THE JEW’S BREASTPLATE
My particular friend Ward Mortimer was one of the best men of his day ateverything connected with Oriental archæology. He had written largelyupon the subject, he had lived two years in a tomb at Thebes, while heexcavated in the Valley of the Kings, and finally he had created aconsiderable sensation by his exhumation of the alleged mummy ofCleopatra in the inner room of the Temple of Horus, at Philæ. With sucha record at the age of thirty-one, it was felt that a considerablecareer lay before him, and no one was surprised when he was elected tothe curatorship of the Belmore Street Museum, which carries with it thelectureship at the Oriental College, and an income which has sunk withthe fall in land, but which still remains at that ideal sum which islarge enough to encourage an investigator, but not so large as toenervate him.
There was only one reason which made Ward Mortimer’s position a littledifficult at the Belmore Street Museum, and that was the extremeeminence of the man whom he had to succeed. Professor Andreas was aprofound scholar and a man of European reputation. His lectures werefrequented by students from every part of the world, and his admirablemanagement of the collection intrusted to his care was a commonplace inall learned societies. There was, therefore, considerable surprise when,at the age of fifty-five, he suddenly resigned his position and retiredfrom those duties which had been both his livelihood and his pleasure.He and his daughter left the comfortable suite of rooms which had formedhis official residence in connection with the museum, and my friend,Mortimer, who was a bachelor, took up his quarters there.
On hearing of Mortimer’s appointment Professor Andreas had written him avery kindly and flattering congratulatory letter. I was actually presentat their first meeting, and I went with Mortimer round the museum whenthe Professor showed us the admirable collection which he had cherishedso long. The Professor’s beautiful daughter and a young man, CaptainWilson, who was, as I understood, soon to be her husband, accompanied usin our inspection. There were fifteen rooms, but the Babylonian, theSyrian, and the central hall, which contained the Jewish and Egyptiancollection, were the finest of all. Professor Andreas was a quiet, dry,elderly man, with a clean-shaven face and an impassive manner, but hisdark eyes sparkled and his features quickened into enthusiastic life ashe pointed out to us the rarity and the beauty of some of his specimens.His hand lingered so fondly over them, that one could read his pride inthem and the grief in his heart now that they were passing from his careinto that of another.
He had shown us in turn his mummies, his papyri, his rare scarabs, hisinscriptions, his Jewish relics, and his duplication of the famousseven-branched candlestick of the Temple, which was brought to Rome byTitus, and which is supposed by some to be lying at this instant in thebed of the Tiber. Then he approached a case which stood in the verycentre of the hall, and he looked down through the glass with reverencein his attitude and manner.
“This is no novelty to an expert like yourself, Mr. Mortimer,” said he;“but I daresay that your friend, Mr. Jackson, will be interested to seeit.”
Leaning over the case I saw an object, some five inches square, whichconsisted of twelve precious stones in a framework of gold, with goldenhooks at two of the corners. The stones were all varying in sort andcolour, but they were of the same size. Their shapes, arrangement, andgradation of tint made me think of a box of water-colour paints. Eachstone had some hieroglyphic scratched upon its surface.
“You have heard, Mr. Jackson, of the urim and thummim?”
I had heard the term, but my idea of its meaning was exceedingly vague.
“The urim and thummim was a name given to the jewelled plate which layupon the breast of the high priest of the Jews. They had a very specialfeeling of reverence for it—something of the feeling which an ancientRoman might have for the Sibylline books in the Capitol. There are, asyou see, twelve magnificent stones, inscribed with mystical characters.Counting from the left-hand top corner, the stones are carnelian,peridot, emerald, ruby, lapis lazuli, onyx, sapphire, agate, amethyst,topaz, beryl, and jasper.”
I was amazed at the variety and beauty of the stones.
“Has the breastplate any particular history?” I asked.
“It is of great age and of immense value,” said Professor Andreas.“Without being able to make an absolute assertion, we have many reasonsto think that it is possible that it may be the original urim andthummim of Solomon’s Temple. There is certainly nothing so fine in anycollection in Europe. My friend, Captain Wilson here, is a practicalauthority upon precious stones, and he would tell you how pure theseare.”
Captain Wilson, a man with a dark, hard, incisive face, was standingbeside his _fiancée_ at the other side of the case.
