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Page 56
"Has the case been mended?"
"Yes; it is quite intact again; only the exhibit is missing."
We ascended the stairs, passed along the Assyrian Room, which seemed
to be unusually crowded, and entered the lofty apartment known as
the Burton Room. The sunblinds were drawn, and a sort of dim,
religious light prevailed therein. A group of visitors stood around
an empty case at the farther end of the apartment.
"You see," said Mostyn, pointing, "that empty case has a greater
attraction than all the other full ones!"
But I scarcely heeded his words, for I was intently watching the
movements of one of the group about the empty case. I have said
that the room was but dimly illuminated, and this fact, together
no doubt with some effect of reflected light, enhanced by my
imagination, perhaps produced the phenomenon which was occasioning
me so much amazement.
Remember that my mind was filled with memories of weird things,
that I often found myself thinking of that mystic light which
Hassan of Aleppo had called the light of El-Medineh--that light
whereby, undeterred by distance, he claimed to be able to trace the
whereabouts of any of the relics of the Prophet.
Bristol and Mostyn walked on then; but I stood just within the
doorway, intently, breathlessly watching an old man wearing an
out-of-date Inverness coat and a soft felt hat. He had a gray
beard and moustache, and long, untidy hair, walked with a stoop,
and in short was no unusual type of Visitor to that institution.
But it seemed to me, and the closer I watched him the more
convinced I became, that this was no optical illusion, that a faint
luminosity, a sort of elfin light, played eerily about his head!
As Bristol and Mostyn approached the case the old man began to walk
toward me and in the direction of the door. The idea flashed
through my mind that it might be Hassan of Aleppo himself, Hassan
who had predicted that the stolen slipper should that day be
returned to the Museum!
Then he came abreast of me, passed me, and I felt that my
surmise had been wrong. I saw Bristol, from farther up the room,
turn and look back. Something attracted his trained eye, I suppose,
which was not perceptible to me. But he suddenly came striding
along. Obviously he was pursuing the old man, who was just about
to leave the apartment. Seeing that the latter had reached the
doorway, Bristol began to run.
The old man turned; and amid a chorus of exclamations from the
astonished spectators, Bristol sprang upon him!
How it all came about T cannot say, cannot hope to describe; but
there was a short, sharp scuffle, the crack of a well-directed
blow . . . and Bristol was rolling on his back, the old man,
hatless, was racing up the Assyrian Room, and everyone in the place
seemed to be shouting at once!
Bristol, with blood streaming from his face, staggered to his feet,
clutching at me for support.
"After him, Mr. Cavanagh!" he cried hoarsely. "It's your turn
to-day! After him! That's Earl Dexter!"
Mostyn waited for no more, but went running quickly through the
Assyrian Room. I may mention here that at the head of the stairs
he found the caped Inverness which had served to conceal Dexter's
mutilated arm, and later, behind a piece of statuary, a wig and
a very ingenious false beard and moustache were discovered. But
of The Stetson Man there was no trace. His brief start had enabled
him to make good his escape.
As Mostyn went off, and a group of visitors flocked in our
direction, Bristol, who had been badly shaken by the blow, turned
to them.
"You will please all leave the Burton Room immediately," he said.
Looks of surprise greeted his words; but with his handkerchief
raised to his face, he peremptorily repeated them. The official
note in his voice was readily to be detected; and the wonder-stricken
group departed with many a backward glance.
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