第 十二 章 · The Jew's Breastplate

. The Jew's Breastplate

My particular friend, Ward Mortimer, was one of the best men of his day

at everything connected with Oriental archaeology. He had written

largely upon the subject, he had lived two years in a tomb at Thebes,

while he excavated in the Valley of the Kings, and finally he had

created a considerable sensation by his exhumation of the alleged mummy

of Cleopatra in the inner room of the Temple of Horus, at Philae. With

such a record at the age of thirty-one, it was felt that a considerable

career lay before him, and no one was surprised when he was elected to

the curatorship of the Belmore Street Museum, which carries with it the

lectureship at the Oriental College, and an income which has sunk with

the fall in land, but which still remains at that ideal sum which is

large enough to encourage an investigator, but not so large as to

enervate him.

There was only one reason which made Ward Mortimer's position a little

difficult at the Belmore Street Museum, and that was the extreme

eminence of the man whom he had to succeed. Professor Andreas was a

profound scholar and a man of European reputation. His lectures were

frequented by students from every part of the world, and his admirable

management of the collection intrusted to his care was a commonplace in

all learned societies. There was, therefore, considerable surprise

when, at the age of fifty-five, he suddenly resigned his position and

retired from those duties which had been both his livelihood and his

pleasure. He and his daughter left the comfortable suite of rooms

which had formed his 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

a very kindly and flattering congratulatory letter. I was actually

present at their first meeting, and I went with Mortimer round the

museum when the Professor showed us the admirable collection which he

had cherished so long. The Professor's beautiful daughter and a young

man, Captain Wilson, who was, as I understood, soon to be her husband,

accompanied us in our inspection. There were fifteen rooms, but the

Babylonian, the Syrian, and the central hall, which contained the

Jewish and Egyptian collection, were the finest of all. Professor

Andreas was a quiet, dry, elderly man, with a clean-shaven face and an

impassive manner, but his dark eyes sparkled and his features quickened

into enthusiastic life as he 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 in them and the grief in his heart

now that they were passing from his care into that of another.

He had shown us in turn his mummies, his papyri, his rare scarabs, his

inscriptions, his Jewish relics, and his duplication of the famous

seven-branched candlestick of the Temple, which was brought to Rome by

Titus, and which is supposed by some to be lying at this instant in the

bed of the Tiber. Then he approached a case which stood in the very

centre of the hall, and he looked down through the glass with reverence

in 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 see

it."

Leaning over the case I saw an object, some five inches square, which

consisted of twelve precious stones in a framework of gold, with golden

hooks at two of the corners. The stones were all varying in sort and

colour, but they were of the same size. Their shapes, arrangement, and

gradation of tint made me think of a box of water-colour paints. Each

stone 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 lay

upon the breast of the high priest of the Jews. They had a very

special feeling of reverence for it--something of the feeling which an

ancient Roman might have for the Sibylline books in the Capitol. There

are, as you 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 reasons

to think that it is possible that it may be the original urim and

thummim of Solomon's Temple. There is certainly nothing so fine in any

collection in Europe. My friend, Captain Wilson, here, is a practical

authority upon precious stones, and he would tell you how pure these

are."

Captain Wilson, a man with a dark, hard, incisive face, was standing

beside his fiancee 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,

when Captain 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 his

admiration of its embossed stem and delicately ornamented branches.

Altogether it was an interesting and a novel experience to have objects

of such rarity explained by so great an expert; and when, finally,

Professor Andreas finished our inspection by formally handing over the

precious collection to the care of my friend, I could not help pitying

him and envying his successor whose life was to pass in so pleasant a

duty. Within a week, Ward Mortimer was duly installed in his new set

of rooms, and had become the autocrat of the Belmore Street Museum.

About a fortnight afterwards my friend gave a small dinner to half a

dozen bachelor friends to celebrate his promotion. When his guests

were departing he pulled my sleeve and signalled to me that he wished

me to remain.

"You have only a few hundred yards to go," said he--I was living in

chambers in the Albany. "You may as well stay and have a quiet cigar

with me. I very much want your advice."

I relapsed into an arm-chair and lit one of his excellent Matronas.

When he had returned from seeing the last of his guests out, he drew a

letter from his dress-jacket and sat down opposite to me.