“Yes,” said he, curtly, “I have never seen finer stones.”
“And the gold-work is also worthy of attention. The ancients excelled in——”—he was apparently about to indicate the setting of the stones, whenCaptain Wilson interrupted him.
“You will see a finer example of their gold-work in this candlestick,”said he, turning to another table, and we all joined him in hisadmiration of its embossed stem and delicately ornamented branches.Altogether it was an interesting and a novel experience to have objectsof such rarity explained by so great an expert; and when, finally,Professor Andreas finished our inspection by formally handing over theprecious collection to the care of my friend, I could not help pityinghim and envying his successor whose life was to pass in so pleasant aduty. Within a week, Ward Mortimer was duly installed in his new set ofrooms, and had become the autocrat of the Belmore Street Museum.
About a fortnight afterwards my friend gave a small dinner tohalf-a-dozen bachelor friends to celebrate his promotion. When hisguests were departing he pulled my sleeve and signalled to me that hewished me to remain.
“You have only a few hundred yards to go,” said he—I was living inchambers in the Albany. “You may as well stay and have a quiet cigarwith me. I very much want your advice.”
I relapsed into an arm-chair and lit one of his excellent Matronas. Whenhe had returned from seeing the last of his guests out, he drew a letterfrom his dress-jacket and sat down opposite to me.
“This is an anonymous letter which I received this morning,” said he. “Iwant to read it to you and to have your advice.”
“You are very welcome to it for what it is worth.”
“This is how the note runs: ‘Sir,—I should strongly advise you to keep avery careful watch over the many valuable things which are committed toyour charge. I do not think that the present system of a single watchmanis sufficient. Be upon your guard, or an irreparable misfortune mayoccur.”
“Is that all?”
“Yes, that is all.”
“Well,” said I, “it is at least obvious that it was written by one ofthe limited number of people who are aware that you have only onewatchman at night.”
Ward Mortimer handed me the note, with a curious smile. “Have you an eyefor handwriting?” said he. “Now, look at this!” He put another letter infront of me. “Look at the _c_ in ‘congratulate’ and the _c_ in‘committed.’ Look at the capital _I_. Look at the trick of putting in adash instead of a stop!”
“They are undoubtedly from the same hand—with some attempt at disguisein the case of this first one.”
“The second,” said Ward Mortimer, “is the letter of congratulation whichwas written to me by Professor Andreas upon my obtaining myappointment.”
I stared at him in amazement. Then I turned over the letter in my hand,and there, sure enough, was “Martin Andreas” signed upon the other side.There could be no doubt, in the mind of any one who had the slightestknowledge of the science of graphology, that the Professor had writtenan anonymous letter, warning his successor against thieves. It wasinexplicable, but it was certain.
“Why should he do it?” I asked.
“Precisely what I should wish to ask you. If he had any such misgivings,why could he not come and tell me direct?”
“Wi
ll you speak to him about it?”
“There again I am in doubt. He might choose to deny that he wrote it.”
“At any rate,” said I, “this warning is meant in a friendly spirit, andI should certainly act upon it. Are the present precautions enough toinsure you against robbery?”
“I should have thought so. The public are only admitted from ten tillfive, and there is a guardian to every two rooms. He stands at the doorbetween them, and so commands them both.”
“But at night?”
“When the public are gone, we at once put up the great iron shutters,which are absolutely burglar-proof. The watchman is a capable fellow. Hesits in the lodge, but he walks round every three hours. We keep oneelectric light burning in each room all night.”
“It is difficult to suggest anything more—short of keeping your daywatchers all night.”
“We could not afford that.”
“At least, I should communicate with the police, and have a specialconstable put on outside in Belmore Street,” said I. “As to the letter,if the writer wishes to be anonymous, I think he has a right to remainso. We must trust to the future to show some reason for the curiouscourse which he has adopted.”
So we dismissed the subject, but all that night after my return to mychambers I was puzzling my brain as to what possible motive ProfessorAndreas could have for writing an anonymous warning letter to hissuccessor—for that the writing was his was as certain to me as if I hadseen him actually doing it. He foresaw some danger to the collection.Was it because he foresaw it that he abandoned his charge of it? But ifso, why should he hesitate to warn Mortimer in his own name? I puzzledand puzzled until at last I fell into a troubled sleep, which carried mebeyond my usual hour of rising.
