Pharos, The Egyptian: A Romance

Accompanied by Pharos I returned to the deck, convinced that I was as far removed from an understanding of this strange individual's character as I had been since I had known him. Of the Fräulein Valerie I saw nothing until late in the afternoon. She was suffering from a severe headache, so the steward informed Pharos, and was not equal to leaving her cabin.

That this news was not palatable to my companion I gathered from the way in which his face darkened. However, he pretended to feel only solicitude for her welfare, and, having instructed the steward to convey his sympathy to her, returned to his conversation with me. In this fashion, reading, talking, and perambulating the deck, the remainder of the day passed away, and it was not until we sat down to dinner at night that our party in the saloon was united. On board the yacht, as in his house in Naples, the cooking was perfection itself, but, as on that other occasion, Pharos did not partake of it. He dined as usual upon fruit and small wheaten cakes, finishing his meal by pouring the powder into the glass of water and drinking it off as before.

When we rose from the table my host and hostess retired to their respective cabins, while I lit a cigar and went on deck. The sun was just disappearing below the horizon and a wonderful hush had fallen upon the sea. Scarcely a ripple disturbed its glassy surface, while the track the vessel left behind her seemed to lead across the world into the very eye of the sinking sun beyond. There was something awe-inspiring in the beauty and stillness of the evening. It was like the hush that precedes a violent storm, and seeing the captain near the entrance to the smoking-room, I made my way along the deck and accosted him, inquiring what he thought of the weather.

"I scarcely know what to think of it, monsieur," he answered in French. "The glass has fallen considerably since morning. My own opinion is that it is working up for a storm."

I agreed with him, and after a few moments' more conversation, thanked him for his courtesy and returned aft.

Reaching the skylight, I seated myself upon it. The glasses were lifted and through the open space I could see into the saloon below. The mellow light of the shaded electric lamps shone upon the rich decorations and the inlaid furniture and was reflected in the mirrors on the walls. As far as I could see no one was present. I was about to rise and move away when a sound came from the Fräulein Valerie's cabin that caused me to remain where I was. Someone was speaking, and that person was a woman. Knowing there was no other of her sex on board, this puzzled me more than I can say. The voice was harsh, monotonous, unmusical, and grated strangely upon the ear. There was a pause, then another, which I instantly recognised as belonging to Pharos, commenced.

I had no desire to play the eavesdropper, but for some reason which I can not explain I could not choose but listen.

"Come," Pharos was saying in German, "thou canst not disobey me. Hold my hand so, open thine eyes, and tell me what thou seest!"

There was a pause for a space in which I could have counted fifty. Then the woman's voice answered as slowly and monotonously as before:

"I see a sandy plain, which stretches as far as the eye can reach in all directions save one. On that side it is bordered by a range of hills. I see a collection of tents, and in the one nearest me a man tossing on a bed of sickness."

"Is it he? The man thou knowest?"

There was another pause, and when she answered, the woman's voice was even harsher than before:

"It is he."

"What dost thou see now?"

"I am in the dark, and see nothing."

"Hold my hand and wait, thou wilt see more plainly anon. Now that thine eyes are accustomed to the darkness, describe to me the place in which thou standest."

There was another interval. Then she began again:

"I am in a dark and gloomy cavern. The roof is supported by heavy pillars, and they are carved in a style I have never seen before. On the ceilings and walls are paintings, and lying on a slab of stone – a dead man!"

Once more there was a long silence, until I began to think that I must have missed the next question and answer, and that this extraordinary catechism had terminated. Then the voice of Pharos recommenced:

"Place thine hand in mine and look once more."

This time the answer was even more bewildering than before.

"I see death," said the voice. "Death on every hand. It continues night and day, and the world is full of wailing!"

"It is well, I am satisfied," said Pharos. "Now lie down and sleep. In an hour thou wilt wake and wilt remember naught of what thou hast revealed to me."

Unable to make anything of what I had heard, I rose from the place where I had been sitting and began to pace the deck. The remembrance of the conversation to which I had listened irritated me beyond measure. Had I been permitted another insight into the deviltry of Pharos, or what was the meaning of it? I was still thinking of this when I heard a step behind me, and turning, found the man himself approaching me. In the dim light of the deck the appearance he presented was not prepossessing, but when he approached me I discovered he was in the best of humours, in fact in better spirits than I had ever yet seen him.

"I have been looking for you, Mr. Forrester," he said. "It is delightful on deck, and I am in just the humour for a chat."

I felt an inclination to tell him that I was not so ready, but before I could give him an answer he had noticed my preoccupation.

"You have something on your mind," he said. "I fear you are not as pleased with my hospitality as I could wish you to be. What is amiss? Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"Nothing, I thank you," I answered a little stiffly. "I have a slight headache and am not much disposed for conversation this evening."

Though the excuse I made was virtually true, I did not tell him that I had only felt it since I had overheard his conversation a few minutes before.

"You must let me cure you," he answered. "I am vain enough to flatter myself I have some knowledge of medicine."

