"Begone!" cried a peculiarly low, hollow voice which sounded close to the friar's ear. He started, and as he looked up, the withering glance of Cheops fell full upon him; he screamed wildly and fled, uttering shrieks of terror.
Cheops looked after him with a scornful smile, and then fixing his superhuman eyes on Henry Seymour, he waited for him to speak. Few were the human beings who could have met that scowl unmoved. Those wild eyes, shaded as they were by the thick dark brows above them, always seemed to sink direct to the beholder's soul: Henry Seymour, however, shrank not from their gaze. A long pause ensued.
"You wish for help," said Cheops, "and it is in my power to assist you. I know you well, you are not what you seem; but fear not, and all your hopes shall be fulfilled."
"Alas! how can they?" said the youth, "when I know them not myself."
"Hear me!" returned Cheops; "you love Elvira, you would fain become her husband, and would yet not deprive her of the crown.
