CHAPTER III
SEALS OF DESTINY
Ten minutes later she returned, panting, her face pale and haggard, hermouth hard-set. For a moment she stood in silence upon the threshold ofthe open doors leading to the grounds, her hand pressed to her breast ina strenuous endeavour to calm herself. She feared that her father mightdetect her agitation, for he was so quick in discovering in her theslightest unusual emotion. She glanced behind her with an expressionfull of fear, as though dreading the reappearance of that man who hadcompelled her to follow him out into the night. Then she looked at herfather, who, still seated motionless with his back to her, was busy withhis fingers upon something on the blotting-pad before him.
In that brief absence her countenance had entirely changed. She was paleto the lips, with drawn brows, while about her mouth played a hard,bitter expression, as though her mind were bent upon some desperateresolve.
That the man who had come there by stealth was no stranger was evident;yet that between them was some deep-rooted enmity was equally apparent.Nevertheless, he held her irresistibly within his toils. Hisclean-shaven face was a distinctly evil one. His eyes were set too closetogether, and in his physiognomy was something unscrupulous andrelentless. He was not the man for a woman to trust.
She stepped back from the threshold, and for a few seconds haltedoutside, her ears strained to catch any sound. Then, as thoughreassured, she pushed the chestnut hair from her hot, fevered brow, heldher breath with strenuous effort, and, re-entering the library, advancedto her father's side.
"I wondered where you had gone, dear," he said in his low, calm voice,as he detected her presence. "I hoped you would not leave me for long,for it is not very often we enjoy an evening so entirely alone asto-night."
"Leave you, dear old dad! Why, of course not!" She laughed gaily, asthough nothing had occurred to disturb her peace of mind. "We were justabout to look at those seals Professor Moyes sent you to-day, weren'twe? Here they are;" and she placed them before the helpless andafflicted man, endeavouring to remain undisturbed, and taking a chair athis side, as was her habit when they sat together.
"Yes," he said cheerfully. "Let us see what they are."
The first of the yellow sulphur-casts which he examined bore thefull-length figure of an abbot, with mitre and crosier, in the act ofgiving his blessing. Behind him were three circular towers with pointedroofs surmounted by crosses, while around, in bold early Gothic letters,ran the inscription
+ S. BENEDITI . ABBATIS . SANTI . AMBROSII . D'RANCIA +
Slowly and with great care his fingers travelled over the raised lettersand design of the oval cast. Then, having also examined the battered oldbronze matrix, he said, "A most excellent specimen, and in first-classpreservation, too! I wonder where it has been found? In Italy, withoutdoubt."
"What do you make it out to be, dad?" asked the girl, seated in thechair at his side and as interested in the little antiquity as he washimself.
"Thirteenth century, my dear--early thirteenth century," he declaredwithout hesitation. "Genuine, quite genuine, no doubt. The matrix showssigns of considerable wear. Is there much patina upon it?" he asked.
She turned it over, displaying that thick green corrosion which bronzeacquires only by great age.
"Yes, quite a lot, dad. The raised portion at the back is pierced by ahole very much worn."
"Worn by the thong by which it was attached to the girdle of successiveabbots through centuries," he declared. "From its inscription, it is theseal of the Abbot Benedict of the Monastery of St. Ambrose, of Rancia,in Lombardy. Let me think, now. We should find the history of that houseprobably in Sassolini's _Memorials_. Will you get it down, dear?--topshelf of the fifth case, on the left."
Though blind, he knew just where he could put his hand upon all his mostcherished volumes, and woe betide any one who put a volume back in itswrong place!
Gabrielle rose, and, obtaining the steps, reached down the greatleather-bound quarto book, which she carried to a reading-desk and atonce searched the index.
The work was in Italian, a language which she knew fairly well; andafter ten minutes or so, during which time the blind man continuedslowly to trace the inscription with his finger-tips, she said, "Here itis, dad. 'Rancia, near Cremona. The religious brotherhood was foundedthere in 1132, and the Abbot Benedict was third abbot, from 1218 to1231. The church still exists. The magnificent pulpit in marble,embellished with mosaics, presented in 1272, rests on six columnssupported by lions, with an inscription: "_Nicolaus de Montavamarmorarius hoc opus fecit._" Opposite it is the ambo (1272), in asimple style, with a representation of Jonah being swallowed by a whale.In the choir is the throne adorned by mosaics, and the Cappella di SanPantaleone contains the blood of the saint, together with some relics ofthe Abbot Benedict. The cloisters still exist, though, of course, themonastery is now suppressed.'"
"And this," remarked Sir Henry, turning over the old bronze seal in hishand, "belonged to the Abbot Ambrose six hundred and fifty years ago!"
"Yes, dad," declared the girl, returning to his side and taking thematrix herself to examine it under the green-shaded reading-lamp. "Thestudy of seals is most interesting. It carries one back into the dimages. I hope the Professor will allow you to keep these casts for yourcollection."
"Yes, I know he will," responded the old Baronet. "He is well aware whata deep interest I take in my hobby."
"And also that you are one of the first authorities in the world uponthe subject," added his daughter.
The old man sighed. Would that he could see with his eyes once again;for, after all, the sense of touch was but a poor substitute for that ofsight!
