The Jewel of Seven Stars by Bram Stoker (ebook and pdf reader .txt) 📖

He glanced

around at us; and as his eyes lighted on Nurse Kennedy his eyebrows went

up a trifle. She noted the look, and glanced interrogatively at Miss

Trelawny, who flashed back a reply with a glance. She went quietly from

the room, closing the door behind her. Mr. Corbeck looked first at me,

with a strong man’s natural impulse to learn from a man rather than a

woman; then at Miss Trelawny, with a remembrance of the duty of

courtesy, and said:

 

“Tell me all about it. How it began and when!” Miss Trelawny looked at

me appeallingly; and forthwith I told him all that I knew. He seemed to

make no motion during the whole time; but insensibly the bronze face

became steel. When, at the end, I told him of Mr. Marvin’s visit and of

the Power of Attorney, his look began to brighten. And when, seeing his

interest in the matter, I went more into detail as to its terms, he

spoke:

 

“Good! Now I know where my duty lies!”

 

With a sinking heart I heard him. Such a phrase, coming at such a time,

seemed to close the door to my hopes of enlightenment.

 

“What do you mean?” I asked, feeling that my question was a feeble one.

 

His answer emphasized my fears:

 

“Trelawny knows what he is doing. He had some definite purpose in all

that he did; and we must not thwart him. He evidently expected

something to happen, and guarded himself at all points.”

 

“Not at all points!” I said impulsively. “There must have been a weak

spot somewhere, or he wouldn’t be lying here like that!” Somehow his

impassiveness surprised me. I had expected that he would find a valid

argument in my phrase; but it did not move him, at least not in the way

I thought. Something like a smile flickered over his swarthy face as he

answered me:

 

“This is not the end! Trelawny did not guard himself to no purpose.

Doubtless, he expected this too; or at any rate the possibility of it.”

 

“Do you know what he expected, or from what source?” The questioner was

Miss Trelawny.

 

The answer came at once: “No! I know nothing of either. I can guess.

. .” He stopped suddenly.

 

“Guess what?” The suppressed excitement in the girl’s voice was akin to

anguish. The steely look came over the swarthy face again; but there was

tenderness and courtesy in both voice and manner as he replied:

 

“Believe me, I would do anything I honestly could to relieve you

anxiety. But in this I have a higher duty.”

 

“What duty?”

 

“Silence!” As he spoke the word, the strong mouth closed like a steel

trap.

 

We all remained silent for a few minutes. In the intensity of our

thinking, the silence became a positive thing; the small sounds of life

within and without the house seemed intrusive. The first to break it

was Miss Trelawny. I had seen an idea-a hope-flash in her eyes; but she

steadied herself before speaking:

 

“What was the urgent subject on which you wanted to see me, knowing that

my Father was-not available?” The pause showed her mastery of her

thoughts.

 

The instantaneous change in Mr. Corbeck was almost ludicrous. His start

of surprise, coming close upon his iron-clad impassiveness, was like a

pantomimic change. But all idea of comedy was swept away by the tragic

earnestness with which he remembered his original purpose.

 

“My God!” he said, as he raised his hand from the chair back on which it

rested, and beat it down with a violence which would in itself have

arrested attention. His brows corrugated as he went on: “I quite

forgot! What a loss! Now of all times! Just at the moment of success!

He lying there helpless, and my tongue tied! Not able to raise hand or

foot in my ignorance of his wishes!”

 

“What is it? Oh, do tell us! I am so anxious about my dear Father! Is

it any new trouble? I hope not! oh, I hope not! I have had such

anxiety and trouble already! It alarms me afresh to hear you speak so!

Won’t you tell me something to allay this terrible anxiety and

uncertainty?”

 

He drew his sturdy form up to his full height as he said:

 

“Alas! I cannot, may not, tell you anything. It is his secret.” He

pointed to the bed. “And yet-and yet I came here for his advice, his

counsel, his assistance. And he lies there helpless… .And time is

flying by us! It may soon be too late!”

