She seated herself in a pew, and I took my place beside her.
"Valerie," I said, "I followed you this morning for two reasons. The first was to tell you of my love, and the second was to let you know that I have made up my mind on a certain course of action. At any risk we must escape from Pharos, and since you have confessed that you love me we will go together."
"It is useless," she answered sorrowfully, "quite useless."
"Hush!" I said, as three people entered the church. "We can not talk here. Let us find another place."
With this we rose and left the building. Proceeding into the street, I hailed a cab, and as soon as we had taken our places in it, bade the man drive us to the Baumgarten. Some of my pleasantest recollections of Prague in days gone by were clustered round this park, but they were as nothing compared with the happiness I now enjoyed in visiting it in the company of the woman I loved. When we had found a seat in a secluded spot we resumed the conversation that had been interrupted in the church.
"You say that it is useless our thinking of making our escape from this man?" I said. "I tell you that it is not useless, and that at any hazard we must do so. We know now that we love each other. I know, at least, how much you are to me. Is it possible, therefore, that you can believe I should allow you to remain in his power an instant longer than I can help? In my life I have not feared many men, but I confess that I fear Pharos as I do the devil. Since I have known him I have had several opportunities of testing his power. I have seen things, or he has made me believe I have seen things which, under any other circumstances, would seem incredible, and, if it is likely to have any weight with you, I do not mind owning that his power over me is growing greater every day. And that reminds me there is a question I have often desired to ask you. Do you remember one night on board the yacht, when we were crossing from Naples to Port Said, telling Pharos that you could see a cave in which a mummy had once stood?"
She shook her head.
"I remember nothing of it," she said. "But why do you ask me such strange questions?"
I took her hand before I answered. I could feel that she was trembling violently.
"Because I want to prove to you the diabolical power the man possesses. You described a tomb from which the mummy had been taken. I have seen that tomb. It was the burial place of the Magician, Ptahmes, whose mummy once stood in my studio in London, which Pharos stole from me, and which was the primary cause of my becoming associated with him. You described a subterranean hall with carved pillars and paintings on the walls, and a mummy lying upon a block of stone. I have seen that hall, those pillars, those carvings and paintings, and the mummy of Ptahmes lying stretched out as you portrayed it. You mentioned a tent in the desert and a sick man lying on a bed inside it. I was that sick man, and it was to that tent that Pharos conveyed me after I had spent the night in the ruins of the Temple of Ammon. The last incident has yet to take place, but, please God, if you will help me in my plan, we shall have done with him long before then."