|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 14
EDWARD DEEPING.
"It is almost incredible!" I said hoarsely.
Bristol returned the letter to me without a word, and turning to
Lester, who had reentered carrying a heavy pick-axe, he attacked
the oblong box with savage energy.
Through the house of death the sound of the blows echoed and rang
with a sort of sacrilegious mockery. The box fell to pieces.
"My God! look, sir!"
Lester was the trembling speaker.
The box, I have said, was but three feet long by one foot square,
and had clearly defied poor Deeping's efforts to open it. But a
crescent-shaped knife, wet with blood, lay within!
CHAPTER V
THE OCCUPANT OF THE BOX
Dimly to my ears came the ceaseless murmur of London. The night now
was far advanced, and not a sound disturbed the silence of the court
below my windows.
Professor Deeping's "Assyrian Mythology" lay open before me, beside
it my notebook. A coal dropped from the fire, and I half started up
out of my chair. My nerves were all awry, and I had more than my
horrible memories of the murdered man to thank for it. Let me
explain what I mean.
When, after assisting, or endeavouring to assist, Bristol at his
elaborate inquiries, I had at last returned to my chambers, I had
become the victim of a singular delusion--though one common enough
in the case of persons whose nerves are overwrought. I had thought
myself followed.
During the latter part of my journey I found myself constantly
looking from the little window at the rear of the cab. I had an
impression that some vehicle was tracking us. Then, when I
discharged the man and walked up the narrow passage to the court,
it was fear of a skulking form that dodged from shadow to shadow
which obsessed me.
Finally, as I entered the hall and mounted the darkened stair, from
the first landing I glanced down into the black well beneath.
Blazing yellow eyes, I thought, looked up at me!
I will confess that I leapt up the remaining flight of stairs to my
door, and, safely within, found myself trembling as if with a palsy.
When I sat down to write (for sleep was an impossible proposition)
I placed my revolver upon the table beside me. I cannot say why.
It afforded me some sense of protection, I suppose. My conclusions,
thus far, amounted to the following--
The apparition of the phantom scimitar was due to the presence of
someone who, by means of the moonlight, or of artificial light,
cast a reflection of such a weapon as that found in the oblong chest
upon the wall of a darkened apartment--as, Deeping's stateroom on
the Mandalay, his study, etc.
A group of highly efficient assassins, evidently Moslem fanatics,
who might or might not be of the ancient order of the Hashishin,
had pursued the stolen slipper to England. They had severed any
hand, other than that of a Believer, which had touched the case
containing it. (The Coptic porter was a Christian.)
Uncertain, possibly, of Deeping's faith, or fearful of endangering
the success of their efforts by an outrage upon him en route, they
had refrained from this until his arrival at his house. He had
been warned of his impending end by Ahmad Ahmadeen.
Who was Ahmadeen? And who was his beautiful associate? I found
myself unable, at present, to answer either of those questions. In
order to gain access to Professor Deeping, who so carefully secluded
himself, a box had been sent to him by ordinary carrier. (As I sat
at my table, Scotland Yard was busy endeavouring to trace the
sender.) Respecting this box we had made an extraordinary discovery.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|