"This is an anonymous letter which I received this morning," said he.

"I want 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 a very careful watch over the many valuable things which are

committed to your charge. I do not think that the present system of a

single watchman is sufficient. Be upon your guard, or an irreparable

misfortune may occur.'"

"Is that all?"

"Yes, that is all."

"Well," said I, "it is at least obvious that it was written by one of

the limited number of people who are aware that you have only one

watchman at night."

Ward Mortimer handed me the note, with a curious smile. "Have you an

eye for handwriting?" said he. "Now, look at this!" He put another

letter in front 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 a

dash instead of a stop!"

"They are undoubtedly from the same hand--with some attempt at disguise

in the case of this first one."

"The second," said Ward Mortimer, "is the letter of congratulation

which was written to me by Professor Andreas upon my obtaining my

appointment."

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 anyone who had the

slightest knowledge of the science of graphology, that the Professor

had written an anonymous letter, warning his successor against thieves.

It was inexplicable, 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?"

"Will 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, and

I should certainly act upon it. Are the present precautions enough to

insure you against robbery?"

"I should have thought so. The public are only admitted from ten till

five, and there is a guardian to every two rooms. He stands at the

door between 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.

He sits in the lodge, but he walks round every three hours. We keep

one electric light burning in each room all night."

"It is difficult to suggest anything more--short of keeping your day

watches all night."

"We could not afford that."

"At least, I should communicate with the police, and have a special

constable 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

remain so. We must trust to the future to show some reason for the

curious course which he has adopted."

So we dismissed the subject, but all that night after my return to my

chambers I was puzzling my brain as to what possible motive Professor

Andreas could have for writing an anonymous warning letter to his

successor--for that the writing was his was as certain to me as if I

had seen 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 if so, why should he hesitate to warn Mortimer in his own

name? I puzzled and puzzled until at last I fell into a troubled

sleep, which carried me beyond my usual hour of rising.

I was aroused in a singular and effective method, for about nine

o'clock my friend Mortimer rushed into my room with an expression of

consternation upon his face. He was usually one of the most tidy men

of my acquaintance, but now his collar was undone at one end, his tie

was flying, and his hat at the back of his head. I read his whole

story in his 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!" he

gasped, for he was out of breath with running. "I'm going on to the

police-station. Come to the museum as soon as you can, Jackson!

Good-bye!" He rushed distractedly out of the room, and I heard him

clatter down the stairs.

I was not long in following his directions, but I found when I arrived

that he had already returned with a police inspector, and another

elderly gentleman, who proved to be Mr. Purvis, one of the partners of

Morson and Company, the well-known diamond merchants. As an expert in

stones he was always prepared to advise the police. They were grouped

round the case in which the breastplate of the Jewish priest had been

exposed. The plate had been taken out and laid upon the glass top of

the case, and the three heads were bent over it.

"It is obvious that it has been tampered with," said Mortimer. "It

caught my eye the moment that I passed through the room this morning.

I examined it yesterday evening, so that it is certain that this has

happened during the night."

It was, as he had said, obvious that someone 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 someone had

scraped all round them. The stones were in their places, but the

beautiful gold-work which we had admired only a few days before had

been very clumsily pulled about.

"It looks to me," said the police inspector, "as if someone had been

trying to take out the stones."

"My fear is," said Mortimer, "that he not only tried, but succeeded. I

believe these four stones to be skilful imitations which have been put

in the place of the originals."

The same suspicion had evidently been in the mind of the expert, for he

had been carefully examining the four stones with the aid of a lens.

He now submitted them to several tests, and finally turned cheerfully

to Mortimer.

"I congratulate you, sir," said he, heartily. "I will pledge my

reputation that all four of these stones are genuine, and of a most

unusual degree of purity."

The colour began to come back to my poor friend's frightened face, and

he 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, but

the setting of each of these has been loosened, and yet the stones are

all here."

"It is certainly most extraordinary," said the inspector. "I never

remember a case like it. Let us see the watchman."

The commissionaire was called--a soldierly, honest-faced man, who

seemed as concerned as Ward Mortimer at the incident.

