“By study of past records”—he replied—“I read what modern men declare they have no time to read. You are right in the idea that all ‘new’ things are only old things re-invented or re-discovered,—if you had gone a step further [p 445] and said that some of men’s present lives are only the continuation of their past, you would not have been wrong. Now, if you like, I can by my science, show you the city that stood here long ago,—the ‘City Beautiful’ as its name is, translated from the ancient tongue.”
I roused myself from my lounging attitude and looked at him amazedly. He met my gaze unmoved.
“You can show it to me!” I exclaimed—“How can you do such an impossible thing?”
“Permit me to hypnotize you,”—he answered smiling,—“My system of hypnotism is, very fortunately, not yet discovered by meddlesome inquirers into occult matters,—but it never fails of its effect,—and I promise you, you shall, under my influence, see not only the place, but the people.”
My curiosity was strongly excited, and I became more eager to try the suggested experiment than I cared to openly show. I laughed however, with affected indifference.
“I am perfectly willing!” I said—“All the same, I don’t think you can hypnotize me,—I have much too strong a will of my own——” at which remark I saw a smile, dark and saturnine, hover on his lips—“But you can make the attempt.”
He rose at once, and signed to one of our Egyptian servants.
“Stop the dahabeah, Azimah,” he said—“We will rest here for the night.”
Azimah, a superb-looking Eastern in picturesque white garments, put his hands to his head in submission and retired to give the order. In another few moments the dahabeah had stopped. A great silence was around us,—the moonlight fell like yellow wine on the deck,—in the far distance across the stretches of dark sand, a solitary column towered so clear-cut against the sky that it was almost possible to discern upon it the outline of a monstrous face. Lucio stood still, confronting me,—saying nothing, but looking me steadily through and through, with those wonderful mystic, melancholy eyes that seemed to penetrate and burn my very [p 446] flesh. I was attracted as a bird might be by the basilisk eyes of a snake,—yet I tried to smile and say something indifferent. My efforts were useless,—personal consciousness was slipping from me fast,—the sky, the water and the moon whirled round each other in a giddy chase for precedence;—I could not move, for my limbs seemed fastened to my chair with weights of iron, and I was for a few minutes absolutely powerless. Then suddenly my vision cleared (as I thought)—my senses grew vigorous and alert, ... I heard the sound of solemn marching music, and there,—there in the full radiance of the moon, with a thousand lights gleaming forth from high cupolas, shone the ‘City Beautiful’!