives; the man's repents,--wherefore they are both released -from bondage and the memory of sin. Let them go hence, the curse -is lifted!" - -* * * * - -Once more the wavering ghostly light gave luminance to the -splendor of the tomb, and showed where, fallen sideways among the -golden treasures and mementoes of the past, lay the dead body of -Armand Gervase. Above him gleamed the great jewelled sarcophagus; -and within touch of his passive hand was the ivory shield and -gold-hilted sword of Araxes. The spectral radiance gleamed, -wandered and flitted over all things,--now feebly, now -brilliantly,--till finally flashing with a pale glare on the dark -dead face, with the proud closed lips and black level brows, it -flickered out; and one of the many countless mysteries of the -Great Pyramid was again hidden in impenetrable darkness. - -* * * * - -Vainly Denzil Marray waited next morning for his rival to appear. -He paced up and down impatiently, watching the rosy hues of -sunrise spreading over the wide desert and lighting up the massive -features of the Sphinx, till as hour after hour passed and still -Gervase did not come, he hurried back to the Mena House Hotel, and -meeting Dr. Maxwell Dean on the way, to him poured out his rage -and perplexity. - -"I never thought Gervase was a coward!" he said hotly. - -"Nor should you think so now," returned the Doctor, with a grave -and preoccupied air. "Whatever his faults, cowardice was not one -of them. You see, I speak of him in the past tense. I told you -your intended duel would not come off, and I was right. Denzil, I -don't think you will ever see either Armand Gervase or the -Princess Ziska again." - -Denzil started violently. - -"What do you mean? The Princess is here,--here in this very -house." - -"Is she?" and Dr. Dean sighed somewhat impatiently. "Well, let us -see!" Then, turning to a passing waiter, he inquired: "Is the -Princess Ziska here still?" - -"No, sir. She left quite suddenly late last night; going on to -Thebes, I believe, sir." - -The Doctor looked meaningly at Denzil. - -"You hear?" - -But Denzil in his turn was interrogating the waiter. - -"Is Mr. Gervase in his room?" - -"No, sir. He went out about ten o'clock yesterday evening, and I -don't think he is coming back. One of the Princess Ziska's -servants--the tall Nubian whom you may have noticed, sir--brought -a message from him to say that his luggage was to be sent to -Paris, and that the money for his bill would be found on his -dressing-table. It was all right, of course, but we thought it -rather curious." - -And glancing deferentially from one to the other of his -questioners with a smile, the waiter went on his way. - -"They have fled together!" said Denzil then, in choked accents of -fury. "By Heaven, if I had guessed the plan already formed in his -treacherous mind, I would never have shaken hands with Gervase -last night!" - -"Oh, you did shake hands?" queried Dr. Dean, meditatively. "Well, -there was no harm in that. You were right. You and Gervase will -meet no more in this life, believe me! He and the Princess Ziska -have undoubtedly, as you say, fled together--but not to Thebes!" - -He paused a moment, then laid his hand kindly on Denzil's -shoulder. - -"Let us go back to Cairo, my boy, and from thence as soon as -possible to England. We shall all be better away from this -terrible land, where the dead have far more power than the -living!" - -Denzil stared at him uncomprehendingly. - -"You talk in riddles!" he said, irritably. "Do you think I shall -let Gervase escape me? I will track him wherever he has gone,--I -daresay I shall find him in Paris." - -Dr. Dean took one or two slow turns up and down the corridor where -they were conversing, then stopping abruptly, looked his young -friend full and steadily in the eyes. - -"Come, come, Denzil. No more of this folly," he said, gently. "Why -should you entertain these ideas of vengeance against Gervase? He -has really done you no harm. He was the natural mate of the woman -you imagined you loved,--the response to her query,--the other -half of her being; and that she was and is his destiny, and he -hers, should not excite your envy or hatred. I say you IMAGINED -you loved the Princess Ziska,--it was a young man's hot freak of -passion for an almost matchless beauty, but no more than that. And -if you would be frank with yourself, you know that passion has -already cooled. I repeat, you will never see Gervase or the -Princess Ziska again in this life; so make the best of it." - -"Perhaps you have assisted him to escape me!" said Denzil -frigidly. - -Dr. Dean smiled. - -"That's rather a rough speech, Denzil! But never mind!" he -returned. "Your pride is wounded, and you are still sore. Suspect -me as you please,--make me out a new Pandarus, if you like--I -shall not be offended. But you know--for I have often told you-- -that I never interfere in love matters. They are too explosive, -too vitally dangerous; outsiders ought never to meddle with them. -And I never do. Come back with me to Cairo. And when we are once -more safely established on the solid and unromantic isles of -Britain, you will forget all about the Princess Ziska; or if you -do remember her, it will only be as a dream in the night, a kind -of vague shadow and uncertainty, which will never seriously -trouble your mind. You look incredulous. I tell you at your age -love is little more than a vision; you must wait a few years yet -before it becomes a reality, and then Heaven help you, Denzil!