"No, sir, I never heard a sound," he answered, in reply to the

questions of the inspector. "I made my rounds four times, as usual,

but I saw nothing suspicious. I've been in my position ten years, but

nothing of the 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 reach

it anyone 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

none the less, I should be very glad to go carefully round the

premises, and to see if we can find any trace to show us who your

visitor may have been."

His investigation, which lasted all the morning, was careful and

intelligent, but it led in the end to nothing. He pointed out to us

that there were two possible entrances to the museum which we had not

considered. The one was from the cellars by a trap-door opening in the

passage. The other through a skylight from the lumber-room,

overlooking that very chamber to which the intruder had penetrated. As

neither the cellar nor the lumber-room could be entered unless the

thief was already within 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 either one or the other. Finally, we ended as we

began, without the slightest clue as to how, why, or by whom the

setting of these four jewels had been tampered with.

There remained one course for Mortimer to take, and he took it. Leaving

the police to continue their fruitless researches, he asked me to

accompany him that afternoon in a visit to Professor Andreas. He took

with him the two letters, and it was his intention to openly tax his

predecessor with having written the anonymous warning, and to ask him

to explain the fact that he should have anticipated so exactly that

which had actually occurred. The Professor was living in a small villa

in Upper Norwood, but we were informed by the servant that he was away

from home. Seeing our disappointment, she asked us if we should like

to see Miss Andreas, and showed us into the modest drawing-room.

I have mentioned incidentally that the Professor's daughter was a very

beautiful girl. She was a blonde, tall and graceful, with a skin of

that delicate tint which the French call "mat," the colour of old

ivory, or of the lighter petals of the sulphur rose. I was shocked,

however, as she entered 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

has had 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 saying

anything as to the object of our visit. We found ourselves in Belmore

Street in the evening in exactly the same position in which we had been

in the morning. Our only clue was the Professor's letter, and my

friend had made up his mind to start for Ardrossan next day, and to get

to the bottom of the anonymous letter, when a new development came to

alter our plans.

Very early on the following morning I was aroused from my sleep by a

tap upon my bedroom door. It was a messenger with a note from Mortimer.

"Do come round," it said; "the matter is becoming more and more

extraordinary."

When I obeyed his summons I found him pacing excitedly up and down the

central room, while the old soldier who guarded the premises stood with

military stiffness in a corner.

"My dear Jackson," he cried, "I am so delighted that you have come, for

this 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 the

middle row of precious stones had been profaned in the same manner as

the upper ones. Of the twelve jewels eight had been now tampered with

in this singular fashion. The setting of the lower four was neat and

smooth. 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 expert

pronounced to be genuine, for I observed yesterday that little

discoloration on the edge of the emerald. Since they have not

extracted the upper stones, there is no reason to think the lower have

been transposed. You say that you heard nothing, Simpson?"

"No, sir," the commissionaire answered. "But when I made my round

after daylight I had a special look at these stones, and I saw at once

that someone had been meddling with them. Then I called you, sir, and

told you. I was backwards and forwards all night, and I never saw a

soul or heard a sound."

"Come up and have some breakfast with me," said Mortimer, and he took

me into his own chambers.--"Now, what DO you think of this, Jackson?"

he asked.

"It is the most objectless, futile, idiotic business that ever I heard

of. 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 of

great antiquity and sanctity," said I. "How about the anti-Semitic

movement? Could one conceive that a fanatic of that way of thinking

might desecrate----"

"No, no, no!" cried Mortimer. "That will never do! Such a man might

push his lunacy to the length of destroying a Jewish relic, but why on

earth should he nibble round every stone so carefully that he can only

do four stones in a night? We must have a better solution than that,

and we must find it for ourselves, for I do not think that our

inspector is likely to 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

been taken 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 any

chance?"

"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 you

what we shall do. You know that skylight which overlooks the central

hall? We will leave the electric lights in the hall, and we will keep

watch in the lumber-room, you and I, and solve the mystery for

ourselves. If our mysterious visitor is doing four stones at a time,

he has four still to do, and there is every reason to think that he

will return tonight and complete the job."

"Excellent!" I cried.

"We will keep our own secret, and say nothing either to the police or

to Simpson. 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 Street

Museum. Mortimer was, as I could see, in a state of suppressed nervous

excitement, but it was still too early to begin our vigil, so we

remained for an hour or so in his chambers, discussing all the

possibilities of the singular business which we had met to solve. At

last the roaring stream of hansom cabs and the rush of hurrying feet

became lower and more intermittent as the pleasure-seekers passed on

their way to their stations or their homes. It was nearly twelve when

Mortimer led the way to the lumber-room which overlooked the central

hall of the museum.

