"Tell me what it is you want," I cried in Arabic, "and quickly, or I fire."
He did not speak, but very slowly he moved towards me. I raised the pistol. "Stop," I said. He did not stop. "Then have it!" I cried, and pulled the trigger.
He did not flinch12 from the blistering13 flash of the discharge. It seemed to me that it should have seared his face and that the bullet should have split his skull14. I had a momentary15 glimpse of a ghastly, brownish-yellow visage and of two dull widely separated eyes peering into mine. Then all was dark again and I was struggling as never I had struggled in my life before. Long, stiff fingers clutched my throat. A rigid16 wood-like form was pressed against my own and my nostrils17 were filled with a sickly penetrating18 odour which I all too sharply recognised. It was the perfume that had issued from the sarcophagus of Ptahmes when I drove my chisel19 through the lead. At first I grasped nothing but air.[Pg 64] But clutching wildly at the things that gripped my throat, I caught hands at last composed of bone. There was no flesh on them, or so it seemed to me. Yet it was good to grip something. It gave me heart. I had a horrible feeling for some awful seconds of contending with the supernatural. But those hands were hard and firm. They compressed my windpipe. Back and fro we writhed20. I heard nothing but my own hard breathing. I was being slowly strangled. It was very hard to drag those hands apart. But I am strong, stronger than many men who earn their living by exhibiting to the vulgar feats21 of strength. Impelled22 by fear of death, I exerted my reserve of force, and driving will and muscle into one supreme23 united effort I tore the death grip from my neck and flung the Arab off. Uttering a sobbing24 howl of relief and rage, I followed him and caught him by the middle. Then stooping low, I heaved him high and dashed him to the ground. There came a sound of snapping wood or bones, but neither sigh nor cry of any sort. "We'll see," I growled25, and struck a match. The sand before me was dinted, but deserted27. The Arab had vanished. My senses rocked in horrified28 astonishment29. My flesh crept. A cold chill of vague unreasoning terror caught me. I listened, all my nerves taut30 strained, peering wildly round into the dark. But the silence was unbroken. Nothing was to be heard, nothing was to be seen. Were it not for the dinted sand and the marks of feet other than my[Pg 65] own where we had stepped and struggled, I could have come to the conclusion I had dreamed. After a while spent in soothing31 panic fears, I sneaked32 off to my baggage and extracted from the pile a candle lamp. This I lighted and, returning, searched the sands on hands and knees. The stranger's footprints were longer than my own and they were toe-marked. Plainly, then, he had stolen on me naked-footed. Looking wide around the dint26 made by his falling body I came presently upon some more of them. They were each a yard apart, and led towards the Hill of Rakh. Yet only for a little while. Soon they grew fainter and fainter. Finally they disappeared. Tortured by the mystery of it all, I halted where the footprints vanished and, putting out the lamp, squatted33 on the ground to wait for dawn. It came an hour later, but it told me nothing fresh. Indeed, it only rendered the riddle34 more intolerably maddening. Where had my Arab gone? And how had he come? For there was not a single footprint leading to the camp. Of course he might have thrown a cloak before him on which to walk; and thus he might have progressed and left no trace. But wherefore such extraordinary caution? And why should he be so anxious to conceal35 himself? It was hard to give up the riddle, but easier to abandon than to solve it. Calling philosophy to my aid and imagination, I determined36 that my Arab was some mad hermit37 upon whose solitude38 Ottley had intruded39 in the first[Pg 66] instance, and I in the second. And that he had conceived a particular animosity for some unknown reason against my humble40 self and wished to kill me. Without a doubt, he had some secret hiding-place and feared lest I should seek to discover it. Perhaps he had found some treasure of which he had constituted himself the jealous guardian41. I felt sure, at any rate, that he was mad. His actions had always been so peculiar42 and his speechlessness so baffling and astonishing and crassly43 unreasonable44. But he or someone had killed my donkey. I found the poor beast lying in a hollow, dead as C?sar. A knife had been employed, a long, sharp-pointed knife—perhaps a sword. It had searched out the creature's heart and pierced it. I made a hasty autopsy45 in order to be sure. The circumstance was most exasperating46. It condemned47 me to the task of being my own beast of burthen. And the load was not a light one. I made, however, the best of a bad job, and having fortified48 myself with a good breakfast, I started off laden49 like a pack-horse for the Hill of Rakh. Having covered four miles, I stopped. Miss Ottley and Captain Frankfort Weldon had suddenly come into view. They were mounted. I sat down on my baggage, lighted a cigarette and waited. Common elementary Christian50 charity would compel them to offer me a lift. It was a good thought. It is not right that a man should work like a beast. And, besides, it was cheering to see Miss Ottley[Pg 67] again. She came up looking rather care-worn and a good deal surprised. I arose and doffed51 my hat like a courtier. Captain Weldon touched his helmet with his whip by way of salute52. He might have just stepped out of a bandbox. I felt he did not like me. The girl looked at me with level brows.