I was aroused in a singular and effective method, for about nine o’clockmy friend Mortimer rushed into my room with an expression ofconsternation upon his face. He was usually one of the most tidy men ofmy acquaintance, but now his collar was undone at one end, his tie wasflying, and his hat at the back of his head. I read his whole story inhis frantic eyes.
“The museum has been robbed!” I cried, springing up in bed.
“I fear so! Those jewels! The jewels of the urim and thummim!” hegasped, for he was out of breath with running. “I’m going on to thepolice-station. Come to the museum as soon as you can, Jackson!Good-bye!” He rushed distractedly out of the room, and I heard himclatter down the stairs.
I was not long in following his directions, but I found when I arrivedthat he had already returned with a police inspector, and anotherelderly gentleman, who proved to be Mr. Purvis, one of the partners ofMorson and Company, the well-known diamond merchants. As an expert instones he was always prepared to advise the police. They were groupedround the case in which the breastplate of the Jewish priest had beenexposed. The plate had been taken out and laid upon the glass top of thecase, and the three heads were bent over it.
“It is obvious that it has been tampered with,” said Mortimer. “Itcaught my eye the moment that I passed through the room this morning. Iexamined it yesterday evening, so that it is certain that this hashappened during the night.”
It was, as he had said, obvious that some one had been at work upon it.The settings of the uppermost row of four stones—the carnelian, peridot,emerald, and ruby-were rough and jagged as if some one had scraped allround them. The stones were in their places, but the beautiful gold-workwhich we had admired only a few days before had been very clumsilypulled about.
“It looks to me,” said the police inspector, “as if some one had beentrying to take out the stones.”
“My fear is,” said Mortimer, “that he not only tried, but succeeded. Ibelieve these four stones to be skilful imitations which have been putin the place of the originals.”
The same suspicion had evidently been in the mind of the expert, for hehad been carefully examining the four stones with the aid of a lens. Henow submitted them to several tests, and finally turned cheerfully toMortimer.
“I congratulate you, sir,” said he, heartily. “I will pledge myreputation that all four of these stones are genuine, and of a mostunusual degree of purity.”
The colour began to come back to my poor friend’s frightened face, andhe drew a long breath of relief.
“Thank God!” he cried. “Then what in the world did the thief want?”
“Probably he meant to take the stones, but was interrupted.”
“In that case one would expect him to take them out one at a time, butthe setting of each of these has been loosened, and yet the stones areall here.”
“It is certainly most extraordinary,” said the inspector. “I neverremember a case like it. Let us see the watchman.”
The commissionaire was called—a soldierly, honest-faced man, who seemedas concerned as Ward Mortimer at the incident.
“No, sir, I never heard a sound,” he answered, in reply to the questionsof the inspector. “I made my rounds four times, as usual, but I sawnothing suspicious. I’ve been in my position ten years, but nothing ofthe kind has ever occurred before.”
“No thief could have come through the windows?”
“Impossible, sir.”
“Or passed you at the door?”
“No, sir; I never left my post except when I walked my rounds.”
“What other openings are there in the museum?”
“There is the door into Mr. Ward Mortimer’s private rooms.”
“That is locked at night,” my friend explained, “and in order to reachit any one from the street would have to open the outside door as well.”
“Your servants?”
“Their quarters are entirely separate.”
“Well, well,” said the inspector, “this is certainly very obscure.However, there has been no harm done, according to Mr. Purvis.”
“I will swear that those stones are genuine.”
“So that the case appears to be merely one of malicious damage. But nonethe less, I should be very glad to go carefully round the premises, andto see if we can find any trace to show us who your visitor may havebeen.”
His investigation, which lasted all the morning was careful andintelligent, but it led in the end to nothing. He pointed out to us thatthere were two possible entrances to the museum which we had notconsidered. The one was from the cellars by a trap-door opening in thepassage. The other through a skylight from the lumber-room, overlookingthat very chamber to which the intruder had penetrated. As neither thecellar nor the lumber-room could be entered unless the thief was alreadywithin the locked doors, the matter was not of any practical importance,and the dust of cellar and attic assured us that no one had used eitherone or the other. Finally, we ended as we began, without the slightestclue as to how, why, or by whom the setting of these four jewels hadbeen tampered with.
