She raised herself on tiptoe, for Hugh Tankerville is very tall, and British, and stiff-backed. There was a curious, half-dazed look in his eyes as he looked down at the sweet face turned up to his. The veil had slipped down from her shoulders. The quaint Egyptian kalasiris, half transparent and clinging, gave her young figure the appearance of one of those precious idols which are preserved in European museums. A perfume of lotus blossom seemed to emanate from her, and about her whole being there was an exquisite savour of poetry and mysticism, mingled with truly human, charming womanhood.
For that brief moment I felt wildly, madly, stupidly jealous, and at the same time enraged with Hugh, who seemed to me so cold and impassive, when I would have given… well!… a great deal to stand in his place. At last he bent his tall six feet two inches and gave the kiss as she had begged.
The next instant she was gone and I had dragged Hugh away into our own room. A penetrating scent of lotus blossoms seemed entirely to fill it, and as we raised a lamp over our heads we saw that Hugh’s couch was one vast bower of the sweet blooms, covering pillow and coverlet; but from the table where he had put it before we strolled out earlier in the evening, the iridescent scarabæus, which was to guard him against the magic of Neit-akrit’s beauty, had disappeared.
CHAPTER XVII.
DANGER
All through my stay in the beautiful land of Kamt I never found that its balmy, fragrant air acted as a soporific, and it became really wonderful with how little sleep we both contrived to keep up our health. That night, or rather morning, after our quaint little adventure, I hardly managed to close an eye, and I am sure that Hugh, who had as usual a room opening out of mine, was as restless as myself. I found the scent of the lotus oppressive and penetrating, and the memories it brought back to me very disturbing and harassing.
The sun was high in the heavens when I at last contrived to snatch a brief hour’s sleep, and when I woke it was to find that Hugh had stolen a march on me, and had already gone out. The morning looked perfect, and after my delicious bath I felt thoroughly rested and at peace with this picturesque world and its fascinating women. It was one of those mornings when a book and a cigar on a verandah facing the sea would have been perfect bliss in the dear old country. But on this beautiful morning in Kamt, the scent of flowers, the songs of birds, the exotic beauty of the land gave mind and body so much to enjoy that not even the cigar and the book were much missed.
I tried to pick my way through the labyrinth of alleys and walks to the terrace that faced the lake, and just as I stepped on to it I saw Hugh and Princess Neit-akrit there together.
She looked more lovely, I thought, by day than even she had been by moonlight. She was lying under a canopy of turquoise blue silk which vied in colour and brilliancy with the sky above it. Beneath it her hair looked like living copper, and her skin white and polished like the alabaster. Her beautiful panther lay at her feet, and Hugh stood on the steps which led up to the throne-like couch on which she reclined. Neither of them saw me, and I stood for a while looking at the dainty picture.
“I have oft wondered,” she was saying, “what lies beyond those hills. Ur-tasen says that there is naught but the valley of death, where foot of man ne’er treads, but where carrion beasts prowl at night, and vultures fly screeching overhead. When he talks like that my flesh creeps with horror, and for days I cannot bear to look upon those hills; then, a lovely morning comes like to-day, Osiris emerges in his golden barge more radiant than ever from out that valley of death, and then all day I long to follow him in his course and disappear with him behind the hills in Ma-nu, so that I might see the glories that lie beyond.”
I was debating with myself whether I should discreetly retire or interrupt this tête-à-tête, which my reason suggested was dangerous somehow to my friend.