Part 17 (2/2)
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 a.s.sembled 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 fas.h.i.+on 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 superst.i.tious 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, extinguis.h.i.+ng 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 antic.i.p.ation 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 m.u.f.fled, dreamy manner, playing a music which had nothing of melody in it, and which yet vaguely suggested a pa.s.sionate 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!
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