The Great God Gold

Chapter Thirty Three

In the Night

Laura, the parlour-maid, had been let in at the area-door by the cook, to whom she had made her excuses for the lateness of the hour, and had crept up to her room, fully satisfied at having assisted her good-looking lover. She was, of course, in utter ignorance that “Mr Miller” was the person to whom Miss Gwen’s mysterious absence from home had been due. Otherwise she certainly would not have fallen into the trap.

Meanwhile, in the study, with the typed folios of the cipher before him, the old Professor sat making certain explanations to his daughter and answering her eager questions.

“We ought to telegraph to Frank the first thing in the morning, dad!” she cried, when she had recovered from her excitement at learning the secret.

“I have not yet decided upon my course of action, dear,” was his slow, deliberate answer. “To-night we are dealing with this astounding record of the authenticity of which there seems not the slightest doubt. I have been using the exact copy of the St. Petersburg text of Ezekiel – the oldest known manuscript. It is evident from the word of Michaiah the scribe, that, having invented the cipher, he altered certain words of the original text of Ezekiel with Ezekiel’s knowledge and consent, in order to include in the book this secret record.”

“It agrees entirely with Biblical history, does it not?” asked the girl.

“Yes. Several hitherto uncertain facts are here explained. For instance, it is now made quite clear that Shishak, King of Egypt, restored to the Temple certain of the basins of gold made by Solomon. Again, Michaiah shows that none of the sacred vessels secreted were afterwards used in the Temple. Those used in the second temple were certainly those carried away by Nebuchadnezzar and restored by Cyrus.”

Then rising he took from a cupboard a large roll-map of the environs of Jerusalem issued by the Palestine Exploration Fund, and both studied it very closely.

“What is meant by the mount of Solomon’s idolatry?” asked Gwen.

“It is now known as the Mount of the Offence,” he answered. “Here it is – about half a mile almost due south of the temple mount. Sometimes it is called the Mount of Scandal, for upon it Solomon and some of his successors built high places, altars to Moloch, to Ashtoreth, and to other strange gods. (1 Kings xi, 5-7.) I recollect the hill quite well. On the summit is now a Benedictine Monastery, while the slopes are occupied by a Jewish cemetery. The Turks call it Baten el Hawa (Bottle of the Winds). The measurements given seem to be most explicit, the entrance to the chamber being on the west side of the extreme south of the mount, facing the sudden bend in the Valley of Hinnom. See, here,” and he pointed to the spot upon the map. “And at the east side, at some spot to be determined by measurements, are the secret flood-gates by which the waters can be released. The ‘dry-room’ is evidently situated above the water-tunnels, at such a height that the waters never rise there.”

“And can those ancient measures be worked out to modern measures?”

“Yes. We practically know almost exactly what was the reed, and what was the legal cubit of the days of Jehoiakim as compared with the ordinary cubit. Surveyors will have no difficulty in finding the exact spot indicated.”

“You do not think, dad, that after the restoration and rebuilding of the Temple that the treasures were recovered?”

“Certainly not. If so, we should certainly have had some record in Holy Writ of the Ark of the Covenant and the tablets. But there is none. Since a few days before Nebuchadnezzar’s hosts entered Jerusalem, the Ark has never been seen. My firm belief is that it is still in its place of concealment as stated by Michaiah the scribe.”

“And what shall you do now, dad?” inquired the girl, her elbows upon the table, as she looked up into his face. “You have solved a problem that will startle the whole world!”

“Yes, dear,” he sighed, passing his hand across his brow. “It is so remarkable that I hardly know how to act. I must, of course, see Diamond and Farquhar, and consult with them. One thing is quite certain; for the present we must keep this matter a most profound secret. If our enemies were to gain wind of it, they would send out at once and purchase the land for themselves.”

“But they can’t know, dad.”