There remained one course for Mortimer to take, and he took it. Leavingthe police to continue their fruitless researches, he asked me toaccompany him that afternoon in a visit to Professor Andreas. He tookwith him the two letters, and it was his intention to openly tax hispredecessor with having written the anonymous warning, and to ask him toexplain the fact that he should have anticipated so exactly that whichhad actually occurred. The Professor was living in a small villa inUpper Norwood, but we were informed by the servant that he was away fromhome. Seeing our disappointment, she asked us if we should like to seeMiss Andreas, and showed us into the modest drawing-room.
I have mentioned incidentally that the Professor’s daughter was a verybeautiful girl. She was a blonde, tall and graceful, with a skin of thatdelicate tint which the French call “mat,” the colour of old ivory or ofthe lighter petals of the sulphur rose. I was shocked, however, as sheentered the room to see how much she had changed in the last fortnight.Her young face was haggard and her bright eyes heavy with trouble.
“Father has gone to Scotland,” she said. “He seems to be tired, and hashad a good deal to worry him. He only left us yesterday.
”
“You look a little tired yourself, Miss Andreas,” said my friend.
“I have been so anxious about father.”
“Can you give me his Scotch address?”
“Yes, he is with his brother, the Rev. David Andreas, 1, Arran Villas,Ardrossan.”
Ward Mortimer made a note of the address, and we left without sayinganything as to the object of our visit. We found ourselves in BelmoreStreet in the evening in exactly the same position in which we had beenin the morning. Our only clue was the Professor’s letter, and my friendhad made up his mind to start for Ardrossan next day, and to get to thebottom of the anonymous letter, when a new development came to alter ourplans.
Very early on the following morning I was aroused from my sleep by a tapupon my bedroom door. It was a messenger with a note from Mortimer.
“Do come round,” it said; “the matter is becoming more and moreextraordinary.”
When I obeyed his summons I found him pacing excitedly up and down thecentral room, while the old soldier who guarded the premises stood withmilitary stiffness in a corner.
“My dear Jackson,” he cried, “I am so delighted that you have come, forthis is a most inexplicable business.”
“What has happened, then?”
He waved his hand towards the case which contained the breastplate.
“Look at it,” said he.
I did so, and could not restrain a cry of surprise. The setting of themiddle row of precious stones had been profaned in the same manner asthe upper ones. Of the twelve jewels, eight had been now tampered within this singular fashion. The setting of the lower four was neat andsmooth. The others jagged and irregular.
“Have the stones been altered?” I asked.
“No, I am certain that these upper four are the same which the expertpronounced to be genuine, for I observed yesterday that littlediscoloration on the edge of the emerald. Since they have not extractedthe upper stones, there is no reason to think the lower have beentransposed. You say that you heard nothing, Simpson?”
“No, sir,” the commissionaire answered. “But when I made my round afterdaylight I had a special look at these stones, and I saw at once thatsome one had been meddling with them. Then I called you, sir, and toldyou. I was backwards and forwards all the night, and I never saw a soulor heard a sound.”
“Come up and have some breakfast with me,” said Mortimer, and he took meinto his own chambers.—“Now, what _do_ you think of this, Jackson?” heasked.
“It is the most objectless, futile, idiotic business that ever I heardof. It can only be the work of a monomaniac.”
“Can you put forward any theory?”
A curious idea came into my head. “This object is a Jewish relic ofgreat antiquity and sanctity,” said I. “How about the anti-Semiticmovement? Could one conceive that a fanatic of that way of thinkingmight desecrate——”
“No, no, no!” cried Mortimer. “That will never do! Such a man might pushhis lunacy to the length of destroying a Jewish relic, but why on earthshould he nibble round every stone so carefully that he can only do fourstones in a night? We must have a better solution than that, and we mustfind it for ourselves, for I do not think that our inspector is likelyto help us. First of all, what do you think of Simpson, the porter?”
“Have you any reason to suspect him?”
“Only that he is the one person on the premises.”
“But why should he indulge in such wanton destruction? Nothing has beentaken away. He has no motive.”
“Mania?”
“No, I will swear to his sanity.”
“Have you any other theory?”
“Well, yourself, for example. You are not a somnambulist, by anychance?”
“Nothing of the sort, I assure you.”
“Then I give it up.”
