"To me," he mumbled. "To me. Whom else? My agents are spirits and
invisible. They do not love you for despising them. They have tortures
in reserve for you when you are dead and you, too, are a spirit. But I
would be merciful--I shall send you a cheque. Return it at your peril. Now go, go, go." On a sudden I was cold as ice. The man was evidently insane. He seemed
on the brink of a fit. He was frothing at the mouth. "Softly, softly, Sir Robert," I said soothingly. "No need for
excitement. Calm yourself; after all this is a business transaction." "Oh!" he gasped, then broke into a wild laugh. "A mere matter of price. I should have known it; a Scotchman!" "Exactly," said I. "And my price is a million. Good-morning." The whole camp was astir. The negroes' tents were all down and rolled. The mules and asses were being loaded heavily. Evidently Sir Robert
was about to flit after the corpse of Ptahmes. I found Miss Ottley and
the Captain talking over the apparent move. The girl was agitated. She
had not been consulted. It was not a time to mince matters. I told her
frankly everything that had passed between her father and myself, and
hardly had I finished, when she rushed off hot foot to visit him. The
Captain went with her. I made a passably good breakfast. Chapter X

The Capture of the Coffin


About noon--I saw no one but blacks in the meanwhile--the Captain came
with a letter. "From Sir Robert--catch!" said he. I tore it open. A
single sheet of note enclosed a cheque signed in blank. "Dear Dr.
Pinsent," ran the letter. "You will find that my signature will be
honoured for any sum it may please you to put upon my life in your
esteem. Permit me to express a hope that you will not hurt my vanity in
your selection of numerals. "Sincerely yours, ROBERT OTTLEY." I handed the note to Weldon. He read it and whistled loud and long. "You might beggar him!" he cried. "The man is stark mad." "Either that or he has made a truly wonderful discovery," I rejoined. "And there is Belleville to consider. That man, I fancy, is a
rascal--but also a sane one." "It has me beat," said the handsome Captain. "The whole thing from
start to finish. Ottley is up there now spooning his daughter like
a lover. He was as sweet as pie to me, too. I feel like a stranded
jelly-fish. What will you do?" I enclosed the cheque in a blank cover, sealed it and gave it to the
Captain. "Will you be my courier?" "Of course," said he, and swung off. He returned at the end of my third cigar, with a second letter. It ran,
"My dear young friend, Your refusal has deeply pained me. The more,
because it deprives me of the pleasure of your company on the road to
Cairo. I beg you, nevertheless, to choose from my stores all that you
may require that may serve you during your continued sojourn at Rakh. We start at sunset for the Nile and north. "Ever yours attachedly,
"R. OTTLEY." When the Captain had mastered this precious effusion, he collapsed upon
a stool. "He intends to leave you here alone in the desert. It's--it's
marooning, nothing less!" he gasped. I lighted a fourth cigar and lay back thinking hard. In ten minutes I
had made up my mind. I sat up. The Captain was anxiously watching me. "See here, my lad," I said, "in that bundle yonder is the manuscript
of a book I have been working hard upon for three years and more. It
is the very heart of me. Take good care of it. One of these days--if I
live--I'll call for it at your diggings in London. I have your address
in my notebook." "Oh! Oh! Oh!" said the Captain. "But what's the game?" "Diamond cut diamond. I'm going a journey. But I'll say no more. Mad
or sane, you are eating Ottley's salt, and are beholden to him for his
paternity of the exceptionally gifted young woman you propose to marry. Good-bye to you." I held out my hand. He sprang up and wrung it hard. "You are sure you
are doing right?" he asked. I filled my pockets with his cigars. "I am sure of nothing," I replied,
as I did so, "except this--I have been abominably ill-used by a man who
under Heaven owes his life to me--and this--I resent it." I put on my helmet, nodded and left the tent. The Captain cried out, "Good luck!" Five minutes later I turned and
waved my hand to him. He was still standing by the tent flap gazing
after me. I thought to myself, "He is as honest as he is good to look
upon. He will make May Ottley a gallant husband." I am a reasonably
bad Christian, and quite as selfish as many worse, but somehow or
another the reflection brought no aftermath of bitterness. The
handsome, happy-hearted boy--he was little else for all his three and
thirty years--had crept into my heart, and I felt somehow the chamber
he occupied was next door to that wherein May Ottley's visage was
enshrined. But I had work to do; so I turned the key on both. The sun
was so hideously hot that I was forced to hasten slowly. But I reached
the Nile under two hours, and found, as I expected, Sir Robert Ottley's
steam launch moored to the bank. Her smoking funnel had been the
beacon of my march. She was in charge of an old French pilot, a Turkish
engineer, and four Levantines, piratical-looking stokers, mongrels all. I stalked aboard with an air of paramount authority. The Frenchman came
forward, bowing. He wore a sort of uniform. "Steam up, Captain?" I
asked. "Since morning, monsieur!" he replied. "Then kindly push off at once. I must overtake the punt that started
last night without delay." His mouth opened. "But monsieur," he protested, "I----"

"You waste time," I interrupted. He rubbed his hands nervously together. "But monsieur is unknown to me. I have my written orders from Sare Roberrrrt. Doubtless monsieur has
authority. But monsieur vill perrceive----"

"That you are a punctilious old fool," I retorted. "Here is my
authority!" What I showed him was a revolver. He jumped, I vow, two
feet in the air, and hastily retreated. But I followed more quickly
still, and forced him to the bridge. There he became very voluble,
however; so much so, indeed, that I was constrained to cock my pistol. That settled him. He thundered out his orders and we were soon racing
at ten knots an hour down stream. When rounding the nearest bend to
the Hill of Rakh the temptation was very strong in me to sound the
steamer's whistle. But I am proud to say that I refrained. It would
have been a little-minded thing to do. About midnight, feeling weary,
I ran the steamer's nose gently into a mud bank, drove the captain
down to the deck and locked him with the rest of the crew in the
engine-house. Then I foraged round for eatables, made a hearty supper
and snatched about five hours' sleep. When morning came I awoke as
fresh and strong as a young colt. After bath and breakfast, I released
my prisoners, made them eat and then push off the bank. We lost an
hour at that job, but, at length, it was accomplished, and our race
for the punt recommenced. We overhauled it about four o'clock the same
afternoon.