 

“What is it? what is it?” broke in Miss Trelawny in a sort of passion of

anxiety, her face drawn with pain. “Oh, speak! Say something! This

anxiety, and horror, and mystery are killing me!” Mr. Corbeck calmed

himself by a great effort.

 

“I may not tell you details; but I have had a great loss. My mission,

in which I have spent three years, was successful. I discovered all

that I sought-and more; and brought them home with me safely.

Treasures, priceless in themselves, but doubly precious to him by whose

wishes and instructions I sought them. I arrived in London only last

night, and when I woke this morning my precious charge was stolen.

Stolen in some mysterious way. Not a soul in London knew that I was

arriving. No one but myself knew what was in the shabby portmanteau

that I carried. My room had but one door, and that I locked and bolted.

The room was high in the house, five stories up, so that no entrance

could have been obtained by the window. Indeed, I had closed the window

myself and shut the hasp, for I wished to be secure in every way. This

morning the hasp was untouched… .And yet my portmanteau was empty.

The lamps were gone! …There! it is out. I went to Egypt to search

for a set of antique lamps which Mr. Trelawny wished to trace. With

incredible labour, and through many dangers, I followed them. I brought

them safe home… .And now!” He turned away much moved. Even his

iron nature was breaking down under the sense of loss.

 

Miss Trelawny stepped over and laid her hand on his arm. I looked at

her in amazement. All the passion and pain which had so moved her

seemed to have taken the form of resolution. Her form was erect, her

eyes blazed; energy was manifest in every nerve and fibre of her being.

Even her voice was full of nervous power as she spoke. It was apparent

that she was a marvellously strong woman, and that her strength could

answer when called upon.

 

“We must act at once! My Father’s wishes must be carried out if it is

possible to us. Mr. Ross, you are a lawyer. We have actually in the

house a man whom you consider one of the best detectives in London.

Surely we can do something. We can begin at once!” Mr. Corbeck took

new life from her enthusiasm.

 

“Good! You are your Father’s daughter!” was all he said. But his

admiration for her energy was manifested by the impulsive way in which

he took her hand. I moved over to the door. I was going to bring

Sergeant Daw; and from her look of approval, I knew that Margaret-Miss

Trelawny-understood. I was at the door when Mr. Corbeck called me back.

 

“One moment,” he said, “before we bring a stranger on the scene. It

must be borne in mind that he is not to know what you know now, that the

lamps were the objects of a prolonged and difficult and dangerous

search. All I can tell him, all that he must know from any source, is

that some of my property has been stolen. I must describe some of the

lamps, especially one, for it is of gold; and my fear is lest the thief,

ignorant of its historic worth, may, in order to cover up his crime,

have it melted. I would willingly pay ten, twenty, a hundred, a

thousand times its intrinsic value rather than have it destroyed. I

shall tell him only what is necessary. So, please, let me answer any

questions he may ask; unless, of course, I ask you or refer to either of

you for the answer.” We both nodded acquiescence. Then a thought

struck me and I said:

 

“By the way, if it be necessary to keep this matter quiet it will be

better to have it if possible a private job for the Detective. If once

a thing gets to Scotland Yard it is out of our power to keep it quiet,

and further secrecy may be impossible. I shall sound Sergeant Daw

before he comes up. If I say nothing, it will mean that he accepts the

task and will deal with it privately.” Mr. Corbeck answered at once:

 

“Secrecy is everything. The one thing I dread is that the lamps, or

some of them, may be destroyed at once.” To my intense astonishment

Miss Trelawny spoke out at once, but quietly, in a decided voice:

 

“They will not be destroyed; nor any of them!” Mr. Corbeck actually

smiled in amazement.

 

“How on earth do you know?” he asked. Her answer was still more

incomprehensible:

 

“I don’t know how I know it; but know it I do. I feel it all through

me; as though it were a conviction which has been with me all my life!”