"Sir Robert well and strong again?" I asked.
"Quite," said Miss Ottley.
"We were on our way to pay you a visit," observed the Captain.
"Sir Robert wants me," I hazarded.
Miss Ottley shrugged53 her shoulders. "Does he?" she asked, then added with a tinge54 of irony55, "You seem content to be one of those who are always neglected until a need arises for their services. Does it appear impossible that we might have contemplated56 a friendly call?"
"I have no parlour tricks," I explained.
Her lip curled. "You need not tell me. You left without troubling to bid me as much as a good-day. How long ago? Three weeks. Why?" Her tone was really imperious.
"But I left a benediction57 on the doorstep," I responded. "You looked cross and I was in a hurry."
Her eyes blazed; they were beautiful to see. "Where are you going?" she demanded.
"To call on your father."
"You have a load," observed the Captain.
[Pg 68]
"Is not that a tent?"
"I am shifting camp."
"That nigger chap—Yazouk—came along last evening. But he vanished during the night. We fancied something might have happened."
"What!" shouted the Captain.
"A superstitious60 creature," I shrugged.
The Captain shook with laughter. "We wondered how you had tamed him," he chuckled61 presently—"after the bout11. 'Pon honour, you served him very prettily62. Straight from the shoulder and savate, too. The dragoman declares you have the evil eye."
"Have you lost your donkey, Dr. Pinsent?" demanded Miss Ottley.
"He expired suddenly last evening."
Captain Weldon frowned and sat up very straight in his saddle.
"Eh?" he said and looked a question.
"I had an Arab visitor. My visitor or another killed my donkey with a knife. I should like to have caught him in the act."
"My dream," said Miss Ottley, and caught her breath.
"By Jove," said the Captain, "it is really wonderful—but wait—you had a visitor, Doctor?"
"I believe it."
"Did he offer to attack you?"
[Pg 69]
"A lunatic of an Arab," I retorted, "and so little of a spirit that I had hard work to prevent him throttling64 me."
"But the face. Did you see the face?"
"Our friend of the cavern," I admitted.
Miss Ottley glanced at the Captain, then back at me. She was as white as a lily.
"I knew it," she said. "I saw him kill the donkey and steal upon you—in a dream. His hands were bloody—and, look, there is blood still on your throat."
"My cask was empty, so perforce I could not wash," I murmured. The Captain looked thunderstruck. "It's the most wonderful thing," he kept repeating, "the most wonderful thing in the world."
"And I never thought of looking in the mirror. It was packed up," I went on. I took out a rather grimy kerchief and began to rub at my neck.
"Has that wretched Arab—worried you at all—since I left, Miss Ottley?"
"I have seen him twice—and once more" (she shuddered) "in my dream."
"And where did you see him out of dreams?"
"Once in the cavern and once in my father's tent. Each time at night. Each time he vanished like a shadow."
"Did anyone else see him?"
"My father and Captain Weldon."
"The most hideous65 brute66 I ever saw," commented[Pg 70] the Captain; "you could put a good-sized head between his eyes. And such eyes. Dull as mud, but horribly intelligent."
