He started as he heard a step behind him, and turning, saw Dr. Dean. The worthy little savant looked worried and preoccupied.
"I have had a letter from the Princess Ziska," he said, without any preliminary. "She has gone to secures rooms at the Mena House Hotel, which is situated close to the Pyramids. She regrets she cannot enter into the idea of taking a trip up the Nile. She has no time, she says, as she is soon leaving Cairo. But she suggests that we should make up a party for the Mena House while she is staying there, as she can, so she tells me, make the Pyramids much more interesting for us by her intimate knowledge of them. Now, to me this is a very tempting offer, but I should not care to go alone."
"The Murrays will go, I am sure," murmured Gervase lazily. "At any rate, Denzil will."
The Doctor looked at him narrowly.
"If Denzil goes, so will you go," he said. "Thus there are two already booked for company. And I fancy the Fulkewards might like the idea."
"The Princess is leaving Cairo?" queried Gervase presently, as though it were an after thought.
"So she informs me in her letter. The party which is to come off on Wednesday night is her last reception."
Gervase was silent a moment. Then he said: "Have you told Denzil?"
"Not yet."
"Better do so then," and Gervase glanced up at the sky, now glowing red with a fiery sunset. "He wants to propose, you know."
"Good God!" cried the Doctor, sharply, "If he proposes to that woman. ..."
"Why should he not?" demanded Gervase. "Is she not as ripe for love and fit for marriage as any other of her sex?"
"Her sex!" echoed the Doctor grimly. "Her sex!--There!--for heaven's sake don't talk to me!--leave me alone! The Princess Ziska is like no woman living; she has none of the sentiments of a woman,--and the notion of Denzil's being such a fool as to think of proposing to her--Oh, leave me alone, I tell you! Let me worry this out!"
And clapping his hat well down over his eyes, he began to walk away in a strange condition of excitement, which he evidently had some difficulty in suppressing. Suddenly, however, he turned, came back and tapped Gervase smartly on the chest.
"YOU are the man for the Princess," he said impressively. "There is a madness in you which you call love for her; you are her fitting mate, not that poor boy, Denzil Murray. In certain men and women spirit leaps to spirit,--note responds to note--and if all the world were to interpose its trumpery bulk, nothing could prevent such tumultuous forces rushing together. Follow your destiny, Monsieur Gervase, but do not ruin another man's life on the way. Follow your destiny,--complete it,--you are bound to do so,--but in the havoc and wildness to come, for God's sake, let the innocent go free!"