Part 14 (1/2)

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 a.s.sure 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 a.s.sistant 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!”