"Well, well," said I. "We'll know more about him some day soon, perhaps, that is, if we stay long enough at the Hill of Rakh. He has a hiding thereabouts—without a doubt. Your father is pining to open the tomb of Ptahmes, I suppose, Miss Ottley?"
"He has opened it," she answered.
The girl was looking at me hard. "You are surprised?"
"Curious," I growled. It was hard to say, for I was furious.
"I cannot enlighten your curiosity," she said.
"No?"
"He permitted no one to be present to assist him. It took place the day before yesterday in the cave temple. And the tomb is now closed again."
"And Sir Robert?"
"You will find my father greatly changed, Dr. Pinsent."
"Indeed."
"He seems to be quite strong, but he has aged70 notably71, and he will hardly condescend72 to converse73 with anyone, even me. Moreover, the subject of[Pg 71] Ptahmes is tabooed. The very name enrages74 him. Dr. Belleville has forbidden it to be mentioned in his hearing."
"Humph!" said I. "If my donkey were alive I should go to Kwansu straight. But as it is I shall have to trespass75 for a stretch on your preserves at Rakh. I hate it, too, for your father has broken faith with me."
"Ah!" cried the girl. "He promised that you should help him open the tomb."
"Exactly."
"You must not be hard on him. I believe that he is not quite himself."
"Oh! I am accustomed to that sort of treatment from the Ottleys," I replied.
It was brutal76 beyond question, but I was past reckoning on niceties with rage. Captain Weldon turned scarlet77 and raised his whip. "Dr. Pinsent," he cried, "you forget yourself. For two pins——" then he stopped—having met my eyes. I laughed in his face. "Why not?" I queried78 jibingly. "It would be not only chivalrous—a lady looking on—but safe. Have you ever seen a St. Bernard hurt a spaniel?"
He went deathly and slashed79 me with his whip. Poor boy. I never blamed him. I'd have done the same myself. As for me, the blow descended80 and cooled my beastly temper, which was an unmitigated blessing81. I took his whip away and gave it back to him. Then I laughed out, tickled82 at the[Pg 72] humour of the situation, though it only told against myself. "I had intended accepting your offer of your mule83 for my belongings," I chuckled. "You haven't offered him, but that's a detail. And now I can't." I shook with laughter.
He was a generous youngster. "And forgive me!" he said. "If you can—it was a coward blow."
"Gladly I'll forgive you," I replied, and we clasped hands.
"I'll help you load the beast," said he.
But I put my foot on my baggage. "That mule," I said, "belongs to Sir Robert Ottley. I'll not risk the breaking of his back."
We looked at one another and I saw the Captain understood me. He turned rather sheepishly away, but did not mount immediately.
Miss Ottley was gazing over the desert. "You must know you are behaving like a child," she cuttingly remarked.
I shook my head at the Captain. "That means you are keeping a lady waiting," I observed.
He smiled wrily in spite of himself. "Scottish, are you not?" he asked.
"From Aberdeen."
He climbed on the mule's back. "I'm thinking Dr. Pinsent would like to be alone," he said.
Miss Ottley nodded and they rode off together.[Pg 73] I picked up my swag and trudged85 after them. It was dry work. About twenty minutes later Miss Ottley rode back alone. She did not beat about the bush at all.
"I want you to put your things on my donkey," she said; and slipping afoot, she stood in my path.
"Not to-day," said I.
"But I'm in trouble, I need your help," she muttered.
"With such a cavalier as Frankfort Weldon?" I inquired.
She coloured.
"And Dr. Belleville. Old friends both, I am led to fancy."
She bit her lips.
"And both of them in love with you," I went on bluntly.
"Dr. Pinsent," said Miss Ottley, "it is my opinion that my father is not quite right in his mind."
"Dr. Belleville is a F. R. C. S.," said I.
"I am afraid of him—my own father," she said, in a tragic86 tone. "I have a feeling that he hates me, that he wants to—to destroy me."
"Captain Weldon would lay down his life for you, I think," said I.
