"Of course I do. She has the Egyptian type of form and
countenance. Consider only the resemblance between her and the
dancer she chose to represent the other night--the Ziska-Charmazel
of the antique sculpture on her walls!"

"Ay, but if you grant one resemblance, you must also admit
another," said the Doctor quickly. "The likeness between yourself
and the old-world warrior, Araxes, is no less remarkable!" Gervase
moved uneasily, and a sudden pallor blanched his face, making it
look wan and haggard in the light of the rising moon. "And it is
rather singular," went on the imperturbable savant, "that
according to the legend or history--whichever you please to
consider it,--for in time, legends become histories and histories
legends--Araxes should have been the lover of this very Ziska-
Charmazel, and that you, who are the living portrait of Araxes,
should suddenly become enamored of the equally living portrait of
the dead woman! You must own, that to a mere onlooker and observer
like myself, it seems a curious coincidence!"

Gervase smoked on in silence, his level brows contracted in a
musing frown.

"Yes, it seems curious," he said at last, "but a great many
curious coincidences happen in this world--so many that we, in our
days of rush and turmoil, have not time to consider them as they
come or go. Perhaps of all the strange things in life, the sudden
sympathies and the headstrong passions which spring up in a day or
a night between certain men and certain women are the strangest. I
look upon you, Doctor, as a very clever fellow with just a little