“But I don’t—and I have a plan by which we will make it all clear.”
“To visit Professor Andreas?”
“No, we shall find our solution nearer than Scotland, I will tell youwhat we shall do. You know that skylight which overlooks the centralhall? We will leave the electric lights in the hall, and we will keepwatch in the lumber-room, you and I, and solve the mystery forourselves. If our mysterious visitor is doing four stones at a time, hehas four still to do, and there is every reason to think that he willreturn to-night and complete the job.”
“Excellent!” I cried.
“We will keep our own secret, and say nothing either to the police or toSimpson. Will you join me?”
“With the utmost pleasure,” said I; and so it was agreed.
It was ten o’clock that night when I returned to the Belmore StreetMuseum. Mortimer was, as I could see, in a state of suppressed nervousexcitement, but it was still too early to begin our vigil, so weremained for an hour or so in his chambers, discussing all thepossibilities of the singular business which we had met to solve. Atlast the roaring stream of hansom cabs and the rush of hurrying feetbecame lower and more intermittent as the pleasure-seekers passed ontheir way to their stations or their homes. It was nearly twelve whenMortimer led the way to the lumber-room which overlooked the centralhall of the museum.
He had visited it during the day, and had spread some sacking so that wecould lie at our ease, and look straight down into the museum. Theskylight was of unfrosted glass, but was so covered with dust that itwould be impossible for any one looking up from below to detect that hewas overlooked. We cleared a small piece at each corner, which gave us acomplete view of the room beneath us. In the cold white light of theelectric lamps everything stood out hard and clear, and I could see thesmallest detail of the contents of the various cases.
Such a vigil is an excellent lesson, since one has no choice but to lookhard at those objects which we usually pass with such half-heartedinterest. Through my little peep-hole I employed the hours in studyingevery specimen, from the huge mummy-case which leaned against the wallto those very jewels which had brought us there, gleaming and sparklingin their glass case immediately beneath us. There was much preciousgold-work and many valuable stones scattered through the numerous cases,but those wonderful twelve which made up the urim and thummim glowed andburned with a radiance which far eclipsed the others. I studied in turnthe tomb-pictures of Sicara, the friezes from Karnak, the statues ofMemphis, and the inscriptions of Thebes, but my eyes would always comeback to that wonderful Jewish relic, and my mind to the singular mysterywhich surrounded it. I was lost in the thought of it when my companionsuddenly drew his breath sharply in, and seized my arm in a convulsivegrip. At the same instant I saw what it was which had excited him.
I have said that against the wall—on the right-hand side of the doorway(the right-hand side as we looked at it, but the left as oneentered)—there stood a large mummy-case. To our unutterable amazement itwas slowly opening. Gradually, gradually the lid was swinging back, andthe black slit which marked the opening was becoming wider and wider. Sogently and carefully was it done that the movement was almostimperceptible. Then, as we breathlessly watched it, a white thin handappeared at the opening, pushing back the painted lid, then anotherhand, and finally a face—a face which was familiar to us both, that ofProfessor Andreas. Stealthily he slunk out of the mummy-case, like a foxstealing from its burrow, his head turning incessantly to left and toright, stepping, then pausing, then stepping again, the very image ofcraft and of caution. Once some sound in the street struck himmotionless, and he stood listening, with his ear turned, ready to dartback to the shelter behind him. Then he crept onwards again upon tiptoe,very, very softly and slowly, until he had reached the case in thecentre of the room. There he took a bunch of keys from his pocket,unlocked the case, took out the Jewish breastplate, and, laying it uponthe glass in front of him, began to work upon it with some sort ofsmall, glistening tool. He was so directly underneath us that his benthead covered his work, but we could guess from the movement of his handthat he was engaged in finishing the strange disfigurement w
hich he hadbegun.
I could realize from the heavy breathing of my companion, and thetwitchings of the hand which still clutched my wrist, the furiousindignation which filled his heart as he saw this vandalism in thequarter of all others where he could least have expected it. He, thevery man who a fortnight before had reverently bent over this uniquerelic, and who had impressed its antiquity and its sanctity upon us, wasnow engaged in this outrageous profanation. It was impossible,unthinkable—and yet there, in the white glare of the electric lightbeneath us, was that dark figure with the bent, grey head, and thetwitching elbow. What inhuman hypocrisy, what hateful depth of maliceagainst his successor must underlie these sinister nocturnal labours. Itwas painful to think of and dreadful to watch. Even I, who had none ofthe acute feelings of a virtuoso, could not bear to look on and see thisdeliberate mutilation of so ancient a relic. It was a relief to me whenmy companion tugged at my sleeve as a signal that I was to follow him ashe softly crept out of the room. It was not until we were within his ownquarters that he opened his lips, and then I saw by his agitated facehow deep was his consternation.
