A few of the curious among the gossips went to see the house the Princess had lately occupied, where she had “received” society and managed to shock it as well. It was shut up, and looked as if it had not been inhabited for years. And the gossips said it was “strange, very strange!” and confessed themselves utterly mystified. But the fact remained that Gervase had disappeared and the Princess Ziska with him. “However,” said Society, “they can’t possibly hide themselves for long. Two such remarkable personalities are bound to appear again somewhere. I daresay we shall come across them in Paris or on the Riviera. The world is much too small for the holding of a secret.” And presently, with the approach of spring, and the gradual break-up of the Cairo “season,” Denzil Murray and his sister sailed from Alexandria _en route_ for Venice. Dr. Dean accompanied them; so did the Fulkewards and Ross Courtney. The Chetwynd-Lyles went by a different steamer, “old” Lady Fulkeward being quite too much for the patience of those sweet but still unengaged “girls” Muriel and Dolly. One night when the great ship was speeding swiftly over a calm sea, and Denzil, lost in sorrowful meditation, was gazing out over the trackless ocean with pained and passionate eyes which could see nothing but the witching and exquisite beauty of the Princess Ziska, now possessed and enjoyed by Gervase, Dr. Dean touched him on the arm and said: “Denzil, have you ever read Shakespeare?” Denzil started and forced a smile. “Why, yes, of course!” “Then you know the lines-- ‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy?’ The Princess Ziska was one of those ‘things.’” Denzil regarded him in wonderment. “What do you mean?” “Oh, of course, you will think me insane,” said the Doctor, resignedly. “People always take refuge in thinking that those who tell them uncomfortable truths are lunatics. You’ve heard me talk of ghosts?--ghosts that walk and move about us like human beings?--and they are generally very brilliant and clever impersonations of humanity, too--and that nevertheless are _not_ human?” Denzil assented. “The Princess Ziska was a ghost!” concluded the Doctor, folding his arms very tightly across his chest and nodding defiantly. “Nonsense!” cried Denzil. “You are mad!” “Precisely the remark I thought you would make!” and Dr. Dean unfolded his arms again and smiled triumphantly. “Therefore, my dear boy, let us for the future avoid this subject. I know what I know; I can distinguish phantoms from reality, and I am not deceived by appearances. But the world prefers ignorance to knowledge, and even so let it be. Next time I meet a ghost I’ll keep my own counsel!” He paused a moment,--then added: “You remember I told you I was hunting down that warrior of old time, Araxes?” Denzil nodded, a trifle impatiently.