She put a hand on my breast and looked me straight in the eye. "I could not tell this to Dr. Belleville, nor to the other," she half whispered.
I thrilled all over. "All right," I said, cheerily.[Pg 74] "Just stand aside till I load your little beastie, will you?"
Her whole face lighted up. "Ah! I knew you would not desert me," she said.
But we did not speak again all the way to the Hill of Rakh. We were too busy thinking; the two of us. When we arrived she flitted off, still silent. Captain Weldon came to me. "I want you to share my tent," said he. "I have a tub for you in waiting, and some fresh linen87 laid out, if you'll honour me by wearing it."
"You are a brick," I replied, and took his arm. But at the door of the biggest tent in the whole camp to which he brought me I paused in wonder. It was a sort of lady's bower88 within. The floor was laid with rugs, and the sloped canvas walls were hung with silken frills; and women's photographs littered the fold-up dressing-table. They were all of the same face, though, those latter; the face of Miss Ottley.
"Sybarite!" I cried.
"But your gallery has only one goddess," I commented, pointing to a picture.
He gave a shame-faced little laugh. "You see, Doctor, I have the happiness to be engaged to marry Miss Ottley," he explained. Then he left me to my tub.
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1
stele
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| n.石碑，石柱 | |
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unearthed
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| 出土的（考古） | |
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denizens
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| n.居民，住户( denizen的名词复数 ) | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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doze
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| v.打瞌睡；n.打盹，假寐 | |
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awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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7
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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craving
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| n.渴望,热望 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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flinch
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| v.畏缩，退缩 | |
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blistering
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| adj.酷热的；猛烈的；使起疱的；可恶的v.起水疱；起气泡；使受暴晒n.[涂料] 起泡 | |
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14
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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18
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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19
chisel
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| n.凿子；v.用凿子刻，雕，凿 | |
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writhed
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| （因极度痛苦而）扭动或翻滚( writhe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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feats
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| 功绩，伟业，技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
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impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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23
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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24
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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25
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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26
dint
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| n.由于，靠；凹坑 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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taut
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| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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sneaked
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| v.潜行( sneak的过去式和过去分词 )；偷偷溜走；（儿童向成人）打小报告；告状 | |
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33
squatted
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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riddle
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| n.谜，谜语，粗筛；vt.解谜，给…出谜，筛，检查，鉴定，非难，充满于；vi.出谜 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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hermit
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| n.隐士，修道者；隐居 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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intruded
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| n.侵入的，推进的v.侵入，侵扰，打扰( intrude的过去式和过去分词 )；把…强加于 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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41
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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42
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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43
crassly
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| adv.粗鲁地，愚钝地 | |
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44
unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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45
autopsy
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| n.尸体解剖；尸检 | |
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46
exasperating
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| adj. 激怒的 动词exasperate的现在分词形式 | |
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47
condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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48
fortified
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| adj. 加强的 | |
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49
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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50
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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51
doffed
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| v.脱去，（尤指）脱帽( doff的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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53
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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54
tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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55
irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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56
contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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57
benediction
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| n.祝福；恩赐 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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hyena
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| n.土狼，鬣狗 | |
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superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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61
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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prettily
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| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
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63
cavern
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| n.洞穴，大山洞 | |
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64
throttling
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| v.扼杀( throttle的现在分词 )；勒死；使窒息；压制 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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67
perjurer
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| n.伪誓者，伪证者 | |
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unaware
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| a.不知道的，未意识到的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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notably
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| adv.值得注意地，显著地，尤其地，特别地 | |
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condescend
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| v.俯就，屈尊；堕落，丢丑 | |
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converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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enrages
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| 使暴怒( enrage的第三人称单数 ) | |
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trespass
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| n./v.侵犯，闯入私人领地 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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slashed
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| v.挥砍( slash的过去式和过去分词 )；鞭打；割破；削减 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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tickled
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| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
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mule
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| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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bower
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| n.凉亭，树荫下凉快之处；闺房；v.荫蔽 | |
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winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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