“Ah, dear! I’m – I’m suspicious. With such enormous possibilities before us, who knows that our secret enemies may not have bribed our servants,” he said. “For that reason, Gwen dear – and please forgive me – fearing that there might be eaves-droppers, I purposely, when explaining to you the cipher this afternoon, rearranged and omitted some of the second portion of it, so that our secret could not possibly leak out.”

“But surely, dad!” cried the girl. “You don’t suspect Laura or Mullingar, or Kate, being in the employ of our enemies, do you?”

“My child, it is best to be always wary in a matter such as this. As your friend Mr Mullet has already told you, they appear to be most unscrupulous.”

“I wonder where Mr Mullet is – why he doesn’t write or telephone to me, as he promised.”

“Don’t distress yourself about him,” urged the old Professor. “We hold the secret, and for to-night at least that is sufficient.”

And then, after gathering the typed sheets together he put a fastener through them and locked the precious decipher carefully in one of the drawers of his writing-table. Then a few moments later, it already being two o’clock in the morning, they both ascended to their rooms.

When upon the landing, the old man kissed his daughter tenderly on the brow as was his habit, saying:

“Good-night, my child. I fear you must be very tired. But think! – we have completed our task. We alone know the great secret which will convulse the whole civilised world!”

In her own pretty room Gwen threw herself into the cosy chintz-covered armchair before the fire, and pondered deeply.

She was thinking of Frank – ever of him. Though she had been fond of flirtation, and though perhaps she had committed grave breaches of the convenances before she had known young Farquhar, yet all had now changed. She would give her very life for him – for was she not his, and his alone?

Over her spread the thought of the man who had posed as Frank’s friend – that man who had laughed defiance in her face, the man who was in league with her father’s enemies. Who was he? What was he? she wondered. Then there rose before her the recollection of the man Mullet, the man with the ugly past, as he himself had admitted, yet nevertheless devoted to his little daughter, and a gentleman. She longed to see him again – to introduce him to her lover, and to tell the latter the whole strange truth.

To her, it seemed as though Mullet feared the man who had so cleverly entrapped her, just as he was the “cat’s-paw” of the bloated red-faced man who had raised his hand to strike her.

Who were these people? she wondered. Why did Mullet fear them?

Having exchanged her dress for an easy robe-de-chambre, she sat before the fire plaiting her long dark tresses, her eyes fixed upon the fire, now fast dying away.

She had knowledge of that marvellous secret – the whereabouts of the bewildering treasure of Israel. Yet how would it all end? Why had her father suspicion of spies in their own home? What could he suspect?

She wondered, as she had often wondered, what conclusion her father had formed regarding her mysterious absence from home, and often, in her moments of reflection, she found herself puzzled and pondering regarding her unconsciousness on that never-to-be-forgotten night when she had found herself alone and helpless in the hands of the man who had laughed at her innocence and dismay.

She dare not tell Frank. It was her secret – a dark secret which she had resolved to keep at all hazards – one that he should never know.

“But he is mine again!” she murmured to herself, a sweet smile of contentment playing about her lips. “I have been a fickle girl, I know, but, after all, every girl is entitled to have one good time in her life. I’ve had mine, and I have found Frank. I love him, and he loves me. I know he does. And to-morrow dad will ‘wire’ him, and I shall see him again. Ah! what will he say, I wonder – now that dad has discovered the secret. Dear old dad! He deserves all the kudos he’ll get from the great discovery, for he’s worked hard – worked night and day almost. And the ugly little Doctor? I wonder how he’ll take it? One thing is plain, that we have outwitted that red-faced scoundrel and his friends. We know the truth, while they are still in ignorance.”

For a long time she sat, her pretty head, with its two long plaits secured by blue ribbons, pillowed upon the muslin-covered cushion in the low comfortable armchair, her bare feet thrust into slippers, and upon her sweet countenance an expression of calm content.

The little clock upon her mantelshelf, chiming the half-hour – half-past three – aroused her from her reverie, and she shivered, for the fire had died away and the room had now become chilly. So preoccupied had she been that she had not noticed that the fire was already out.

