I could only stare, owlishly.
"You are wondering where we are?" He answered the unspoken question:
"Above the library, between the outside wall and the chimney-stacks.
You'd have to tear the house down to find it, without the Key." As
he spoke, he was lighting two of the candles Achmet had provided us
with, and although his hand was quite steady, he had become
frightfully pale. I, too, felt myself growing paler, felt again the
cold grue, as if the wind of death had stirred my hair.
"Reach into my breast pocket and you'll find a small vial. Put a
drop of the contents on your handkerchief and hold it against your
mouth for a moment," said Mr. Jelnik, with a sharp glance at me.
I obeyed mechanically. The scent had an indescribably tingling,
spicy odor, and left a cool and grateful sensation in one's parched
and dry throat. My blurred vision cleared, my dull and throbbing
head was relieved.
"An Alexandrine Copt gave me that," he said, watching its effect
with satisfaction. "He told me he had gotten it from a temple
papyrus, and that it was undoubtedly one of the lost perfumes of
Punt, used by the higher priesthood in their mysteries.
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