I declined the stewardess’ offer of assistance, with a slight shake of the head, and shortly the four of us entered the doctor’s cabin, on the deck above. Stacey carefully closed the door. He was an old fellow student of mine, and already he knew much of the history of the beautiful Eastern girl and her brother Aziz.
“I fear there’s mischief afoot, Petrie,” he said.
“Thanks to your presence of mind, the ship’s gossips need know nothing of it.”
I glanced at Karamaneh who, since the moment of my arrival had never once removed her gaze from me; she remained in that state of passive fear in which I had found her, the lovely face pallid; and she stared at me fixedly in a childish, expressionless way which made me fear that the shock to which she had been subjected, whatever its nature, had caused a relapse into that strange condition of forgetfulness from which a previous shock had aroused her. I could see that Stacey shared my view, for:
“Something has frightened you,” he said gently, seating himself on the arm of Karamaneh’s chair and patting her hand as if to reassure her. “Tell us all about it.”
For the first time since our meeting that night, the girl turned her eyes from me and glanced up at Stacey, a sudden warm blush stealing over her face and throat and as quickly departing, to leave her even more pale than before. She grasped Stacey’s hand in both her own--and looked again at me.
“Send for Mr. Nayland Smith without delay!” she said, and her sweet voice was slightly tremulous. “He must be put on his guard!”
“Why?” I said. “For God’s sake tell us what has happened!”
Aziz who evidently was as anxious as myself for information, and who now knelt at his sister’s feet looking at her with that strange love, which was almost adoration, in his eyes, glanced back at me and nodded his head rapidly.
“Something”--Karamaneh paused, shuddering violently--“some dreadful thing, like a mummy escaped from its tomb, came into my room to-night through the porthole...”
“Through the porthole?” echoed Stacey, amazedly.
“Yes, yes, through the porthole! A creature tall and very, very thin. He wore wrappings--yellow wrappings--swathed about his head, so that only his eyes, his evil gleaming eyes, were visible.... From waist to knees he was covered, also, but his body, his feet, and his legs were bare...”