We glanced at the sarcophagus, then at each other. "Was there need?" she asked, colouring. Then her eyes sparkled. "Oh,
for such strength!" she cried. "It took six Arabs to lift that coffin
lid. You must be a Samson." "Fortunately," I observed. Her brows drew together and her lips. "You treat me in a way that I
resent," she said. "I am as reasonable a being as yourself." I retired to a corner and stretched myself upon the floor without
replying. "When do you wish to be aroused?" she asked. "An hour before sunset. We must eat--that is I. You appear to thrive on
air." She bit her lips and I stared at the ceiling. I was dog-tired, but
could not sleep. I counted a thousand and then glanced at Miss Ottley. Her gaze was fixed on me. "You are overtired," she said, and her tone was pure womanly. It irritated and amused me to find she could so unaffectedly assume it. I smiled. She interpreted the smile aloud. "What sound reason have you for
despising me?" she asked. "You pretend to be a scientist. Answer me as
such, rejecting bias." "I don't," said I. "Then you dislike me; why?" "I don't." Her lip curled. "Oh, indeed." She arose and brought me a cushion. I
took it and our hands touched. "I must conclude, then, that you like
me?" She drew her hand swiftly away and returned to her seat. I smiled again. "Undoubtedly, Miss Ottley." "Thank you." The tone was instinct with sarcasm. "Confess that you are craving for a little human sympathy." "I!" she exclaimed and started haughtily. "Being a woman and in a simply damnable position." "Ah!" she cried, "you admit that." "My dear girl, whenever I think of it your pluck amazes me." To my astonishment her eyes closed and her bosom heaved. Then I
saw such a struggle as I do not wish ever to witness again. Pride
prevented her from raising her hand to hide her face. And pride put up
a superhuman fight with human weakness. Her features were distorted. One could see that soul and body were engaged in mortal combat. That
spectacle was poignantly fascinating. I thrilled to see it and yet
hated myself for not being able to look away. Why--who knows? But at
length I could stand it no longer. I got up and shook her gently. She
stiffened into marble, but did not offer to resist me. "Peace, peace," I said. "You foolish, foolish child, you are wasting
forces that were given you for quite another purpose." Suddenly her eyes opened and looked straight in mine. "What?" she
questioned, and two great tears rolled down her cheeks. "Why do you hate your sex?" I asked. "God knows it is more valuable
than mine." "Man," she muttered--and shuddered from me--bitterly defiant. "Woman," I retorted. "And each of us with a fateful mission to fulfil,
not to fight against." "Yours to sting, to hurt, to crush." "And yours to foster and create a better, finer-natured breed." "Generous?" she sneered. "Is it possible?" "My dear girl," said I, "I haven't a temper to lose; I am a sober,
cold-blooded man of the world. Of thirty." I laughed out heartily, then stopped, remembering the patient. He
stirred and we both hurried to his side. But he did not wake. I looked up and offered Miss Ottley my right hand. "We started badly," I whispered, "but still we may be friends." Her eyes darkened with anger. She stood like a statue regarding me, her
expression sphinx-like and brooding. "Instinct says one thing and pride
another!" I hazarded. She coloured to her chin, but her firm glance did not falter. "Ah, well," said I, and made off to my stone couch, convinced that a
man who argues with a woman is a fool. And I was punished properly. She
haunted my dreams. Chapter V

The Shadow in the Cave


We ate heartily, the pair of us, that evening. The effect on me was
comforting and humanising. I felt well disposed to my fellow man--and
woman, and inclined to sanguine expectations. Miss Ottley, however,
was, as usual, impenetrable. She belonged of right to the age of iron. A female anachronism. To cheer her I suggested a game of chess. She
consented, and mated me in fourteen moves. We played again, and once
more she beat me. My outspoken admiration of her skill--I rather fancy
my own play at chess--left her perfectly imperturbable. In the third
game she predicted my defeat at the eleventh move on making her own
fourth. I did my best, but her prophecy was fulfilled. "Enough!" said
I, and retiring to the door way, I lighted a cigarette. "Hassan Ali, our dragoman, should be here to-morrow," she presently
remarked, "with troops." "They will never catch our rascal Arabs," I replied. "With five clear
days' start those beggars might be anywhere." "Just so," said she, "but they will be of some use none the less--if
only to drag that sarcophagus out of the temple." "Eh!" I exclaimed--and looked at her sharply. "What is the matter with
the thing--here?" She shrugged her shoulders, then of a sudden smiled. "Do you wish to be
amused?" "Of all things." "Then prepare to laugh at me. While you slept this afternoon----" She
paused. "Yes," I said. "My father awoke." "Oh!" "And conversed." "Good," I murmured. "He was sensible." "I do not know. He seemed so. But he did not speak to me." "You said that he conversed." "Ay--but with a shadow." Miss Ottley compressed her lips and looked at me defiantly. "A shadow," she repeated. "I saw it distinctly. It moved across the
room and stood beside the cot. It was the shadow of a man. But you are
not laughing." "Not yet," said I. "Had this shadow a voice?" "No." "What did your father say to it?" "He implored it to be patient." "And the shadow?" "Vanished." "And you?" "I told myself I dreamed. I tried not to die of terror, and succeeded." "Why did you not wake me?" "I wished to, but the shadow intervened." "It reappeared?" "For a second that reduced me to a state of trembling imbecility." "That infernal perfume has simply shattered your nerves," I commented
cheerfully. "You'll be better after a good rest. Overstrain and anxiety
of course are to a degree responsible. Indeed, they might be held
accountable for the hallucination alone. But I blame the perfume to a
great extent, because it similarly affected me." "What!" she cried, "you saw a shadow, too?" I laughed softly. "My own--no other. But its appearance shocked me
horribly. In my opinion that coffin perfume works powerfully upon the
optic nerve. How are you feeling now?" "As well as ever in my life." "No fears?" "None. But I admit a distrust of that sarcophagus--or rather of the
perfume it contains. Are you sure that you stopped up the chisel hole
securely?" "Quite. But pardon me, Miss Ottley, you are looking weary. Take my
advice and retire now." "Thanks. I shall," she said, and with a cool bow she went into the
inner chamber. An hour later Sir Robert awoke. He was quite sensible
and appeared much better. I fed him and we exchanged a few cheerful
remarks. He declared that he had turned the corner and expressed a
strong desire to be up and about his work again.