But I could not bring myself to do the latter, her face so near to
mine, her breath upon my lips. That is why I went to the laboratory,
and why I took her with me. Chapter XXIX

Saved by fire


Belleville's first act, after tossing the Arab's corpse upon the floor
and bolting the laboratory door, was to rush over to the couch and
remove therefrom the mummy of Ptahmes. This he placed with careful
haste upon a marble slab, and he commanded me, in Arabic, meanwhile, to
carry the lady to the couch. I obeyed him in silence. He then ordered
me to take up the body of the Englishman, Pinsent, and bring it to the
sarcophagus. This gave me an opportunity to examine the Arab. I did
so, and found him quite dead. Belleville's dagger had twice pierced
his heart. I then raised the corpse and carried it to the great lead
coffin. "What next, master?" I asked in guttural Arabic. Belleville's voice answered from behind me. "Lift the carrion up! That
is well. Now let it slip into the bath! Gently, Ptahmes, gently--or the
stuff will splash. Here--I will help you." "Where?" I demanded. I was trying to locate him. "Wait," he replied--then "Here!" His voice sounded from across the
sarcophagus. A second later his hand brushed one of mine and passed. "I'll take
the shoulders," he said. "You take the feet! Be careful, man--gently,
gently!" It was maddening to be so near and yet so far. But there was nothing
for it except to follow his directions. I, therefore, grasped the
corpse firmly by the ankles, when the greater weight of it had
been transferred, and then I watched the great blood clot upon its
chest--the only visible sign of its existence--sink down, down to the
liquid contents of the coffin. Soon it rested there like a crimson
lily on the surface of a pond. I let my fingers loose their hold and
the unseen limbs of the corpse subsided on the liquid with an oily
swish. The whole corpse seemed to be floating. Belleville realised
this as soon as I. "Wait here!" he said to me--then added in English,
speaking to himself, "Where the deuce did I put that glass rod? Ah! I
remember." Then I heard the thud of his retreating steps, and a little
later I saw waveringly approaching me from across the room, apparently
of its own volition, a long, glass, solid bar, about four feet long and
an inch thick. I was overjoyed at the sight, for my hands were free,
Belleville could not see me, and the glass rod informed me exactly of
his whereabouts. Quick as thought, I slipped around the sarcophagus and
making a little detour, got behind the murderer. He went straight to
the coffin and plunged the rod within it. Doubtless he was using it to
submerge the corpse. I heard a hissing, bubbling sound, and Belleville
saying, "Watch me closely, Ptahmes--for this is what you must do." I crept upon him until I could hear his breathing quite distinctly,
although he was not greatly exerting himself. Then came the time to
act. "My God!" he suddenly exclaimed--"not Pinsent--Ptahmes--what's
this?" The glass rod was still. It stood bolt upright in the sarcophagus, and
so rigidly motionless that I guessed Belleville's weight was leaning
on it. I gave a swift glance into the coffin and almost shrieked with
surprise. The liquid had made the dead Arab visible again, and his
death-mask grinned up at us with a fixed and blood-curdling stare. On
instant I opened my arms wide and threw them round my unseen enemy. He uttered a howl of rage and terror and turned within my grasp to
fight me, biting and clawing like a savage beast. But very soon I
mastered him. Disregarding his animal-like efforts, I seized him by
the throat and beat his skull upon the edge of the sarcophagus until
he had quite ceased to struggle. Then, anxious, of all things, to make
sure of him by seeing him, I heaved him up and allowed him to slide
headforemost down into the bath beside the Arab he had murdered in
mistake for me. I reasoned that since the liquid there had made the
Arab visible, it should produce a like effect on Belleville. But I
was utterly unprepared for the result. The stuff must have been an
acid of tremendous power. It awakened the senseless wretch to almost
instant tortured consciousness. A series of dreadful shrieks filled
the room with strange detonating echoes. Belleville was no sooner in
the coffin than out of it and visible in part. His face and hands were
plainly to be seen. They came out white and dripping wet, but a few
seconds' contact with the air turned them red as blood. I seized the
glass rod to defend myself, expecting an attack. But there was no need
to use it. The shrieking wretch staggered down the room to the first
dispensing cabinet. He tore the door open and clutched at a big phial,
the contents of which he poured upon his hands and splashed upon his
face, wailing all the while like a lost soul in the depths of Hell. Happily he did not keep this up for long. The drug that he applied to
his hurts, whatever it was, must have salved them, for in a moment or
two his heart-rending outcries subsided to a deep, low sobbing. Even
that, however, was more than I could stand. I wanted Belleville dead,
but I could not endure the sight and sound of his agony--agony that I,
unwittingly, had caused. "Belleville," I called out, "can I help you?" He gasped and caught his breath, turning his face towards me. To my
surprise it was no longer scarlet. It had caught the hue of leather,
and the eyes were mantling purple at the whites. "I did not know the stuff was acid," I continued. "If there is
anything I can do to soothe your suffering, I shall and gladly." "You dog!" said he. "You've ruined me and now you are gloating over
your handiwork." With that, he put his hand in his bosom and began to steal in my
direction. I remembered his concealed dagger and called out, "Be
warned, Belleville--I can see you. Your dagger will not help you." "Oh! Oh! Oh!" he groaned, and stopped short. "Hugh Pinsent's voice--oh, Heaven!" cried Miss Ottley--behind me. She
had awakened from her swoon. I swung on heel and watched her rise. "Hugh!" she sighed. "Hugh--where
are you, dear?" Then she saw Belleville, and the hideous apparition
he presented, a black pain-tortured face hovering in mid-air, with
two dark, ghostly hands outstretched before it, froze her blood. Mercifully, she swooned again and fell back senseless on the lounge. Belleville recommenced his moaning, and began walking up and down
wringing his hands. I stood silent, lost in thought and wondering what
I ought to do. Belleville told me. He stopped on a sudden and called my
name twice, "Pinsent, Pinsent." [Illustration: _The_ Living Mummy

A black pain-tortured face hovering in mid-air

_Face Page 296_]

"Here!" said I. "I am at your mercy now," he muttered, in a broken voice. "I'm blind." "What!" I cried. "Ay," said he, "and my facial extremities are dying fast--pah! my nose
is already dead; look." He put up one hand to his face and before my
eyes broke off his nose and tossed it on the floor.