'Well, over the phone to-night she told me-- '
'Yes? '
'She told me she had the old feeling. '
'Not-- '
'So I understood, Doctor. I didn't waste another minute. I 'phoned Heliopolis and by a great stroke of luck found Jameson Hunter there with a bus, commissioned to pick up an American party now in Assouan. He was leaving in the morning, but I arranged with him to leave to-night. '
'Moonlight is bad for landing unless one knows the territory very well,' Jameson Hunter interrupted. 'Fortunately I knew of a good spot outside here, and I know another just behind Der-el-Bahari. If we crash, it will be a bad show for Airways.'
We hurried out to where a car waited. Dr. Petrie personally carrying the bag with its precious contents; and soon, to that ceaseless tooting which characterises Egyptian drivers, we were dashing through the narrow streets with pedestrians leaping like hares from right and left of our course.
Outside the town we ran into a cultivated area, but only quite a narrow belt. Here there was a road of sorts. We soon left this and were bumping and swaying over virgin, untamed desert. On we went, and on, in the bright moonlight. I seemed to have stepped over the borderline of reality. The glorious blaze of stars above me had become unreal, unfamiliar.
My companions were unreal--a dream company.
All were silent except Jameson Hunter, whose constant ejaculations of 'Jumping Jupiter!' when we took an unusually bad bump indicated that he at least had not succumbed to that sense of mystery which had claimed the rest of us.
On a long, gentle slope dangerously terminated by a ravine, the 'plane rested. Our baggage was quickly transferred and we climbed on board. A second before the roar of the propeller washed out conversation: 'Hunter,' said Weymouth, 'stretch her to the full. It's a race to save a man from living death....'
Chapter Second
RIMA
It was bumpy travelling, and I had never been a good sailor. Jameson Hunter stuck pretty closely to the river, but saved miles, of course, on the many long bends, notably on that big sweep immediately below Luxor, where, leaving the Nile Valley north of Farshut, we crossed fifty miles of practically arid desert, heading east-south-east for Kurna.
I was in poor condition, what with lack of sleep and lack of meals; and I will not enlarge upon my state of discomfort beyond saying that I felt utterly wretched. Sometimes I dozed; and then Rima's grave eyes would seem to be watching me in that maddeningly doubtful way. Once I dreamed that the slender ivory hands of Madame Ingomar beckoned to me....
I awoke in a cold perspiration. Above the roar of the propeller I seemed to hear her bell-like, hypnotic voice....
Who was this shadowy figure, feared by Petrie, by his wife--by Weymouth? What had he to do with the chief's sudden death? Were these people deliberately mystifying me, or were they afraid to tell me what they suspected?
Forester was convinced that Barton was dead. I could not doubt it. But in the incom- prehensible message scribbled at the last, Petrie seemed to have discovered a hope which was not apparent to me. Weymouth's words had reinforced it.
'A race to save a man from living death.'
Evidently he, too, believed... believed what?
It was no sort of problem for one in my condition, but at least I had done my job quicker than I could have hoped. Luck had been with me.
Above all, my own personal experience proved that there was something in it. Who had sent the telegrams? Who had uttered that cry in the courtyard? And why had I been followed to Cairo and followed back? Thank heaven, at last I had shaken off that leering, oblique-eyed spy.
Jameson Hunter searched for and eventu- ally found the landing-place which he had in mind--a flat, red-grey stretch east of the old caravan road.
I was past reliable observation, but personally I could see nothing of the camp. This perhaps was not surprising as it nestled at the head of a wadi, represented from our present elevation by an irregular black streak.
However, I was capable of appreciating that the selected spot could not be more than half a mile west of it. Hunter brought off a perfect landing, and with a swimming head I found myself tottering to the door.
When I had scrambled down:
'Wait a minute,' said Petrie. 'Ah, here's my bag. You've been through a stiff time, Greville. I am going to prescribe.'
His prescription was a shot of brandy. It did me a power of good.
'If we had known,' said Hunter, 'some sandwiches would have been a worthy effort. But the whole thing was so rushed--I hadn't time to think.'
He grinned cheerfully.
'Sorry my Phantom-Rolls isn't here to meet us,' he said. 'Someone must have mislaid it. It's a case of hoofing, but the going's good.'
Carrying our baggage, we set out in the moonlight. We had all fallen silent now, even Jameson Hunter. Only our crunching foot- steps broke the stillness. I think there is no place in the world so calculated to impress the spirit of man as this small piece of territory surrounding those two valleys where the quiet dead of Egypt lie. At night, when the moon sails full, he would be a pitiful soul who. passing that way, failed to feel the touch of eternity.
For my own part, as familiar landmarks appeared, a dreadful unrest compounded of sorrow and hope began to take possession of me. Above all, selfishly no doubt, I asked myself again and again--had Rima returned?
We were not expected until morning when the Cairo train arrived. Consequently I was astounded when on mounting the last ridge west of the wadi I saw Forester hurrying to meet us. Of course, I might have known, had I been capable of associating two ideas, that the sound of our approach must have aroused the camp.
Forester began to run.
Bad news casts a long shadow before it. I forgot my nausea, my weariness. It came to me like a revelation that something fresh had occurred--something even worse than that of which I had carried news to Cairo.
I was not alone in my premonition. I saw Weymouth grasp Petrie's arm.
Forester began shouting:
'Is that you, Greville? Thank God you've come!'
Now, breathless, he joined us.
'What is it?' I asked. 'What else had happened? '
'Only this, old man,' he panted. 'We locked the chiefs body in the big hut, as you remember. I had serious doubts about noti- fying the authorities. And to-night, about dusk, I went to... look at him.'
He grasped me by both shoulders.
'Greville!' Even in the moonlight I could see the wildness in his eyes. 'His body had vanished. '
'What!' Weymouth yelled.
'There isn't a trace--there isn't a clue. He's just been spirited away!'
2
'If only Nayland Smith could join us,' said Weymouth.
Dr. Petrie, looking very haggard in the lamplight, stared at him.
'The same thought had just crossed my own mind,' he replied. 'I am due to sail for England on Thursday. I had been counting the days. He's meeting me in...'