-- -for you will be a troublesome fellow to deal with! Meanwhile, let -us get back to Cairo and see Helen." - -Somewhat soothed by the Doctor's good-nature, and a trifle ashamed -of his wrath, Denzil yielded, and the evening saw them both back -at the Gezireh Palace Hotel, where of course the news of the -sudden disappearance of Armand Gervase with the Princess Ziska -created the utmost excitement. Helen Murray shivered and grew pale -as death when she heard it; lively old Lady Fulkeward simpered and -giggled, and declared it was "the most delightful thing she had -ever heard of!"--an elopement in the desert was "so exquisitely -romantic!" Sir Chetwynd Lyle wrote a conventional and stilted -account of it for his paper, and ponderously opined that the -immorality of Frenchmen was absolutely beyond any decent -journalist's powers of description. Lady Chetwynd Lyle, on the -contrary, said that the "scandal" was not the fault of Gervase; it -was all "that horrid woman," who had thrown herself at his head. -Ross Courtney thought the whole thing was "queer;" and young Lord -Fulkeward said there was something about it he didn't quite -understand,--something "deep," which his aristocratic quality of -intelligence could not fathom. And society talked and gossiped -till Paris and London caught the rumor, and the name of the famous -French artist, who had so strangely vanished from the scene of his -triumphs with a beautiful woman whom no one had ever heard of -before, was soon in everybody's mouth. No trace of him or of the -Princess Ziska could be discovered; his portmanteau contained no -letters or papers,--nothing but a few clothes; his paint-box and -easel were sent on to his deserted studio in Paris, and also a -blank square of canvas, on which, as Dr. Dean and others knew, had -once been the curiously-horrible portrait of the Princess. But -that appalling "first sketch" was wiped out and clean gone as -though it had never been painted, and Dr. Dean called Denzil's -attention to the fact. But Denzil thought nothing of it, as he -imagined that Gervase himself had obliterated it before leaving -Cairo. - -A few of the curious among the gossips went to see the house the -Princess had lately occupied, where she had "received" society and -managed to shock it as well. It was shut up, and looked as if it -had not been inhabited for years. And the gossips said it was -"strange, very strange!" and confessed themselves utterly -mystified. But the fact remained that Gervase had disappeared and -the Princess Ziska with him. "However," said Society, "they can't -possibly hide themselves for long. Two such remarkable -personalities are bound to appear again somewhere. I daresay we -shall come across them in Paris or on the Riviera. The world is -much too small for the holding of a secret." - -And presently, with the approach of spring, and the gradual break- -up of the Cairo "season," Denzil Murray and his sister sailed from -Alexandria en route for Venice. Dr. Dean accompanied them; so did -the Fulkewards and Ross Courtney. The Chetwynd-Lyles went by a -different steamer, "old" Lady Fulkeward being quite too much for -the patience of those sweet but still unengaged "girls" Muriel and -Dolly. One night when the great ship was speeding swiftly over a -calm sea, and Denzil, lost in sorrowful meditation, was gazing out -over the trackless ocean with pained and passionate eyes which -could see nothing but the witching and exquisite beauty of the -Princess Ziska, now possessed and enjoyed by Gervase, Dr. Dean -touched him on the arm and said: - -"Denzil, have you ever read Shakespeare?" - -Denzil started and forced a smile. - -"Why, yes, of course!" - -"Then you know the lines-- - - 'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are -dreamt of in your philosophy?' - -The Princess Ziska was one of those 'things.'" - -Denzil regarded him in wonderment. - -"What do you mean?" - -"Oh, of course, you will think me insane," said the Doctor, -resignedly. "People always take refuge in thinking that those who -tell them uncomfortable truths are lunatics. You've heard me talk -of ghosts?--ghosts that walk and move about us like human beings?