A vision of majestic buildings, vast, stately and gigantic!----of
streets crowded with men and women in white and coloured garments
adorned with jewels,--of flowers that grew on the roofs of palaces and
swung from terrace to terrace in loops and garlands of fantastic
bloom,--of trees, broad-branched and fully leafed,--of marble
embankments overlooking the river,--of lotus-lilies growing thickly
below, by the water's edge,--of music that echoed in silver and brazen
twangings from the shelter of shady gardens and covered
balconies,--every beautiful detail rose before me more distinctly than
an ivory carving mounted on an ebony shield. Just opposite where I stood
or seemed to stand, on the deck of a vessel in the busy harbour, a wide
avenue extended, opening up into huge squares embellished with strange
figures of granite gods and animals,--I saw the sparkling spray of many
fountains in the moonlight, and heard the low persistent hum of the
restless human multitudes that thronged the place as thickly as bees
clustered in a hive. To the left of the scene I could discern a huge
bronze gate guarded by sphinxes; there was a garden beyond it, and from
that depth of shade a girl's voice, singing a strange wild melody, came
floating towards me on the breeze. Meanwhile the marching music I had
first of all caught the echo of, sounded nearer and nearer,--and
presently I perceived a great crowd approaching with lighted torches and
garlands of flowers. Soon I saw a band of priests in brilliant robes
that literally blazed with sun-like gems,--they were moving towards the
river, and with them came young boys and little children, while on
either side, maidens white-veiled and rose-wreathed, paced demurely,
swinging silver censers to and fro. After the priestly procession walked
a regal figure between ranks of slaves and attendants,--I knew it for
the King of this 'City Beautiful,' and was almost moved to join in the
thundering acclamations which greeted his progress. And that snowy
palanquin, carried by lily-crowned girls, that followed his train,--who
occupied it? ... what gem of his land was thus tenderly enshrined? I was
consumed by an extraordinary longing to know this,--I watched the white
burden coming nearer to my point of vantage,--I saw the priests arrange
themselves in a semi-circle on the river-embankment, the King in their
midst, and the surging shouting multitude around,--then came the brazen
clangour of many bells, intermixed with the rolling of drums and the
shrilling sound of reed-pipes lightly blown upon,--and, amid the blaze
of the flaring torches, the White Palanquin was set down upon the
ground. A woman, clad in some silvery glistening tissue, stepped forth
from it like a sylph from the foam of the sea, but----she was veiled,--I
could not discern so much as the outline of her features,--and the keen
disappointment of this was a positive torture to me. If I could but see
her, I thought, I should know something I had never hitherto guessed!
"Lift, oh lift the shrouding veil, Spirit of the City Beautiful!" I
inwardly prayed--"For I feel I shall read in your eyes the secret of
happiness!"
But the veil was not withdrawn, ... the music made barbaric clamour in
my ears, ... the blaze of strong light and colour blinded me, ... and I
felt myself reeling into a dark chaos, where as I imagined, I chased the
moon, as she flew before me on silver wings,--then ... the sound of a
rich baritone trolling out a light song from a familiar modern _opera
bouffe_ confused and startled me,----and in another second I found
myself staring wildly at Lucio, who, lying easily back in his
deck-chair, was carolling joyously to the silent night and the blank
expanse of sandy shore, in front of which our dahabeah rested
motionless. With a cry I flung myself upon him.
"Where is she?" I exclaimed--"_Who_ is she?"
He looked at me without replying, and smiling quizzically, released
himself from my sudden grasp. I drew back shuddering and bewildered.
"I saw it all!" I murmured--"The city--the priests,--the people--the
King!----all but Her face! Why was that hidden from me!"
And actual tears rose to my eyes involuntarily,--Lucio surveyed me with
evident amusement.
"What a 'find' you would be to a first-class 'spiritual' impostor
playing his tricks in cultured and easily-gulled London society!" he
observed--"You seem most powerfully impressed by a passing vision!"
"Do you mean to tell me," I said earnestly "that what I saw just now was
the mere thought of your brain conveyed to mine?"
"Precisely!" he responded--"I know what the 'City Beautiful' was like,
and I was able to draw it for you on the canvas of my memory and present
it as a complete picture to your inward sight. For you _have_ an inward
sight,--though like most people, you live unconscious of that neglected
faculty."
"But--who was She?" I repeated obstinately.
"'She' was, I presume, the King's favourite. If she kept her face hidden
from you as you complain, I am sorry!--but I assure you it was not my
fault! Get to bed, Geoffrey,--you look dazed. You take visions
badly,--yet they are better than realities, believe me!"
