Petrie!" he said in a softly musical voice which made me
start again, "to God be all praise that I have found you!"
Some emotion, which at present I could not define, was stirring within
me. Where had I seen this graceful Eastern youth before? Where had I
heard that soft voice?
"Do you wish to see me professionally?" I asked--yet even as I put
the question, I seemed to know it unnecessary.
"So you know me no more?" said the stranger--and his teeth gleamed in
a slight smile.
Heavens! I knew now what had struck that vibrant chord within me! The
voice, though infinitely deeper, yet had an unmistakable resemblance
to the dulcet tones of Karamaneh--of Karamaneh, whose eyes haunted my
dreams, whose beauty had done much to embitter my years.
The Oriental youth stepped forward, with outstretched hand.
"So you know me no more?" he repeated; "but I know _you_, and give
praise to Allah that I have found you!"
I stepped back, pressed the electric switch, and turned, with leaping
heart, to look into the face of my visitor. It was a face of the
purest Greek beauty, a face that might have served as a model for
Praxiteles; the skin had a golden pallor, which, with the crisp black
hair and magnetic yet velvety eyes, suggested to my fancy that this
was the young Antinoues risen from the Nile, whose wraith now appeared
to me out of the night. I stifled a cry of surprise, not unmingled
with gladness.
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