“The abominable Goth!” he cried. “Could you have believed it?”
“It is amazing.”
“He is a villain or a lunatic—one or the other. We shall very soon seewhich. Come with me, Jackson, and we shall get to the bottom of thisblack business.”
A door opened out of the passage which was the private entrance from hisrooms into the museum. This he opened softly with his key, having firstkicked off his shoes, an example which I followed. We crept togetherthrough room after room, until the large hall lay before us, with thatdark figure still stooping and working at the central case. With anadvance as cautious as his own we closed in upon him, but softly as wewent we could not take him entirely unawares. We were still a dozenyards from him when he looked round with a start, and uttering a huskycry of terror, ran frantically down the museum.
“Simpson! Simpson!” roared Mortimer, and far away down the vista ofelectric lighted doors we saw the stiff figure of the old soldiersuddenly appear. Professor Andreas saw him also, and stopped running,with a gesture of despair. At the same instant we each laid a hand uponhis shoulder.
“Yes, yes, gentlemen,” he panted, “I will come with you. To your room,Mr. Ward Mortimer, if you please! I feel that I owe you an explanation.”
My companion’s indignation was so great that I could see that he darednot trust himself to reply. We walked on each side of the old Professor,the astonished commissionaire bringing up the rear. When we reached theviolated case, Mortimer stopped and examined the breastplate. Alreadyone of the stones of the lower row had had its setting turned back inthe same manner as the others. My friend held it up and glancedfuriously at his prisoner.
“How could you!” he cried. “How could you!”
“It is horrible—horrible!” said the Professor. “I don’t wonder at yourfeelings. Take me to your room.”
“But this shall not be left exposed!” cried Mortimer. He picked thebreastplate up and carried it tenderly in his hand, while I walkedbeside the Professor, like a policeman with a malefactor. We passed intoMortimer’s chambers, leaving the amazed old soldier to understandmatters as best he could. The Professor sat down in Mortimer’sarm-chair, and turned so ghastly a colour that for the instant, all ourresentment was changed to concern. A stiff glass of brandy brought thelife back to him once more.
“There, I am better now!” said he. “These last few days have been toomuch for me. I am convinced that I could not stand it any longer. It isa nightmare—a horrible nightmare—that I should be arrested as a burglarin what has been for so long my own museum. And yet I cannot blame you.You could not have done otherwise. My hope always was that I should getit all over before I was detected. This would have been my last night’swork.”
“How did you get in?” asked Mortimer.
“By taking a very great liberty with your private door. But the objectjustified it. The object justified everything. You will not be angrywhen you know everything—at least, you will not be angry with me. I hada key to your side door and also to the museum door. I did not give themup when I left. And so you see it was not difficult for me to let myselfinto the museum. I used to come in early before the crowd had clearedfrom the street. Then I hid myself in the mummy-case, and took refugethere whenever Simpson came round. I could always hear him coming. Iused to leave in the same way as I came.”
“You ran a risk.”
“I had to.”
“But why? What on earth was your object—_you_ to do a thing like that?”Mortimer pointed reproachfully at the plate which lay before him on thetable.
“I could devise no other means. I thought and thought, but there was noalternative except a hideous public scandal, and a private sorrow whichwould have clouded our lives. I acted for the best, incredible as it mayseem to you, and I only ask your attention to enable me to prove it.”
“I will hear what you have to say before I take any further steps,” saidMortimer, grimly.
“I am determined to hold back nothing, and to take you both completelyinto my confidence. I will leave it to your own generosity how far youwill use the facts with which I supply you.”
“We have the essential facts already.”
“And yet you understand nothing. Let me go back to what passed a fewweeks ago, and I will make it all clear to you. Believe me that what Isay is the absolute and exact truth.