Somehow I could not answer him. I left him abruptly and went below to
try and sleep, but my thoughts were all cruelly confused, and I began to
be more than ever overwhelmed with a sense of deepening terror,--a
feeling that I was being commanded, controlled and, as it were, driven
along by a force that had in it something unearthly. It was a most
distressing sensation,--it made me shrink at times, from the look of
Lucio's eyes,--now and then indeed I almost cowered before him, so
increasingly great was the indefinable dread I had of his presence. It
was not so much the strange vision of the 'City Beautiful' that had
inspired this in me,--for after all, that was only a trick of hypnotism,
as he had said, and as I was content to argue it with myself,--but it
was his whole manner that suddenly began to impress me as it had never
impressed me before. If any change was slowly taking place in my
sentiments towards him, so surely it seemed was he changing equally
towards me. His imperious ways were more imperial,--his sarcasm more
sarcastic,--his contempt for mankind more openly displayed and more
frequently pronounced. Yet I admired him as much as ever,--I delighted
in his conversation, whether it were witty, philosophical or cynical,--I
could not imagine myself without his company. Nevertheless the gloom on
my mind deepened,--our Nile trip became infinitely wearisome to me, so
much so, that almost before we had got half-way on our journey up the
river, I longed to turn back again and wished the voyage at an end. An
incident that occurred at Luxor was more than sufficient to strengthen
this desire. We had stayed there for several days exploring the district
and visiting the ruins of Thebes and Karnac, where they were busy
excavating tombs. One afternoon they brought to light a red granite
sarcophagus intact,--in it was a richly painted coffin which was opened
in our presence, and was found to contain the elaborately adorned mummy
of a woman. Lucio proved himself an apt reader of hieroglyphs, and he
translated in brief, and with glib accuracy the history of the corpse as
it was pictured inside the sepulchral shell.
"A dancer at the court of Queen Amenartes;" he announced for the benefit
of several interested spectators who with myself, stood round the
sarcophagus--"Who because of her many sins, and secret guilt which made
her life unbearable, and her days full of corruption, died of poison
administered by her own hand, according to the King's command, and in
presence of the executioners of law. Such is the lady's
story,--condensed;--there are a good many other details of course. She
appears to have been only in her twentieth year. Well!" and he smiled as
he looked round upon his little audience,--"We may congratulate
ourselves on having progressed since the days of these over-strict
ancient Egyptians! The sins of dancers are not, with us, taken _au grand
serieux_! Shall we see what she is like?"
No objection was raised by the authorities concerned in the
discoveries,--and I, who had never witnessed the unrolling of a mummy
before, watched the process with great interest and curiosity. As one by
one of the scented wrappings were removed, a long tress of nut-brown
hair became visible,--then, those who were engaged in the task, used
more extreme and delicate precaution, Lucio himself assisting them to
uncover the face. As this was done, a kind of sick horror stole over
me,--brown and stiff as parchment though the features were, their
contour was recognisable,--and when the whole countenance was exposed to
view I could almost have shrieked aloud the name of '_Sibyl!_' For it
was like her!--dreadfully like!--and as the faint, half-aromatic
half-putrid odours of the unrolled cerements crept towards me on the
air, I reeled back giddily and covered my eyes. Irresistibly I was
reminded of the subtle French perfume exhaled from Sibyl's garments when
I found her dead,--that, and this sickly effluvia were similar! A man
standing near me saw me swerve as though about to fall, and caught me on
his arm.
"The sun is too strong for you I fear?" he said kindly--"This climate
does not suit everybody."
I forced a smile and murmured something about a passing touch of
vertigo,--then, recovering myself I gazed fearfully at Lucio, who was
studying the mummy attentively with a curious smile. Presently stooping
over the coffin he took out of it a piece of finely wrought gold in the
shape of a medallion.
"This, I imagine must be the fair dancer's portrait,"--he said, holding
it up to the view of all the eager and exclaiming spectators--"Quite a
treasure-trove! An admirable piece of ancient workmanship, besides
being the picture of a very lovely woman. Do you not think so,
Geoffrey?"
He handed me the medallion,--and I examined it with deadly and
fascinated interest,--the face was exquisitely beautiful,--but assuredly
it was the face of Sibyl!
I never remember how I lived through the rest of that day. At night, as
soon as I had an opportunity of speaking to Rimânez alone, I asked him ...
"Did you see,----did you not recognize? ..."
"That the dead Egyptian dancer resembled your late wife?" he quietly
continued--"Yes,--I noticed it at once. But that should not affect you.
History repeats itself,--why should not lovely women repeat themselves?
Beauty always has its double somewhere, either in the past or future."