He had visited it during the day, and had spread some sacking so that

we could lie at our ease, and look straight down into the museum. The

skylight was of unfrosted glass, but was so covered with dust that it

would be impossible for anyone looking up from below to detect that he

was overlooked. We cleared a small piece at each corner, which gave us

a complete view of the room beneath us. In the cold white light of the

electric lamps everything stood out hard and clear, and I could see the

smallest detail of the contents of the various cases.

Such a vigil is an excellent lesson, since one has no choice but to

look hard at those objects which we usually pass with such half-hearted

interest. Through my little peep hole I employed the hours in studying

every specimen, from the huge mummy-case which leaned against the wall

to those very jewels which had brought us there, gleaming and sparkling

in their glass case immediately beneath us. There was much precious

gold-work and many valuable stones scattered through the numerous

cases, but those wonderful twelve which made up the urim and thummim

glowed and burned with a radiance which far eclipsed the others. I

studied in turn the tomb-pictures of Sicara, the friezes from Karnak,

the statues of Memphis, and the inscriptions of Thebes, but my eyes

would always come back to that wonderful Jewish relic, and my mind to

the singular mystery which surrounded it. I was lost in the thought of

it when my companion suddenly drew his breath sharply in, and seized my

arm in a convulsive grip. 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 one

entered)--there stood a large mummy-case. To our unutterable amazement

it was slowly opening. Gradually, gradually the lid was swinging back,

and the black slit which marked the opening was becoming wider and

wider. So gently and carefully was it done that the movement was

almost imperceptible. Then, as we breathlessly watched it, a white

thin hand appeared at the opening, pushing back the painted lid, then

another hand, and finally a face--a face which was familiar to us both,

that of Professor Andreas. Stealthily he slunk out of the mummy-case,

like a fox stealing from its burrow, his head turning incessantly to

left and to right, stepping, then pausing, then stepping again, the

very image of craft and of caution. Once some sound in the street

struck him motionless, and he stood listening, with his ear turned,

ready to dart back to the shelter behind him. Then he crept onwards

again upon tiptoe, very, very softly and slowly, until he had reached

the case in the centre of the room. There he took a bunch of keys from

his pocket, unlocked the case, took out the Jewish breastplate, and,

laying it upon the glass in front of him, began to work upon it with

some sort of small, glistening tool. He was so directly underneath us

that his bent head covered his work, but we could guess from the

movement of his hand that he was engaged in finishing the strange

disfigurement which he had begun.

I could realize from the heavy breathing of my companion, and the

twitchings of the hand which still clutched my wrist, the furious

indignation which filled his heart as he saw this vandalism in the

quarter of all others where he could least have expected it. He, the

very man who a fortnight before had reverently bent over this unique

relic, and who had impressed its antiquity and its sanctity upon us,

was now engaged in this outrageous profanation. It was impossible,

unthinkable--and yet there, in the white glare of the electric light

beneath us, was that dark figure with the bent grey head, and the

twitching elbow. What inhuman hypocrisy, what hateful depth of malice

against his successor must underlie these sinister nocturnal labours.

It was painful to think of and dreadful to watch. Even I, who had none

of the acute feelings of a virtuoso, could not bear to look on and see

this deliberate mutilation of so ancient a relic. It was a relief to

me when my companion tugged at my sleeve as a signal that I was to

follow him as he softly crept out of the room. It was not until we

were within his own quarters that he opened his lips, and then I saw by

his agitated face how 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

see which. Come with me, Jackson, and we shall get to the bottom of

this black business."

A door opened out of the passage which was the private entrance from

his rooms into the museum. This he opened softly with his key, having

first kicked off his shoes, an example which I followed. We crept

together through room after room, until the large hall lay before us,

with that dark figure still stooping and working at the central case.

With an advance as cautious as his own we closed in upon him, but

softly as we went we could not take him entirely unawares. We were

still a dozen yards from him when he looked round with a start, and

uttering a husky cry of terror, ran frantically down the museum.

