And yet it was all so naive and unconscious; so girlish and simple.She was so fresh in her views and ideas, and had so little thought ofself, that in her companionship I forgot for the time all the troublesand mysteries which enmeshed the house; and I felt like a boy again....
The most interesting of the sarcophagi were undoubtedly the three inMr. Trelawny's room. Of these, two were of dark stone, one of porphyryand the other of a sort of ironstone. These were wrought with somehieroglyphs. But the third was strikingly different. It was of someyellow-brown substance of the dominating colour effect of Mexican onyx,which it resembled in many ways, excepting that the natural pattern ofits convolutions was less marked. Here and there were patches almosttransparent--certainly translucent. The whole chest, cover and all,was wrought with hundreds, perhaps thousands, of minute hieroglyphics,seemingly in an endless series. Back, front, sides, edges, bottom, allhad their quota of the dainty pictures, the deep blue of theircolouring showing up fresh and sharply edge in the yellow stone. Itwas very long, nearly nine feet; and perhaps a yard wide. The sidesundulated, so that there was no hard line. Even the corners took suchexcellent curves that they pleased the eye. "Truly," I said, "thismust have been made for a giant!"
"Or for a giantess!" said Margaret.
This sarcophagus stood near to one of the windows. It was in onerespect different from all the other sarcophagi in the place. All theothers in the house, of whatever material--granite, porphyry,ironstone, basalt, slate, or wood--were quite simple in form within.Some of them were plain of interior surface; others were engraved, inwhole or part, with hieroglyphics. But each and all of them had noprotuberances or uneven surface anywhere. They might have been usedfor baths; indeed, they resembled in many ways Roman baths of stone ormarble which I had seen. Inside this, however, was a raised space,outlined like a human figure. I asked Margaret if she could explain itin any way. For answer she said:
"Father never wished to speak about this. It attracted my attentionfrom the first; but when I asked him about it he said: 'I shall tellyou all about it some day, little girl--if I live! But not yet! Thestory is not yet told, as I hope to tell it to you! Some day, perhapssoon, I shall know all; and then we shall go over it together. And amighty interesting story you will find it--from first to last!' Onceafterward I said, rather lightly I am afraid: 'Is that story of thesarcophagus told yet, Father?' He shook his head, and looked at megravely as he said: 'Not yet, little girl; but it will be--if Ilive--if I live!' His repeating that phrase about his living ratherfrightened me; I never ventured to ask him again."
Somehow this thrilled me. I could not exactly say how or why; but itseemed like a gleam of light at last. There are, I think, moments whenthe mind accepts something as true; though it can account for neitherthe course of the thought, nor, if there be more than one thought, theconnection between them. Hitherto we had been in such outer darknessregarding Mr. Trelawny, and the strange visitation which had fallen onhim, that anything which afforded a clue, even of the faintest and mostshadowy kind, had at the outset the enlightening satisfaction of acertainty. Here were two lights of our puzzle. The first that Mr.Trelawny associated with this particular curio a doubt of his ownliving. The second that he had some purpose or expectation with regardto it, which he would not disclose, even to his daughter, tillcomplete. Again it was to be borne in mind that this sarcophagusdiffered internally from all the others. What meant that odd raisedplace? I said nothing to Miss Trelawny, for I feared lest I shouldeither frighten her or buoy her up with future hopes; but I made up mymind that I would take an early opportunity for further investigation.
Close beside the sarcophagus was a low table of green stone with redveins in it, like bloodstone. The feet were fashioned like the paws ofa jackal, and round each leg was twined a full-throated snake wroughtexquisitely in pure gold. On it rested a strange and very beautifulcoffer or casket of stone of a peculiar shape. It was something like asmall coffin, except that the longer sides, instead of being cut offsquare like the upper or level part were continued to a point. Thus itwas an irregular septahedron, there being two planes on each of the twosides, one end and a top and bottom. The stone, of one piece of whichit was wrought, was such as I had never seen before. At the base itwas of a full green, the colour of emerald without, of course, itsgleam. It was not by any means dull, however, either in colour orsubstance, and was of infinite hardness and fineness of texture. Thesurface was almost that of a jewel. The colour grew lighter as itrose, with gradation so fine as to be imperceptible, changing to a fineyellow almost of the colour of "mandarin" china. It was quite unlikeanything I had ever seen, and did not resemble any stone or gem that Iknew. I took it to be some unique mother-stone, or matrix of some gem.It was wrought all over, except in a few spots, with finehieroglyphics, exquisitely done and coloured with the same blue-greencement or pigment that appeared on the sarcophagus. In length it wasabout two feet and a half; in breadth about half this, and was nearly afoot high. The vacant spaces were irregularly distributed about thetop running to the pointed end. These places seemed less opaque thanthe rest of the stone. I tried to lift up the lid so that I might seeif they were translucent; but it was securely fixed. It fitted soexactly that the whole coffer seemed like a single piece of stonemysteriously hollowed from within. On the sides and edges were someodd-looking protuberances wrought just as finely as any other portionof the coffer which had been sculptured by manifest design in thecutting of the stone. They had queer-shaped holes or hollows,different in each; and, like the rest, were covered with thehieroglyphic figures, cut finely and filled in with the same blue-greencement.
