All that afternoon we talked over the Great Experiment, which seemed to
have become a definite entity in our thoughts. Mr. Trelawny became
more and more enthusiastic as the time wore on; hope was with him
becoming certainty. Doctor Winchester seemed to become imbued with
some of his spirit, though at times he would throw out some scientific
fact which would either make an impasse to the other’s line of
argument, or would come as an arresting shock. Mr. Corbeck, on the
other hand, seemed slightly antagonistic to the theory. It may have
been that whilst the opinions of the others advanced, his own stood
still; but the effect was an attitude which appeared negative, if not
wholly one of negation. As for Margaret, she seemed to be in some way overcome. Either it was
some new phase of feeling with her, or else she was taking the issue
more seriously than she had yet done. She was generally more or less
distraite, as though sunk in a brown study; from this she would recover
herself with a start. This was usually when there occurred some marked
episode in the journey, such as stopping at a station, or when the
thunderous rumble of crossing a viaduct woke the echoes of the hills or
cliffs around us. On each such occasion she would plunge into the
conversation, taking such a part in it as to show that, whatever had
been her abstracted thought, her senses had taken in fully all that had
gone on around her. Towards myself her manner was strange. Sometimes
it was marked by a distance, half shy, half haughty, which was new to
me. At other times there were moments of passion in look and gesture
which almost made me dizzy with delight. Little, however, of a marked
nature transpired during the journey. There was but one episode which
had in it any element of alarm, but as we were all asleep at the time
it did not disturb us. We only learned it from a communicative guard in
the morning. Whilst running between Dawlish and Teignmouth the train
was stopped by a warning given by someone who moved a torch to and fro
right on the very track. The driver had found on pulling up that just
ahead of the train a small landslip had taken place, some of the red
earth from the high bank having fallen away. It did not however reach
to the metals; and the driver had resumed his way, none too well
pleased at the delay. To use his own words, the guard thought “there
was too much bally caution on this ‘ere line!’”

We arrived at Westerton about nine o’clock in the evening. Carts and
horses were in waiting, and the work of unloading the train began at
once. Our own party did not wait to see the work done, as it was in
the hands of competent people. We took the carriage which was in
waiting, and through the darkness of the night sped on to Kyllion. We were all impressed by the house as it appeared in the bright
moonlight. A great grey stone mansion of the Jacobean period; vast and
spacious, standing high over the sea on the very verge of a high cliff. When we had swept round the curve of the avenue cut through the rock,
and come out on the high plateau on which the house stood, the crash
and murmur of waves breaking against rock far below us came with an
invigorating breath of moist sea air. We understood then in an instant
how well we were shut out from the world on that rocky shelf above the
sea. Within the house we found all ready. Mrs. Grant and her staff had
worked well, and all was bright and fresh and clean. We took a brief
survey of the chief rooms and then separated to have a wash and to
change our clothes after our long journey of more than four-and-twenty
hours. We had supper in the great dining-room on the south side, the walls of
which actually hung over the sea. The murmur came up muffled, but it
never ceased. As the little promontory stood well out into the sea,
the northern side of the house was open; and the due north was in no
way shut out by the great mass of rock, which, reared high above us,
shut out the rest of the world. Far off across the bay we could see
the trembling lights of the castle, and here and there along the shore
the faint light of a fisher’s window. For the rest the sea was a dark
blue plain with an occasional flicker of light as the gleam of
starlight fell on the slope of a swelling wave. When supper was over we all adjourned to the room which Mr. Trelawny
had set aside as his study, his bedroom being close to it. As we
entered, the first thing I noticed was a great safe, somewhat similar
to that which stood in his room in London. When we were in the room
Mr. Trelawny went over to the table, and, taking out his pocket-book,
laid it on the table. As he did so he pressed down on it with the palm
of his hand. A strange pallor came over his face. With fingers that
trembled he opened the book, saying as he did so:

“Its bulk does not seem the same; I hope nothing has happened!”

All three of us men crowded round close. Margaret alone remained calm;
she stood erect and silent, and still as a statue. She had a far-away
look in her eyes, as though she did not either know or care what was
going on around her. With a despairing gesture Trelawny threw open the pouch of the
pocket-book wherein he had placed the Jewel of Seven Stars. As he sank
down on the chair which stood close to him, he said in a hoarse voice:

“My God! it is gone. Without it the Great Experiment can come to
nothing!”

His words seemed to wake Margaret from her introspective mood. An
agonised spasm swept her face; but almost on the instant she was calm. She almost smiled as she said:

“You may have left it in your room, Father. Perhaps it has fallen out
of the pocket-book whilst you were changing.”  Without a word we all
hurried into the next room through the open door between the study and
the bedroom. And then a sudden calm fell on us like a cloud of fear. There! on the table, lay the Jewel of Seven Stars, shining and
sparkling with lurid light, as though each of the seven points of each
the seven stars gleamed through blood! Timidly we each looked behind us, and then at each other. Margaret was
now like the rest of us. She had lost her statuesque calm. All the
introspective rigidity had gone from her; and she clasped her hands
together till the knuckles were white. Without a word Mr. Trelawny raised the Jewel, and hurried with it into
the next room. As quietly as he could he opened the door of the safe
with the key fastened to his wrist and placed the Jewel within. When
the heavy doors were closed and locked he seemed to breathe more freely. Somehow this episode, though a disturbing one in many ways, seemed to
bring us back to our old selves. Since we had left London we had all
been overstrained; and this was a sort of relief. Another step in our
strange enterprise had been effected. The change back was more marked in Margaret than in any of us. Perhaps
it was that she was a woman, whilst we were men; perhaps it was that
she was younger than the rest; perhaps both reasons were effective,
each in its own way.