"Simpson! Simpson!" roared Mortimer, and far away down the vista of

electric lighted doors we saw the stiff figure of the old soldier

suddenly appear. Professor Andreas saw him also, and stopped running,

with a gesture of despair. At the same instant we each laid a hand

upon his 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 dared

not trust himself to reply. We walked on each side of the old

Professor, the astonished commissionaire bringing up the rear. When we

reached the violated case, Mortimer stopped and examined the

breastplate. Already one of the stones of the lower row had had its

setting turned back in the same manner as the others. My friend held

it up and glanced furiously at his prisoner.

"How could you!" he cried. "How could you!"

"It is horrible--horrible!" said the Professor. "I don't wonder at

your feelings. Take me to your room."

"But this shall not be left exposed!" cried Mortimer. He picked the

breastplate up and carried it tenderly in his hand, while I walked

beside the Professor, like a policeman with a malefactor. We passed

into Mortimer's chambers, leaving the amazed old soldier to understand

matters as best he could. The Professor sat down in Mortimer's

arm-chair, and turned so ghastly a colour that for the instant all our

resentment was changed to concern. A stiff glass of brandy brought the

life back to him once more.

"There, I am better now!" said he. "These last few days have been too

much for me. I am convinced that I could not stand it any longer. It

is a nightmare--a horrible nightmare--that I should be arrested as a

burglar in 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 get it all over before I was detected. This would have been

my last night's work."

"How did you get in?" asked Mortimer.

"By taking a very great liberty with your private door. But the object

justified it. The object justified everything. You will not be angry

when you know everything--at least, you will not be angry with me. I

had a key to your side door and also to the museum door. I did not

give them up when I left. And so you see it was not difficult for me

to let myself into the museum. I used to come in early before the

crowd had cleared from the street. Then I hid myself in the mummy-case,

and took refuge there whenever Simpson came round. I could always hear

him coming. I used 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 the

table.

"I could devise no other means. I thought and thought, but there was

no alternate except a hideous public scandal, and a private sorrow

which would have clouded our lives. I acted for the best, incredible

as it may seem 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,"

said Mortimer, grimly.

"I am determined to hold back nothing, and to take you both completely

into my confidence. I will leave it to your own generosity how far you

will 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 few

weeks ago, and I will make it all clear to you. Believe me that what I

say is the absolute and exact truth.

"You have met the person who calls himself Captain Wilson. I say

'calls himself' because I have reason now to believe that it is not his

correct name. It would take me too long if I were to describe all the

means by which he obtained an introduction to me and ingratiated

himself into my friendship and the affection of my daughter. He

brought letters from foreign colleagues which compelled me to show him

some attention. And then, by his own attainments, which are

considerable, he succeeded in making himself a very welcome visitor at

my rooms. When I learned that my daughter's affections had been gained

by him, I may have thought it premature, but I certainly was not

surprised, for he had a charm of manner and of conversation which would

have made him conspicuous in any society.

"He was much interested in Oriental antiquities, and his knowledge of

the subject justified his interest. Often when he spent the evening

with us he would ask permission to go down into the museum and have an

opportunity of privately inspecting the various specimens. You can

imagine 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 his

actual engagement to Elise, there was hardly an evening which he did

not pass 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 the evening I had no objection to his doing whatever he wished

here. This state of things was only terminated by the fact of my

resignation of my official duties and my retirement to Norwood, where I

hoped to have the leisure to write a considerable work which I had

planned.

"It was immediately after this--within a week or so--that I first

realized the true nature and character of the man whom I had so

imprudently introduced into my family. The discovery came to me

through letters from my friends abroad, which showed me that his

introductions to me had been forgeries. Aghast at the revelation, I

asked myself what motive this man could originally have had in

practising this elaborate deception upon me. 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 gems in Europe had been under

my charge, and I remembered also the ingenious excuses by which this

man had made himself familiar with the cases in which they were kept.

He was a rascal who was planning some gigantic robbery. How could I,

without striking my own daughter, who was infatuated about him, prevent

him from carrying out any plan which he might have formed? My device

was a clumsy one, and yet I could think of nothing more effective. If

I had written a letter under my own name, you would naturally have

turned to me for details which I did not wish to give. I resorted to

an anonymous letter, begging you to be upon your guard.