- --and they are generally very brilliant and clever impersonations -of humanity, too--and that nevertheless are NOT human?" - -Denzil assented. - -"The Princess Ziska was a ghost!" concluded the Doctor, folding -his arms very tightly across his chest and nodding defiantly. - -"Nonsense!" cried Denzil. "You are mad!" - -"Precisely the remark I thought you would make!" and Dr. Dean -unfolded his arms again and smiled triumphantly. "Therefore, my -dear boy, let us for the future avoid this subject. I know what I -know; I can distinguish phantoms from reality, and I am not -deceived by appearances. But the world prefers ignorance to -knowledge, and even so let it be. Next time I meet a ghost I'll -keep my own counsel!" He paused a moment,--then added: "You -remember I told you I was hunting down that warrior of old time, -Araxes?" - -Denzil nodded, a trifle impatiently. - -"Well," resumed the Doctor slowly,--"Before we left Egypt I found -him! But how I found him, and where, is my secret!" - -Society still speaks occasionally of Armand Gervase, and wonders -in its feeble way when he will be "tired" of the Egyptian beauty -he ran away with, or she of him. Society never thinks very far or -cares very much for anything long, but it does certainly expect to -see the once famous French artist "turn up" suddenly, either in -his old quarters in Paris, or in one or the other of the -fashionable resorts of the Riviera. That he should be dead has -never occurred to anyone, except perhaps Dr. Maxwell Dean. But Dr. -Dean has grown extremely reticent--almost surly; and never answers -any questions concerning his Scientific Theory of Ghosts, a work -which, when published, created a great deal of excitement, owing -to its singularity and novelty of treatment. There was the usual -"hee-hawing" from the donkeys in the literary pasture, who fondly -imagined their brayings deserved to be considered in the light of -serious opinion;--and then after a while the book fell into the -hands of scientists only,--men who are beginning to understand the -discretion of silence, and to hold their tongues as closely as the -Egyptian priests of old did, aware that the great majority of men -are never ripe for knowledge. Quite lately Dr. Dean attended two -weddings,--one being that of "old" Lady Fulkeward, who has married -a very pretty young fellow of five-and-twenty, whose dearest -consideration in life is the shape of his shirt-collar; the other, -that of Denzil Murray, who has wedded the perfectly well-born, -well-bred and virtuous, if somewhat cold-blooded, daughter of his -next-door neighbor in the Highlands. Concerning his Egyptian -experience he never speaks,--he lives the ordinary life of the -Scottish land-owner, looking after his tenantry, considering the -crops, preserving the game, and clearing fallen timber;--and if -the glowing face of the beautiful Ziska ever floats before his -memory, it is only in a vague dream from which he quickly rouses -himself with a troubled sigh. His sister Helen has never married. -Lord Fulkeward proposed to her but was gently rejected, whereupon -the disconsolate young nobleman took a journey to the States and -married the daughter of a millionaire oil-merchant instead. Sir -Chetwynd Lyle and his pig-faced spouse still thrive and grow fat -on the proceeds of the Daily Dial, and there is faint hope that -one of their "girls" will wed an aspiring journalist,--a bold -adventurer who wants "a share in the paper" somehow, even if he -has to marry Muriel or Dolly in order to get it. Ross Courtney is -the only man of the party once assembled at the Gezireh Palace -Hotel who still goes to Cairo every winter, fascinated thither by -an annually recurring dim notion that he may "discover traces" of -the lost Armand Gervase and the Princess Ziska. And he frequently -accompanies the numerous sight-seers who season after season drive -from Cairo to the Pyramids, and take pleasure in staring at the -Sphinx with all the impertinence common to pigmies when -contemplating greatness. But more riddles than that of the Sphinx -are lost in the depths of the sandy desert; and more unsolved -problems lie in the recesses of the past than even the restless -and inquiring spirit of modern times will ever discover;--and if -it should ever chance that in days to come, the secret of the -movable floor of the Great Pyramid should be found, and the lost -treasures of Egypt brought to light, there will probably be much -discussion and marvel concerning the Golden Tomb of Araxes. For -the hieroglyphs on the jewelled sarcophagus speak of him thus and -say:-- - -"Araxes was a Man of Might, far exceeding in Strength and Beauty -the common sons of men. Great in War, Invincible in Love, he did -Excel in Deeds of Courage and of Conquest,--and for whatsoever -Sins he did in the secret Weakness of humanity commit, the Gods -must judge him. But in all that may befit a Warrior, Amenhotep The -King doth give him honor,--and to the Spirits of Darkness and of -Light his Soul is here commended to its Rest." - -Thus much of the fierce dead hero of old time,--but of the -mouldering corpse that lies on the golden floor of the same tomb, -its skeleton hand touching, almost grasping, the sword of Araxes, -what shall be said? Nothing--since the Old and the New, the Past -and the Present, are but as one moment in the countings of -eternity, and even with a late repentance Love pardons all. - - - - -FINIS. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Ziska, by Marie Corelli - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ZISKA *** - -This file should be named ziska10.txt or ziska10.zip -Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, ziska11.txt -VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, ziska10a.txt - -Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. - -Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US -unless a copyright notice is included. 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