“You have met the person who calls himself Captain Wilson. I say ‘callshimself’ because I have reason now to believe that it is not his correctname. It would take me too long if I were to describe all the means bywhich he obtained an introduction to me and ingratiated himself into myfriendship and the affection of my daughter. He brought letters fromforeign colleagues which compelled me to show him some attention. Andthen, by his own attainments, which are considerable, he succeeded inmaking himself a very welcome visitor at my rooms. When I learned thatmy daughter’s affections had been gained by him, I may have thought itpremature, but I certainly was not surprised, for he had a charm ofmanner and of conversation which would have made him conspicuous in anysociety.
“He was much interested in Oriental antiquities, and his knowledge ofthe subject justified his interest. Often when he spent the evening withus he would ask permission to go down into the museum and have anopportunity of privately inspecting the various specimens. You canimagine that I, as an enthusiast, was in sympathy with such a request,and that I felt no surprise at the constancy of his visits. After hisactual engagement to Elise, there was hardly an evening which he did notpass with us, and an hour or two were generally devoted to the museum.He had the free run of the place, and when I have been away for theevening I had no objection to his doing whatever he wished here. Thisstate of things was only terminated by the fact of my resignation of myofficial duties and my retirement to Norwood, where I hoped to have theleisure to write a considerable work which I had planned.
“It was immediately after this—within a week or so—that I first realizedthe true nature and character of the man whom I had so imprudentlyintroduced into my family. The discovery came to me through letters frommy friends abroad, which showed me that his introductions to me had beenforgeries. Aghast at the revelation, I asked myself what motive this mancould originally have had in practising this elaborate deception uponme. I was too poor a man for any fortune-hunter to have marked me down.Why, then, had he come? I remembered that some of the most precious gemsin Europe had been under my charge, and I remembered also the ingeniousexcuses by which this man had made himself familiar with the cases inwhich they were kept. He was a rascal who was planning some giganticrobbery. How could I, without striking my own daughter, who wasinfatuated about him, prevent him from carrying out any plan which hemight have formed? My device was a clumsy one, and yet I could think ofnothing more effective. If I had written a letter under my own name, youwould naturally have turned to me for details which I did
not wish togive. I resorted to an anonymous letter, begging you to be upon yourguard.
“I may tell you that my change from Belmore Street to Norwood had notaffected the visits of this man, who had, I believe, a real andoverpowering affection for my daughter. As to her, I could not havebelieved that any woman could be so completely under the influence of aman as she was. His stronger nature seemed to entirely dominate her. Ihad not realized how far this was the case, or the extent of theconfidence which existed between them, until that very evening when histrue character for the first time was made clear to me. I had givenorders that when he called he should be shown into my study instead ofto the drawing-room. There I told him bluntly that I knew all about him,that I had taken steps to defeat his designs, and that neither I nor mydaughter desired ever to see him again. I added that I thanked God thatI had found him out before he had time to harm those precious objectswhich it had been the work of my lifetime to protect.
“He was certainly a man of iron nerve. He took my remarks without a signeither of surprise or of defiance, but listened gravely and attentivelyuntil I had finished. Then he walked across the room without a word andstruck the bell.
“‘Ask Miss Andreas to be so kind as to step this way,’ said he to theservant.
“My daughter entered, and the man closed the door behind her. Then hetook her hand in his.
“‘Elise,’ said he, ‘your father has just discovered that I am a villain.He knows now what you knew before.’
“She stood in silence, listening.
“‘He says that we are to part for ever,’ said he.
“She did not withdraw her hand.
“‘Will you be true to me, or will you remove the last good influencewhich is ever likely to come into my life?’
“‘John,’ she cried, passionately, ‘I will never abandon you! Never,never, not if the whole world were against you.’
“In vain I argued and pleaded with her. It was absolutely useless. Herwhole life was bound up in this man before me. My daughter, gentlemen,is all that I have left to love, and it filled me with agony when I sawhow powerless I was to save her from her ruin. My helplessness seemed totouch this man who was the cause of my trouble.
“‘It may not be as bad as you think, sir,’ said he, in his quiet,inflexible way. ‘I love Elise with a love which is strong enough torescue even one who has such a record as I have. It was but yesterdaythat I promised her that never again in my whole life would I do a thingof which she should be ashamed. I have made up my mind to it, and neveryet did I make up my mind to a thing which I did not do.’