As she stirred herself, she suddenly recollected that, downstairs in the study, she had left her book in which she was greatly interested, and which she wanted to continue when she awoke in the morning. It was a heavy work of one of the German philosophers which she was studying, for since leaving school she had done a vast amount of reading, especially French and German literature. She was highly educated and cultured, and, unlike the average young girl of our twentieth century, she had not put aside her books with her ankle-skirts.

In her long trailing robe of pale eau-de-nil she crossed the room, and seating herself at her writing-table scribbled a note to her dressmaker, which she had forgotten. Then having put a stamp upon it, she quickly opened her door, crept softly past her father’s room, fearing to wake him, and down the thickly carpeted stairs where her slippered feet fell noiselessly.

She had no candle, but she knew her way about the house quite well in the dark, and also knew where to put her hand upon most of the electric switches.

Creeping softly down, afraid every moment that the stairs would creak – for stairs always have a horrid habit of creaking in the silence of the night – she carried the letter in her hand for the purpose of placing it in the rack in the study which Laura always cleared when she went to the room in the morning, and Kate took the letters to the post-office down at the corner.

Reaching the landing she crossed it to the study-door, but as she did so she saw, to her surprise, a light issuing from the crack beneath.

Her father had evidently returned there to continue his work, as he sometimes did when unable to sleep.

For a second she hesitated whether she should enter, but making up her mind suddenly, she placed her fingers upon the handle and opened the door.

Next instant, however, uttering a low cry, she stood upon the threshold, rigid as one petrified.

Chapter Thirty Four

“Silence for Silence!”

“You!”

It was the only word which the girl uttered, but its tone showed her horror and indignation.

The green-shaded light was, she saw, switched on at the writing-table, and as she entered, there before her, seated in her father’s chair, was the man who had posed as Frank’s friend, “Captain Wetherton!”

As she had slowly opened the door he had raised his head, pale and startled. But only for a second. When he recognised who it was, he rose and, bowing, smiled with perfect sangfroid.

He had entered the house with the false latch-key which he had had made from the wax impression he had taken of the key which Gwen had carried on that night of the false assignation. His only fear had been, however, a meeting with the girl Laura.

Now that he saw that it was not she, he only smiled triumphantly.

“Yes,” he said simply. “It’s me! Are you very surprised?”

Instantly she recognised that, upon the blotting-pad, was lying open the precious document which she herself had typed. He had opened the drawer, abstracted it, and read it.

He, her enemy, knew their secret!

“By what right, pray, are you here, sir?” she demanded, advancing into the room boldly, and facing him.

“I have no right. I’m here just by my own will,” was his quick, defiant response.

“This is my father’s house, and I shall alarm him,” she said determinedly. “You have no right thus to pry into his private affairs!”

“I have to decide that, Miss Griffin,” he said, as over his dark face spread that evil smile she remembered so well.

Having risen from the chair, he had now advanced closely to her. She noticed that he wore thick woollen socks over his boots, so as to muffle his footsteps, while upon his hands were a pair of grey suède gloves which appeared too large for him. Jim Jannaway had been a man of many precautions, ever since his finger-prints had been taken on a certain memorable day at Ipswich police-station, prior to his conviction.

“But,” he laughed, examining her from head to toe, “you really look charming, my dear little girl – even better than when in your walking kit. Why!” he exclaimed, pointing across the room. “Why – what’s that – over there?”

She turned suddenly, taking her eyes off him for an instant, but saw nothing. His ruse succeeded, for that instant was sufficient for him to slip behind her and close the door, turning the key in the lock.

“I must apologise for doing this in your own house, Miss Griffin, but I fear that we may be overheard,” he said. “Now I want to have a very serious chat with you.”

“I wish to say nothing to you, sir,” she replied drawing herself up haughtily, the train of her pretty gown sweeping the floor. “I only demand to know what you are doing here, reading my father’s papers.”

“And suppose I refuse to tell you – eh?” he asked, raising his brows.

