Pausing under a low
archway over which in Egyptian characters appeared the faded
legend, "Sta Ged Oor," they found a Nubian slave blocking the dim
entrance.
"I leave you here," said Flossy hurriedly, "as even I left once
before--only then I was lightly assisted by his sandaled foot," he
added, rubbing himself thoughtfully. "But better luck to you."
As his companion retreated swiftly, the Chevalier turned to the
slave and would have passed in, but the man stopped him. "Got a
pass, boss?"
"No," said the Chevalier.
The man looked at him keenly. "Oh, I see! one of de profesh."
The Chevalier nodded haughtily. The man preceded him by devious,
narrow ways and dark staircases, coming abruptly upon a small
apartment where the Princess sat on a low divan. A single lamp
inclosed in an ominous wire cage flared above her. Strange things
lay about the floor and shelves, and from another door he could see
hideous masks, frightful heads, and disproportionate faces. He
shuddered slightly, but recovered himself and fell on his knees
before her. "I lofe you," he said madly. "I have always lofed
you!"
"For how long?" she asked, with a strange smile.
He covertly consulted his shirt cuff. "For tree tousand fife
hundred and sixty-two years," he said rapidly.
She looked at him disdainfully. "The doctor has been putting you
up to that! It won't wash! I don't refer to your shirt cuff," she
added with deep satire.
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