Egypt -- Fiction; Mystery and detective stories; Short stories
Crouching down in the cart and almost holding my breath, I watched
through a hole in the side of the ramshackle vehicle that fence to
which I have already referred as closing the end of the courtyard
which adjoined the Sûk el-Attârin. A spear of moonlight, penetrating
through some gap in the surrounding buildings, silvered its extreme
edge. To an accompaniment of much kicking and heavy breathing, into
this natural limelight arose the black countenance of "The Dove."
To my unbounded joy I perceived that his nose was lavishly decorated
with sticking-plaster and that his right eye was temporarily off duty.
Eight fat fingers clutching at the top of the woodwork, the bloated
negro regarded the apparently empty yard for a space of some three
seconds, ere lowering his ungainly bulk to the level of the street
again. Followed a faint "pop" and a gurgling quite unmistakable. I
heard him walking back to the door, as I cautiously stood up and
again surveyed the interior of the room.
V
Egypt, as the earliest historical records show, has always been a land
of magic, and according to native belief it is to-day the theater of
many super-natural dramas. For my own part, prior to the episode which
I am about to relate, my personal experiences of the kind had been
limited and unconvincing. That Abû Tabâh possessed a sort of uncanny
power akin to second sight I knew, but I regarded it merely as a form
of telepathy. His presence at the preparation of the secret perfume
did not surprise me, for a belief in the efficacy of magical
operations prevailed, as I was aware, even among the more cultured
Moslems. My scepticism, however, was about to be rudely shaken.
As I raised my head above the ledge of the window and looked into the
room, I perceived the Lady Zuleyka seated on the cushioned _dîwan_,
her hands resting upon an open roll of parchment which lay upon the
table beside a massive brass chest of antique native workmanship. The
lid of the chest was raised, and the interior seemed to be empty, but
near it upon the table I observed a number of gold-stoppered vessels
of Venetian glass and each of which was of a different color.
Beside a brazier wherein glowed a charcoal fire, Abû Tabâh stood;
and into the fire he cast alternately strips of paper bearing writing
of some sort and little dark brown pastilles which he took from
a sandalwood box set upon a sort of tripod beside him. They were
composed of some kind of aromatic gum in which benzoin seemed to
predominate, and the fumes from the brazier filled the room with
a blue mist.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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