Part 24 (1/2)
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 p.r.o.nounce 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?”