He drew towards him the impression of the second of the oval seals. Thecentre was divided into two portions. Above was the half-length figureof a saint holding a closed book in his hand, and below was a youth withlong hands in the act of adoration. Between them was a scroll upon whichwas written: "Sc. Martine O.P.N.," while around the seal were the wordsin Gothic characters:
+ SIGIL . HEINRICHI . PLEBANI . D' DOELSC'H +
"This is fourteenth century," pronounced the Baronet, "and is fromDulcigno, on the Adriatic--the seal of Henry, the vicar of the church ofthat place. From the engraving and style," he said, still fingering itwith great care, now and then turning to the matrix in order to satisfyhimself, "I should place it as having been executed about 1350. But itis really a very beautiful specimen, done at a time when the art ofseal-engraving was at its height. No engraver could to-day turn out amore ornate and at the same time bold design. Moyes is really veryfortunate in securing this. You must write, my dear, and ask him howthese latest treasures came into his hands."
At his request she got down another of the ponderous volumes ofSassolini from the high shelf, and read to him, translating from theItalian the brief notice of the ancient church of Dulcigno, which, itappeared, had been built in the Lombard-Norman style of the eleventhcentury, while the campanile, with columns from Paestum, dated from1276.
The third seal, the circular one, was larger than the rest, being quitetwo inches across. In the centre of the top half was the Madonna withChild, seated, a male and female figure on either side. Below were threefemale figures on either side, the two scenes being divided by a festoonof flowers, while around the edge ran in somewhat more moderncharacters--those of the early sixteenth century--the following:
+ SIGILLVM . VICARIS . GENERALIS . ORDINIS . BEATA . MARIA . D' MON .CARMEL +
"This," declared Sir Henry, after a long and most minute examination,"is a treasure probably unequalled in the collection at Cambridge, beingthe actual seal of the Vicar-General of the Carmelite order. Its date Ishould place at about 1150. Look well, dear, at those flower garlands;how beautifully they are engraved! Seal-making is, alas! to-day a lostart. We have only crude and heavy attempts. The company seal seemsto-day the only thing the engraver can turn out--those machines whichemboss upon a big red wafer." And his busy fingers were continuouslyfeeling the great circular bronze matrix,
and a moment afterwards itssulphur-cast.
He was an enthusiastic antiquary, and long ago, in the days when theworld was light, had read papers before the Society of Antiquaries atBurlington House upon mediaeval seals and upon the early Latin codices.Nowadays, however, Gabrielle acted as his eyes; and so devoted was sheto her father that she took a keen interest in his dry-as-dust hobbies,so that after his long tuition she could decipher and read atwelfth-century Latin manuscript, on its scrap of yellow, crinkledparchment, and with all its puzzling abbreviations, almost as well asany professor of palaeography at the universities, while inscriptionsupon Gothic seals were to her as plain as a paragraph in a newspaper.More than once, white-haired, spectacled professors who came toGlencardine as her father's guests were amazed at her intelligentconversation upon points which were quite abstruse. Indeed, she had noidea of the remarkable extent of her own antiquarian knowledge, all ofit gathered from the talented man whose affliction had kept her so closeat his side.
For quite an hour her father fingered the three seal-impressions,discussing them with her in the language of a savant. She herselfexamined them minutely and expressed opinions. Now and then she glancedapprehensively to that open window. He pointed out to her where she waswrong in her estimate of the design of the circular one, explaining atechnical and little-known detail concerning the seals of the Carmeliteorder.
From the window a cool breath of the night-wind came in, fanning thecurtains and carrying with it the sweet scent of the flowers without.
"How refreshing!" exclaimed the old man, drawing in a deep breath. "Thenight is very close, Gabrielle, dear. I fear we shall have thunder."
"There was lightning only a moment ago," explained the girl. "Shall Iput the casts into your collection, dad?"
"Yes, dear. Moyes no doubt intends that I should keep them."
Gabrielle rose, and, passing across to a large cabinet with many shallowdrawers, she opened one, displaying a tray full of casts of seals, eachneatly arranged, with its inscription and translation placed beneath,all in her own clear handwriting.
Some of the drawers contained the matrices as well as the casts; but asmatrices of mediaeval seals are rarities, and seldom found anywhere savein the chief public museums, it is no wonder that the bulk of privatecollections consist of impressions.
Presently, at the Baronet's suggestion, she closed and locked thecabinet, and then took up a bundle of business documents, which shecommenced to sort out and arrange.
She acted as her father's private secretary, and therefore knew much ofhis affairs. But many things were to her a complete mystery, be it said.Though devoted to her father, she nevertheless sometimes became filledwith a vague suspicion that the source of his great income was notaltogether an open and honest one. The papers and letters she read tohim often contained veiled information which sorely puzzled her, andwhich caused her many hours of wonder and reflection. Her father livedalone, with only her as companion. Her stepmother, a young,good-looking, and giddy woman, never dreamed the truth.
What would she do, how would she act, Gabrielle wondered, if ever shegained sight of some of those private papers kept locked in the cavitybeyond the black steel door concealed by the false bookcase at thefarther end of the fine old restful room?
The papers she handled had been taken from the safe by Sir Henryhimself. And they contained a man's secret.
The House of Whispers Page 3