grave was happening, something unearthly--how was it born exactly? The
man's proximity came like a shock. It had made him start. He
brought--thus the idea came unbidden to his mind--something with him
that galvanised him quite absurdly, as fear does, or delight, or great
wonder. There was a music in his voice too--a certain--well, he could
only call it lilt, that reminded him of plainsong, intoning, chanting.
Drawling was _not_ the word at all.

He tried to dismiss it as imagination, but it would not be dismissed.
The disturbance in himself was caused by something not imaginary, but
real. And then, for the first time, he discovered that the man had
brought a faint, elusive suggestion of perfume with him, an aromatic
odour, that made him think of priests and churches. The ghost of it
still lingered in the air. Ah, here then was the origin of the notion
that his voice had chanted: it was surely the suggestion of incense. But
incense, intoning, a compass to find the true north--at midnight in a
Desert hotel!

A touch of uneasiness ran through the curiosity and excitement that he
felt.

And he undressed for bed. "Confound my old imagination," he thought,
"what tricks it plays me! It'll keep me awake!"

But the questions, once started in his mind, continued. He must find
explanation of one kind or another before he could lie down and sleep,
and he found it at length in--the stars. The man was an astronomer of
sorts; possibly an astrologer into the bargain! Why not? The stars were
wonderful above Helouan. Was there not an observatory on the Mokattam
Hills, too, where tourists could use the telescopes on privileged days?