Part 25 (1/2)
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 s.h.i.+ver 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 s.h.i.+ning 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 pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.sionless heart of the Lotus-Lily!”
He listened, and all power of resistance ebbed slowly away from him; he became perfectly pa.s.sive--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 pus.h.i.+ng 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 encompa.s.sed 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!”