Egypt -- Fiction; Mystery and detective stories; Short stories
You will understand that these childish superstitions sometimes
overcome me, because I have lived so long among those who believe
them; but to me, a Greek, possessing the consolation of the true
religion, it was only momentary, this cold fear which belongs to
ignorance and is bred in the blood of the Moslem but finds no place
in the heart of a true Christian.
And now the Fates again took a hand in the game. The pack of curs in
the distant palm grove set up a sudden tempest of sound, so that they
seemed to have become possessed of a million devils. It was a
disturbance infinitely louder and more prolonged than that with which
the dogs had greeted my appearance, and I had barely time to throw
myself flat in the depths of a black and friendly shadow ere the two
negroes, monstrous in the moonlight, passed me silently and trotted
off in the direction from whence the uproar proceeded. You will say,
no doubt, that a madness as great as that of the dogs possessed me;
but because what I tell you is true, you must not be surprised to find
it strange.
Allowing the negroes time to reach the gate for which I divined them
to be making, I ran across the moon-bathed garden to the door of the
pavilion.
You must understand that my madness was not entirely without method;
for I had a vague plan in my mind: it was to ascertain the character
of the lock upon the bronze door (for you must know that I am skilled
in the craft of the locksmith), and then, passing beyond the pavilion,
which I was assured was the treasure-house of Ismail, to make my
escape over the garden wall at some point to the west and return to
my base in the desert ravine armed with a knowledge of the enemy's
dispositions.
But, as I have said, the Fates took a hand. The sweet-voiced singer
ceased her song as I approached the pavilion; and, at the moment that
I set foot upon the lower step, her voice--by Allah! whose Name be
exalted, it was sweet as honey!--addressed to me these words:
"O my master, at last thou art come! Here is the key! enter ere they
return."
Whilst I stared blankly upward to the open lattice from whence the
invisible speaker thus addressed me, an antique key wrapped in a piece
of perfumed silk, fell almost upon my head!
III
Dazed though I was by the complete unexpectedness of this happening
I doubt if I should have had the temerity to pursue the matter further
that night but for the sound of fleetly running footsteps of which at
this moment I became aware.
My escape was cut off! If I endeavored to pass around the pavilion in
accordance with my original plan I should undoubtedly be perceived. My
only hope lay in accepting the invitation so singularly given. With
trembling hands I fitted the key to the cumbersome lock, opened the
door, and entered the pavilion. My presence of mind had not completely
deserted me and before closing the door I withdrew the key.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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