I said no more,--but next morning I was very ill,--so ill that I could
not rise from my bed, and passed the hours in restless moaning and
irritable pain that was not so much physical as mental. There was a
physician resident at the hotel at Luxor, and Lucio, always showing
himself particularly considerate for my personal comfort, sent for him
at once. He felt my pulse, shook his head, and after much dubious
pondering, advised my leaving Egypt immediately. I heard his mandate
given with a joy I could scarcely conceal. The yearning I had to get
quickly away from this 'land of the old gods' was intense and
feverish,--I loathed the vast and awful desert silences, where the
Sphinx frowns contempt on the puny littleness of mankind,--where the
opened tombs and coffins expose once more to the light of day, faces
that are the very semblances of those we ourselves have known and loved
in our time,--and where painted history tells us of just such things as
our modern newspapers chronicle, albeit in different form. Rimânez was
ready and willing to carry out the doctor's orders,--and arranged our
return to Cairo and from thence to Alexandria, with such expedition as
left me nothing to desire, and filled me with gratitude for his apparent
sympathy. In as short a time as abundance of cash could make possible,
we had rejoined 'The Flame,' and were _en route_, as I thought, for
France or England. We had not absolutely settled our destination, having
some idea of coasting along the Riviera,--but my old confidence in
Rimânez being now almost restored, I left this to him for decision,
sufficiently satisfied in myself that I had not been destined to leave
my bones in terror-haunted Egypt. And it was not till I had been about a
week or ten days on board, and had made good progress in the recovery of
my health, that the beginning of the end of this never-to-be-forgotten
voyage was foreshadowed to me in such terrific fashion as nearly plunged
me into the darkness of death,--or rather let me now say, (having
learned my bitter lesson thoroughly) into the fell brilliancy of that
Life beyond the tomb which we refuse to recognise or realize till we are
whirled into its glorious or awful vortex!
One evening, after a bright day of swift and enjoyable sailing over a
smooth and sunlit sea, I retired to rest in my cabin, feeling almost
happy. My mind was perfectly tranquil,--my trust in my friend Lucio was
again re-established,--and I may add, so was my old arrogant and
confident trust in myself. My access to fortune had not, so far, brought
me either much joy or distinction,--but it was not too late for me yet
to pluck the golden apples of Hesperides. The various troubles I had
endured, though of such recent occurrence, began to assume a blurred
indistinctness in my mind, as of things long past and done with,--I
considered the strength of my financial position again with
satisfaction, to the extent of contemplating a second marriage--and that
marriage with--Mavis Clare! No other woman should be my wife, I mentally
swore,--she, and she only should be mine! I foresaw no difficulties in
the way,--and full of pleasant dreams and self-delusions I settled
myself in my berth, and dropped easily off to sleep. About midnight I
awoke, vaguely terrified, to see the cabin full of a strong red light
and fierce glare. My first dazed impression was that the yacht was on
fire,--the next instant I became paralysed and dumb with horror. Sibyl
stood before me! ... Sibyl, a wild, strange, tortured writhing figure,
half nude, waving beckoning arms, and making desperate gestures,--her
face was as I had seen it last in death, livid and hideous, ... her
eyes blazed mingled menace, despair, and warning upon me! Round her a
living wreath of flame coiled upwards like a twisted snake, ... her lips
moved as though she strove to speak, but no sound came from them,----and
while I yet looked at her, she vanished! I must have lost consciousness
then,--for when I awoke it was broad day. But this ghastly visitation
was only the first of many such,--and at last, _every night_ I saw her
thus, sheeted in flame, till I grew well-nigh mad with fear and misery.
My torment was indescribable,--yet I said nothing to Lucio, who watched
me, as I imagined, narrowly,--I took sleeping-draughts in the hope to
procure unbroken rest, but in vain,--always I woke at one particular
moment, and always I had to face this fiery phantom of my dead wife,
with despair in her eyes and an unuttered warning on her lips. This was
not all. One day in the full sunlight of a quiet afternoon, I entered
the saloon of the yacht alone, and started back amazed to see my old
friend John Carrington seated at the table, pen in hand, casting up
accounts. He bent over his papers closely,--his face was furrowed and
very pale,--but so life-like was he, so seemingly substantial that I
called him by name, whereat he looked up,--smiled drearily, and was
gone! Trembling in every limb I realized that here was another spectral
terror added to the burden of my days; and sitting down, I tried to
rally my scattered forces and reason out what was best to be done. There
was no doubt I was very ill;--these phantoms were the warning of
brain-disease. I must endeavour, I thought, to keep myself well under
control till I got to England,--there I determined to consult the best
physicians, and put myself under their care till I was thoroughly
restored.
"Meanwhile"--I muttered to myself--"I will say nothing, ... not even to
Lucio. He would only smile, ... and I should hate him! ..."
I broke off, wondering at this. For was it possible I should ever hate
him? Surely not!
That night by way of a change, I slept in a hammock on deck, hoping to
dispel midnight illusions by resting in the open air. But my sufferings
were only intensified. I woke as usual, ... to see, not only Sibyl, but
also to my deadly fear, the Three Phantoms that had appeared to me in my
room in London on the evening of Viscount Lynton's suicide. There they
were,--the same, the very same!--only this time all their livid faces
were lifted and turned towards me, and though their lips never moved,
the word 'Misery!' seemed uttered, for I heard it tolling like a funeral
bell on the air and across the sea! ... And Sibyl, with her face of death
in the coils of a silent flame, ... Sibyl smiled at me!----a smile of
torture and remorse! ... God!--I could endure it no longer! Leaping from
my hammock, I ran towards the vessel's edge, ... one plunge into the
cool waves, ... ha!--there stood Amiel, with his impenetrable dark face
and ferret eyes!
"Can I assist you sir?" he inquired deferentially.