"I may tell you that my change from Belmore Street to Norwood had not

affected the visits of this man, who had, I believe, a real and

overpowering affection for my daughter. As to her, I could not have

believed that any woman could be so completely under the influence of a

man as she was. His stronger nature seemed to entirely dominate her.

I had not realized how far this was the case, or the extent of the

confidence which existed between them, until that very evening when his

true character for the first time was made clear to me. I had given

orders that when he called he should be shown into my study instead of

to 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 my daughter desired ever to see him again. I added that I thanked

God that I had found him out before he had time to harm those precious

objects which it had been the work of my life-time to protect.

"He was certainly a man of iron nerve. He took my remarks without a

sign either of surprise or of defiance, but listened gravely and

attentively until I had finished. Then he walked across the room

without a word and struck the bell.

"'Ask Miss Andreas to be so kind as to step this way,' said he to the

servant.

"My daughter entered, and the man closed the door behind her. Then he

took 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 influence

which 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.

Her whole 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 saw how powerless I was to save her from her ruin. My

helplessness seemed to touch 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 to

rescue even one who has such a record as I have. It was but yesterday

that I promised her that never again in my whole life would I do a

thing of which she should be ashamed. I have made up my mind to it,

and never yet 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

concluded he 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 in

your possession. Such ventures have had a charm for me, which depended

as much upon the risk run as upon the value of the prize. Those famous

and antique stones of the Jewish priest were a challenge to my daring

and 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 my

desk. My hair rose and my flesh grew cold as I looked. There were

twelve magnificent square stones engraved with mystical characters.

There could be 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, in

which the originals are so carefully imitated that I defy the eye to

detect 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 still

holding 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,' she

answered.

"'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 hear from me soon again, Elise. It is the last time that I

will ever cause pain to your tender heart,' and with these words he

left both the room and the house.

"My position was a dreadful one. Here I was with these precious relics

in my possession, and how could I return them without a scandal and an

exposure? I knew the depth of my daughter's nature too well to suppose

that I would ever be able to detach her from this man now that she had

entirely given him her heart. I was not even sure how far it was right

to detach her if she had such an ameliorating influence over him. How

could I expose him without injuring her--and how far was I justified in

exposing him when he had voluntarily put himself into my power? I

thought and thought until at last I formed a resolution which may seem

to you to be a foolish one, and yet, if I had to do it again, I believe

it would be the best course open to me.

"My idea was to return the stones without anyone being the wiser. With

my keys I could get into the museum at any time, and I was confident

that 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--whom I told that I was about to visit my brother in Scotland.

I wanted a free hand for a few nights, without inquiry as to my comings

and goings. To this end I took a room in Harding Street that very

night, with an intimation that I was a Pressman, and that I should keep

very late hours.

"That night I made my way into the museum, and I replaced four of the

stones. It was hard work, and took me all night. When Simpson came

round I always heard his footsteps, and concealed myself in the

mummy-case. I had some knowledge of gold-work, but was far less

skilful than the thief had been. He had replaced the setting so

exactly that I defy anyone to see the difference. My work was rude and

clumsy. However, I hoped that the plate might not be carefully

examined, or the roughness of the setting observed, until my task was

done. Next night I replaced four more stones. And tonight I should

have finished my task had it not been for the unfortunate circumstance

which has caused me to reveal so much which I should have wished to

keep concealed. I appeal to you, gentlemen, to your sense of honour

and of compassion, whether what I have told you should go any farther

or not. My own happiness, my daughter's future, the hopes of this

man's regeneration, all depend upon your decision.

"Which is," said my friend, "that all is well that ends well and that

the whole matter ends here and at once. Tomorrow the loose settings

shall be tightened by an expert goldsmith, and so passes the greatest

danger to which, since the destruction of the Temple, the urim and

thummim has been exposed. Here is my hand, Professor Andreas, and I

can only hope that under such difficult circumstances I should have

carried myself as unselfishly and as well."

Just one footnote to this narrative. Within a month Elise Andreas was

married to a man whose name, had I the indiscretion to mention it,

would appeal 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 the gentle girl who plucked him back when he had gone so far

down that dark road along which few return.

End of Project Gutenberg's Tales of Terror and Mystery, by Arthur Conan Doyle