of a wolf.
Lucas was still motionless.
I turned him over, not without difficulty; he was a heavy man, and would one day be fat if he continued to indulge himself. He did not appear to be injured; his pulse was strong, if a little too quick, and his color was good. But his breath came and went in the oddest whistling gasps and from time to time his whole body quivered in a kind of muscular spasm.
At first the men would not approach, and when they finally crept forward they refused to touch Lucas, even to carry him to a cabin. Reis Hassan finally came; his whiplash voice roused the men. I fancied they were almost as afraid of him as they were of the supernatural-but not quite. As soon as they had placed Lucas on his bed, they fled.
Hassan remained, standing just within the doorway, with his arms folded across his broad chest.
Never had I so regretted that I had not learned Arabic instead of Latin, Greek, and Hebrew. Hassan was not anxious to explain himself, and my incoherent questions were probably as unintelligible to him as his answers were to me. I thought he was rather ashamed of himself, but the cause of his shame was not easy to ascertain. He had slept too soundly, that much I was able to understand. All the crew had slept. It was not a natural sleep. It was like a spell- like magic. Otherwise they would, of course, have rushed to answer my call for help.
That much I grasped, or thought I grasped. It did not reassure me. I dismissed Hassan, after ordering him, as well as I could, to keep a man on watch for the remainder of the night. Lucas demanded my attention; and I was uneasily aware of the fact that I could no longer rely on my crew, not even my captain. If they had not already been frightened by tales of the Mummy, the night's adventure would have done the job.
Lucas was still unconscious. I did not dare consider the nature of the force that had struck him down so mysteriously; after examining him for a wound, and finding none, I decided to treat his condition as I would an ordinary fault. But none of my measures succeeded. His eyes remained closed; his broad chest rose and fell in the strange, stentorious breathing.
I began to be frightened. If this was a faint, it was an unnatural one. I rubbed his hands, slapped cold cloths on face and breast, elevated his feet-to no avail. Finally I turned to Evelyn, who was standing in the open doorway watching me.
'He is not…' She could not finish the sentence.
'No, nor in any danger of dying,' I replied quickly. 'I don't understand what is wrong with him.'
'I can't bear it,' Evelyn whispered; and then, as I started to speak, she added, 'No, Amelia, it is not what you think; I admire, I like Lucas; after his courage tonight, I can hardly help but respect him. But my grief at his illness is that of a friend and cousin. Only- I am beginning to feel as if I brought disaster on all those who love me. Am I somehow accursed? Must I leave those I love, lest I infect them, as my coming brought harm to Walter- and now to poor Lucas? Must I leave you, Amelia?'
'Don't talk nonsense,' I replied brusquely. Harshness was the only proper response to the rising hysteria in the child's voice. 'Go and fetch my smelling salts. If they are as strong as I remember, they ought to bring Lucas to his senses. They almost deprived me of mine.'
Evelyn nodded. I could always command her by appealing to her sense of duty. As she turned, I was electrified by the first sign of life I had seen in my patient. His lips parted. In a low, sighing voice, he enunciated a single word.
'He calls your name,' I said to Evelyn, who had paused. 'Come quickly; answer him.'
Evelyn knelt down by the bed. 'Lucas,' she said. 'Lucas, I am here. Speak to me.'
Lucas's hand moved. It groped feebly. Evelyn put her hand on his; the fingers closed around hers and clung.
'Evelyn,' Lucas repeated. 'My darling…'
'I am here,' Evelyn repeated. 'Can you hear me, Lucas?'
The sick man's head moved slightly. 'So far away,' he murmured, in a failing voice. 'Where are you, Evelyn? Don't leave me. I am all alone in the dark.,…'
Evelyn leaned over him. 'I won't leave you, Lucas. Wake up, I implore you. Speak to us.'
'Take my hand. Don't let me wander away… I am lost without you…'
This banal exchange continued for some time, with Lucas's weak voice pleading and Evelyn reassuring him. I shifted impatiently from one foot to the other. I suspected that Lucas was now fully conscious. He was certainly not delirious in the ordinary sense of the word. Only congential stupidity could have produced such inane dialogue. Finally Lucas got to the point. His eyes were still closed.
'Don't leave me,' he moaned. 'Never leave me, my love, my hope. Promise you will never leave me.'
Evelyn was bending so close that her unbound hair brushed his cheek. Her face was transformed by pity, and I rather hated to disillusion her, but I was not sure what she might promise in the heat of her innocent enthusiasm. If she made a promise, she would keep it. And I was determined that matters should proceed according to the plan I had conceived. So I said briskly, 'He is coming around now, Evelyn. Are you going to promise to marry him, or shall we try the smelling salts first?'
Evelyn sat back on her heels. Her face was flushed. Lucas opened his eyes.
'Evelyn,' he said slowly- but in his normal, deep tones, not the moaning whisper he had been using. 'It is really you? I dreamed. God preserve me from any more such dreams!'
'Thank God,' Evelyn said sincerely. 'How do you feel, Lucas? We were so frightened for you.'
'A little weak; otherwise, quite all right. It was your voice that brought me back, Evelyn; I seemed to be disembodied, lost and alone in a dark without a single spark of light. Then I heard you arrive and followed it as I would follow a beacon.'
'I am glad I could help you, Lucas.'
'You saved my life. Henceforth it is yours.'
Evelyn shook her head shyly. She was trying to free her hand; and after a moment Lucas let it go.
'Enough of this,' I interposed. 'I am not so much interested in your dreams, Lucas, as I am in what produced them. What happened? I saw you stumble and fall, but I could swear the creature did not throw any missile.'
'Nothing struck me,' Lucas answered. 'Nothing physical- You found no bruise, no mark, I suppose?'
He glanced down at his bared chest. Blushing still more deeply, Evelyn got to her feet and retreated from the bed.
'There was no mark I could see,' I replied. 'What did you feel?'
'Impossible to describe it! I can only imagine that a man struck by a bolt of lightning might have a similar sensation. First a shocking thrill, electrical in intensity; then utter weakness and unconsciousness. I felt myself falling, but did not feel my body strike the deck.'
'Splendid,' I said sarcastically. 'We now have a creature with the power to hurl thunderbolts. Emerson will be delighted to hear it'
'Emerson's opinions are of no interest to me,' Lucas said.
I slept soundly for what remained of the night. I believe Evelyn did not sleep at all. When I awoke it was to see the exquisite pink flush of dawn staining the sky, and Evelyn silhouetted against it. She was standing at the window; she was fully dressed, in a businesslike serge skirt and blouse. The moment I moved, she spoke.
'I am going to camp,' she announced firmly. 'You need not come, Amelia; I will be back soon, I will hurry. I hope to persuade Mr. Emerson to bring his brother here, and to set sail at once for Luxor. But