“Then I shall scream, and alarm the household. They will hand you over to the police.”

“And if you were so ill-advised as to do that, Miss Griffin,” answered the fellow impudently, advancing a step nearer to her, and looking straight into her face. “Well – you would suffer very severely for it. That’s all.”

“I’m prepared to take all the consequences,” was her calm reply.

“Take care!” he said threateningly, in a low hoarse voice. “I’m a desperate man when driven into a corner.”

“You mean rather that you’re a coward when cornered,” she said coldly. “I am glad to have this opportunity of meeting, in order to repay you for the gross injustice which you have done me.”

“You’re a little fool!” he said in a hard tone. “Keep quiet, or somebody will hear you.”

“You entrapped me in that place. I have now entrapped you – in my own house,” she exclaimed, with a look of triumph.

“Not for long,” he said determinedly. “Do you know that I could strangle you where you stand, and still get clear. Even though you screamed. I already have a rope on the balcony yonder, down into the street. But don’t be alarmed. I have no wish to injure you, my dear little girl – not in the least. We will just make an arrangement, and cry quits.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, listen. You’ve discovered me here, and you could give me away. But I want to buy your silence.”

“Buy my silence!” she exclaimed, staring at him. “Yes. Why not? You must buy mine. Shall we not then be quits?”

She regarded him with a puzzled air. He was her bitterest foe, and she was wondering what was the true meaning of the suggestion. She was undecided, too, whether not to alarm the house, instead of parleying further. She had caught the fellow in her father’s room wearing the apparel of the modern burglar, therefore the police would, without doubt, arrest him as such.

Suddenly her mind was made up, and with a quick movement she rushed across to the electric bell beside the fireplace.

He gave vent to a short dry laugh of triumph, the reason of which was next second plain. The little porcelain push had been broken, and the contact disarranged.

Jim Jannaway always took precautions. He was a cool and calculating scoundrel.

She turned upon him in quick anger, and he saw that she intended to scream for help.

“One moment, if you please, Miss Griffin,” he cried in a low voice. “Just hear my suggestion before you raise the alarm and compel me to depart hurriedly through the window. A word now will save both of us a great deal of unnecessary bother afterwards. You’re a very brave little girl, and I admire you for it. Most other girls, on seeing me here, would have gone into hysterics, or fainted. But you’re a little ‘brick.’”

“Thank you, this is really no time for compliments,” was her cold, resentful reply. “Please say what you have to say, and quickly.”

She had managed to cross the room half-way, and from where she now stood she could see that the precious document she had typed lay open at its last page. The fellow had evidently read it all!

“Well,” he said, in that easy-going manner of his that she found so extremely irritating. “As far as I can at present discern, Miss Griffin, the game is a drawn one. I can quite – ”

“I consider it blackguardly impertinence on your part to enter my father’s house at night, and read his private papers,” she protested, her face pale and determined.

“My dear girl, to me your opinion of my actions really doesn’t matter,” he laughed. “I wanted to discover something, and have adopted the easiest means of doing so.”

“Even at risk of being arrested?”

“Oh, I shan’t be arrested,” he laughed. “Don’t think I’m afraid of that. Why, my dear girl, perhaps you wouldn’t believe it, but this isn’t the first time I’ve been in this very room. I know what’s in all those drawers yonder, and even the balance in your father’s banker’s pass-book.”

“You’ve been here before!” gasped the girl astounded. “How did you get in?”

“Why, with your own key. It was easy enough. Your servants never bolt the front door. They really ought to be more careful, you know,” he laughed.

She hesitated for a moment, and in that slight hesitation he, crafty malefactor that he was, recognised that he had triumphed.

“I may presume, I suppose, that you’ve read that document upon the writing-table?” she asked a moment later.

“I have – every word of it,” he replied, with a polite bow.

“That is why you came here?”

“It was. I really expected to experience greater trouble in finding it. I opened only three drawers before coming across it.”