On the other side of the great sarcophagus stood another small table ofalabaster, exquisitely chased with symbolic figures of gods and thesigns of the zodiac. On this table stood a case of about a foot squarecomposed of slabs of rock crystal set in a skeleton of bands of redgold, beautifully engraved with hieroglyphics, and coloured with a bluegreen, very much the tint of the figures on the sarcophagus and thecoffer. The whole work was quite modern.
But if the case was modern what it held was not. Within, on a cushionof cloth of gold as fine as silk, and with the peculiar softness of oldgold, rested a mummy hand, so perfect that it startled one to see it.A woman's hand, fine and long, with slim tapering fingers and nearly asperfect as when it was given to the embalmer thousands of years before.In the embalming it had lost nothing of its beautiful shape; even thewrist seemed to maintain its pliability as the gentle curve lay on thecushion. The skin was of a rich creamy or old ivory colour; a duskyfair skin which suggested heat, but heat in shadow. The greatpeculiarity of it, as a hand, was that it had in all seven fingers,there being two middle and two index fingers. The upper end of thewrist was jagged, as though it had been broken off, and was stainedwith a red-brown stain. On the cushion near the hand was a smallscarab, exquisitely wrought of emerald.
"That is another of Father's mysteries. When I asked him about it hesaid that it was perhaps the most valuable thing he had, except one.When I asked him what that one was, he refused to tell me, and forbademe to ask him anything concerning it. 'I will tell you,' he said, 'allabout it, too, in good time--if I live!'"
"If I live!" the phrase again. These three things grouped together,the Sarcophagus, t
he Coffer, and the Hand, seemed to make a trilogy ofmystery indeed!
At this time Miss Trelawny was sent for on some domestic matter. Ilooked at the other curios in the room; but they did not seem to haveanything like the same charm for me, now that she was away. Later onin the day I was sent for to the boudoir where she was consulting withMrs. Grant as to the lodgment of Mr. Corbeck. They were in doubt as towhether he should have a room close to Mr. Trelawny's or quite awayfrom it, and had thought it well to ask my advice on the subject. Icame to the conclusion that he had better not be too near; for thefirst at all events, he could easily be moved closer if necessary.When Mrs. Grant had gone, I asked Miss Trelawny how it came that thefurniture of this room, the boudoir in which we were, was so differentfrom the other rooms of the house.
"Father's forethought!" she answered. "When I first came, he thought,and rightly enough, that I might get frightened with so many records ofdeath and the tomb everywhere. So he had this room and the littlesuite off it--that door opens into the sitting-room--where I slept lastnight, furnished with pretty things. You see, they are all beautiful.That cabinet belonged to the great Napoleon."
"There is nothing Egyptian in these rooms at all then?" I asked, ratherto show interest in what she had said than anything else, for thefurnishing of the room was apparent. "What a lovely cabinet! May Ilook at it?"
"Of course! with the greatest pleasure!" she answered, with a smile."Its finishing, within and without, Father says, is absolutelycomplete." I stepped over and looked at it closely. It was made oftulip wood, inlaid in patterns; and was mounted in ormolu. I pulledopen one of the drawers, a deep one where I could see the work to greatadvantage. As I pulled it, something rattled inside as though rolling;there was a tinkle as of metal on metal.
"Hullo!" I said. "There is something in here. Perhaps I had betternot open it."
"There is nothing that I know of," she answered. "Some of thehousemaids may have used it to put something by for the time andforgotten it. Open it by all means!"
I pulled open the drawer; as I did so, both Miss Trelawny and I startedback in amazement.
There before our eyes lay a number of ancient Egyptian lamps, ofvarious sizes and of strangely varied shapes.
We leaned over them and looked closely. My own heart was beating likea trip-hammer; and I could see by the heaving of Margaret's bosom thatshe was strangely excited.
Whilst we looked, afraid to touch and almost afraid to think, there wasa ring at the front door; immediately afterwards Mr. Corbeck, followedby Sergeant Daw, came into the hall. The door of the boudoir was open,and when they saw us Mr. Corbeck came running in, followed more slowlyby the Detective. There was a sort of chastened joy in his face andmanner as he said impulsively:
"Rejoice with me, my dear Miss Trelawny, my luggage has come and all mythings are intact!" Then his face fell as he added, "Except the lamps.The lamps that were worth all the rest a thousand times...." Hestopped, struck by the strange pallor of her face. Then his eyes,following her look and mine, lit on the cluster of lamps in the drawer.He gave a sort of cry of surprise and joy as he bent over and touchedthem:
"My lamps! My lamps! Then they are safe--safe--safe! ... But how, inthe name of God--of all the Gods--did they come here?"
We all stood silent. The Detective made a deep sound of in-takingbreath. I looked at him, and as he caught my glance he turned his eyeson Miss Trelawny whose back was toward him.
There was in them the same look of suspicion which had been there whenhe had spoken to me of her being the first to find her father on theoccasions of the attacks.
Chapter IX
The Need of Knowledge
Mr. Corbeck seemed to go almost off his head at the recovery of thelamps. He took them up one by one and looked them all over tenderly,as though they were things that he loved. In his delight andexcitement he breathed so hard that it seemed almost like a catpurring. Sergeant Daw said quietly, his voice breaking the silencelike a discord in a melody:
"Are you quite sure those lamps are the ones you had, and that werestolen?"