On the way to my room he said:

“I don’t half like leaving those things there, with only those men to
guard them. They’re a deal sight too precious to be left to the police!”

From which it would appear that suspicion was not confined to Sergeant
Daw. Mr. Corbeck and Doctor Winchester, after a quick glance at each other,
became at once on most friendly terms. The traveller professed his
willingness to be of any assistance which he could, provided, he added,
that it was anything about which he was free to speak. This was not
very promising; but Doctor Winchester began at once:

“I want you, if you will, to translate some hieroglyphic for me.”

“Certainly, with the greatest pleasure, so far as I can. For I may
tell you that hieroglyphic writing is not quite mastered yet; though we
are getting at it! We are getting at it! What is the inscription?”

“There are two,” he answered. “One of them I shall bring here.”

He went out, and returned in a minute with the mummy cat which he had
that evening introduced to Silvio. The scholar took it; and, after a
short examination, said:

“There is nothing especial in this. It is an appeal to Bast, the Lady
of Bubastis, to give her good bread and milk in the Elysian Fields. There may be more inside; and if you will care to unroll it, I will do
my best. I do not think, however, that there is anything special. From the method of wrapping I should say it is from the Delta; and of a
late period, when such mummy work was common and cheap. What is the
other inscription you wish me to see?”

“The inscription on the mummy cat in Mr. Trelawny’s room.”

Mr. Corbeck’s face fell. “No!” he said, “I cannot do that! I am, for
the present at all events, practically bound to secrecy regarding any
of the things in Mr. Trelawny’s room.”

Doctor Winchester’s comment and my own were made at the same moment. I
said only the one word “Checkmate!” from which I think he may have
gathered that I guessed more of his idea and purpose than perhaps I had
intentionally conveyed to him. He murmured:

“Practically bound to secrecy?”

Mr. Corbeck at once took up the challenge conveyed:

“Do not misunderstand me! I am not bound by any definite pledge of
secrecy; but I am bound in honour to respect Mr. Trelawny’s confidence,
given to me, I may tell you, in a very large measure. Regarding many
of the objects in his room he has a definite purpose in view; and it
would not be either right or becoming for me, his trusted friend and
confidant, to forestall that purpose. Mr. Trelawny, you may know—or
rather you do not know or you would not have so construed my remark—is
a scholar, a very great scholar. He has worked for years toward a
certain end. For this he has spared no labour, no expense, no personal
danger or self-denial. He is on the line of a result which will place
him amongst the foremost discoverers or investigators of his age. And
now, just at the time when any hour might bring him success, he is
stricken down!”

He stopped, seemingly overcome with emotion. After a time he recovered
himself and went on:

“Again, do not misunderstand me as to another point. I have said that
Mr. Trelawny has made much confidence with me; but I do not mean to
lead you to believe that I know all his plans, or his aims or objects. I know the period which he has been studying; and the definite
historical individual whose life he has been investigating, and whose
records he has been following up one by one with infinite patience. But beyond this I know nothing. That he has some aim or object in the
completion of this knowledge I am convinced. What it is I may guess;
but I must say nothing. Please to remember, gentlemen, that I have
voluntarily accepted the position of recipient of a partial confidence. I have respected that; and I must ask any of my friends to do the same.”

He spoke with great dignity; and he grew, moment by moment, in the
respect and esteem of both Doctor Winchester and myself. We understood
that he had not done speaking; so we waited in silence till he
continued:

“I have spoken this much, although I know well that even such a hint as
either of you might gather from my words might jeopardise the success
of his work. But I am convinced that you both wish to help him—and
his daughter,” he said this looking me fairly between the eyes, “to the
best of your power, honestly and unselfishly. He is so stricken down,
and the manner of it is so mysterious that I cannot but think that it
is in some way a result of his own work. That he calculated on some
set-back is manifest to us all. God knows! I am willing to do what I
can, and to use any knowledge I have in his behalf. I arrived in
England full of exultation at the thought that I had fulfilled the
mission with which he had trusted me. I had got what he said were the
last objects of his search; and I felt assured that he would now be
able to begin the experiment of which he had often hinted to me. It is
too dreadful that at just such a time such a calamity should have
fallen on him. Doctor Winchester, you are a physician; and, if your
face does not belie you, you are a clever and a bold one. Is there no
way which you can devise to wake this man from his unnatural stupor?”

There was a pause; then the answer came slowly and deliberately:

“There is no ordinary remedy that I know of. There might possibly be
some extraordinary one. But there would be no use in trying to find
it, except on one condition.”

“And that?”

“Knowledge! I am completely ignorant of Egyptian matters, language,
writing, history, secrets, medicines, poisons, occult powers—all that
go to make up the mystery of that mysterious land. This disease, or
condition, or whatever it may be called, from which Mr. Trelawny is
suffering, is in some way connected with Egypt. I have had a suspicion
of this from the first; and later it grew into a certainty, though
without proof. What you have said tonight confirms my conjecture, and
makes me believe that a proof is to be had. I do not think that you
quite know all that has gone on in this house since the night of the
attack—of the finding of Mr. Trelawny’s body. Now I propose that we
confide in you. If Mr. Ross agrees, I shall ask him to tell you. He is
more skilled than I am in putting facts before other people. He can
speak by his brief; and in this case he has the best of all briefs, the
experience of his own eyes and ears, and the evidence that he has
himself taken on the spot from participators in, or spectators of, what
has happened. When you know all, you will, I hope, be in a position to
judge as to whether you can best help Mr. Trelawny, and further his
secret wishes, by your silence or your speech.”

I nodded approval. Mr. Corbeck jumped up, and in his impulsive way
held out a hand to each. “Done!” he said.