I was beginning to wonder if there was anything of which he was ignorant. At the same time I was so suspicious of him that I had no desire to permit him to practise his arts on me. I accordingly thanked him, but declined his services, on the pretext that my indisposition was too trifling to call for so much trouble.

"As you will," he answered carelessly. "If you are not anxious to be cured, you must, of course, continue to suffer."

So saying, he changed the subject, and for upward of half an hour we wandered in the realm of art, discussing the methods of painters past and present. Upon this subject, as upon every other, I was amazed at the extent and depth of his learning. His taste, I discovered, was cosmopolitan, but if he had any preference it was for the early Tuscan school. We were still debating this point when a dark figure emerged from the companion and came along the deck toward us. Seeing that it was the Fräulein Valerie, I rose from my chair.

"How hot the night is, Mr. Forrester!" she said, as she came up to us. "There is thunder in the air, I am sure, and if I am not mistaken we shall have a storm before morning."

"I think it more than likely," I answered. "It is extremely oppressive below."

"It is almost unbearable," she answered, as she took the seat I offered her. "Notwithstanding that fact, I believe I must have fallen asleep in my cabin, for I can not remember what I have been doing since dinner."

Recalling the conversation I had overheard, and which had concluded with the instruction, "In an hour thou wilt wake and wilt remember naught of what thou hast revealed to me," I glanced at Pharos; but his face told me nothing.

"I fear you are not quite yourself, my dear," said the latter in a kindly tone, as he leaned toward her and placed his skinny hand upon her arm. "As you say, it must be the thundery evening. Our friend Forrester here is complaining of a headache. Though he will not let me experiment upon him, I think I shall have to see what I can do for you. I will consult my medicine chest at once."

With this he rose from his seat and, bidding us farewell, went below.

Presently the Fräulein rose and side by side we walked aft to the taffrail. Though I did my best to rouse her from the lethargy into which she had fallen, I was unsuccessful. She stood with her slender hands clasping the rail before her and her great, dark eyes staring out across the waste of water. Never had she looked more beautiful and certainly never more sad. Her unhappiness touched me to the heart, and, under the influence of my emotion, I approached a little nearer to her.

"You are unhappy," I said. "Is there no way in which I can help you?"

"Not one," she answered bitterly, still gazing steadfastly out to sea. "I am beyond the reach of help. Can you realise what it means, Mr. Forrester, to be beyond the reach of help?"

The greatest tragedienne the world has seen could not have invested those terrible words with greater or more awful meaning.

"No, no," I said; "I can not believe that. You are overwrought to-night. You are not yourself. You say things you do not mean."

This time she turned on me almost fiercely.

"Mr. Forrester," she said, "you try to console me; but, as I am beyond the reach of help, so I am also beyond the reach of comfort. If you could have but the slightest conception of what my life is, you would not wonder that I am so wretched."

"Will you not tell me about it?" I answered. "I think you know by this time that I may be trusted." Then, sinking my voice a little, I added a sentence that I could scarcely believe I had uttered when the words had passed my lips. "Valerie, if you do not already know it, let me tell you that, although we have not known each other a fortnight, I would give my life to serve you."

"And I believe you and thank you for it from the bottom of my heart," she answered with equal earnestness; "but I can tell you nothing." Then, after an interval of silence that must have lasted for some minutes, she declared her intention of going below.

I accompanied her as far as the saloon, where she once more gave me her hand and wished me good-night. As soon as her door had closed behind her I went to my own cabin, scarcely able to realise that I had said what I had.

I do not know whether it was the heat, or whether it was the excitement under which I was labouring. At any rate, I soon discovered that I could not sleep. Valerie's beautiful, sad face haunted me continually. Hour after hour I lay awake, thinking of her and wondering what the mystery could be that surrounded her. The night was oppressively still. Save the throbbing of the screw, not a sound was to be heard. The yacht was upon an even keel, and scarcely a wavelet splashed against her side. At last I could bear the stifling cabin no longer, so, rising from my bunk, I dressed myself and sought the coolness of the deck. It was now close upon one o'clock, and when I emerged from the companion the moon was a hand's-breadth above the sea line, rising like a ball of gold. I seemed to have the entire world to myself. Around me was the glassy sea, black as ink, save where the moon shone upon it. Treading softly, as if I feared my footsteps would wake the sleeping ship, I stepped out of the companion and was about to make my way aft when something I saw before me caused me to stop. Standing on the grating which extended the whole width of the stern behind the after wheel, was a man whom I had no difficulty in recognising as Pharos. His hands were lifted above his head as if he were invoking the assistance of the Goddess of the Night. His head was thrown back, and from the place where I stood I could distinctly see the expression upon it. Anything more fiendish could scarcely be imagined. It was not the face of a human being, but that of a ghoul, so repulsive and yet so fascinating was it. Try how I would, I could not withdraw my eyes; and while I watched he spread his arms apart and cried something aloud in a language I did not recognise. For upward of a minute he remained in this attitude, then, descending from the grating, he made his way slowly along the deck and came toward the place where I stood.