“He spoke with an air which carried conviction with it. As he concludedhe put his hand into his pocket and he drew out a small cardboard box.
“‘I am about to give you a proof of my determination,’ said he. ‘This,Elise, shall be the first-fruits of your redeeming influence over me.You are right, sir, in thinking that I had designs upon the jewels inyour possession. Such ventures have had a charm for me, which dependedas much upon the risk run as upon the value of the prize. Those famousand antique stones of the Jewish priest were a challenge to my daringand my ingenuity. I determined to get them.’
“‘I guessed as much.’
“‘There was only one thing that you did not guess.’
“‘And what is that?’
“‘That I got them. They are in this box.’
“He opened the box, and tilted out the contents upon the corner of mydesk. My hair rose and my flesh grew cold as I looked. There were twelvemagnificent square stones engraved with mystical characters. There couldbe no doubt that they were the jewels of the urim and thummim.
“‘Good God!’ I cried. ‘How have you escaped discovery?’
“By the substitution of twelve others, made especially to my order, inwhich the originals are so carefully imitated that I defy the eye todetect the difference.’
“‘Then the present stones are false?’ I cried.
“‘They have been for some weeks.’
“We all stood in silence, my daughter white with emotion, but stillholding this man by the hand.
“‘You see what I am capable of, Elise,’ said he.
“‘I see that you are capable of repentance and restitution,’ sheanswered.
“‘Yes, thanks to your influence! I leave the stones in your hands, sir.Do what you like about it. But remember that whatever you do against me,is done against the future husband of your only daughter. You will hearfrom me soon again, Elise. It is the last time that I will ever causepain to your tender heart,’ and with these words he left both the roomand the house.
“My position was a dreadful one. Here I was with these precious relicsin my possession, and how could I return them without a scandal and anexposure? I knew the depth of my daughter’s nature too well to supposethat I would ever be able to detach her from this man now that she hadentirely given him her heart. I was not even sure how far it was rightto detach her if she had such an ameliorating influence over him. Howcould I expose him without injuring her—and how far was I justified inexposing him when he had voluntarily put himself into my power? Ithought and thought, until at last I formed a resolution which may seemto you to be a foolish one, and yet, if I had to do it again, I believeit would be the best course open to me.
“My idea was to return the stones without any one being the wiser. Withmy keys I could get into the museum at any time, and I was confidentthat I could avoid Simpson, whose hours and methods were familiar to me.I determined to take no one into my confidence—not even my daughter—whomI told that I was about to visit my brother in Scotland. I wanted a freehand for a few nights, without inquiry as to my comings and goings. Tothis end I took a room in Harding Street that very night, with anintimation that I was a Pressman, and that I should keep very latehours.
“That night I made my way into the museum, and I replaced four of thestones. It was hard work, and took me all night When Simpson came roundI always heard his footsteps, and concealed myself in the mummy-case. Ihad some knowledge of gold-work, but was far less skilful than the thiefhad been. He had replaced the setting so exactly that I defy any one tosee the difference. My work was rude and clumsy. However, I hoped thatthe plate might not be carefully examined, or the roughness of thesetting observed, until my task was done. Next night I replaced fourmore stones. And to-night I should have finished my task had it not beenfor the unfortunate circumstance which has caused me to reveal so muchwhich I should have wished to keep concealed. I appeal to you,gentlemen, to your sense of honour and of compassion, whether what Ihave told you should go any farther or not. My own happiness, mydaughter’s future, the hopes of this man’s regeneration, all depend uponyour decision.”
“Which is,” said my friend, “that all is well that ends well, and thatthe whole matter ends here and at once. To-morrow the loose settingsshall be tightened by an expert goldsmith, and so passes the greatestdanger to which, since the destruction of the Temple, the urim andthummim have been exposed. Here is my hand, Professor Andreas, and I canonly hope that under such difficult circumstances I should have carriedmyself as unselfishly and as well.”
Just one footnote to this narrative. Within a month Elise Andreas wasmarried to a man whose name, had I the indiscretion to mention it, wouldappeal to my readers as one who is now widely and deservedly honoured.But if the truth were known, that honour is due not to him but to thegentle girl who plucked him back when he had gone so far down that darkroad along which few return.
Round the Fire Stories Page 9