“There must have been a weak
spot somewhere, or he wouldn’t be lying here like that!”  Somehow his
impassiveness surprised me. I had expected that he would find a valid
argument in my phrase; but it did not move him, at least not in the way
I thought. Something like a smile flickered over his swarthy face as
he answered me:

“This is not the end! Trelawny did not guard himself to no purpose. Doubtless, he expected this too; or at any rate the possibility of it.”

“Do you know what he expected, or from what source?”  The questioner
was Miss Trelawny. The answer came at once:  “No! I know nothing of either. I can
guess...”  He stopped suddenly. “Guess what?”  The suppressed excitement in the girl’s voice was akin
to anguish. The steely look came over the swarthy face again; but there
was tenderness and courtesy in both voice and manner as he replied:

“Believe me, I would do anything I honestly could to relieve your
anxiety. But in this I have a higher duty.”

“What duty?”

“Silence!”  As he spoke the word, the strong mouth closed like a steel
trap. We all remained silent for a few minutes. In the intensity of our
thinking, the silence became a positive thing; the small sounds of life
within and without the house seemed intrusive. The first to break it
was Miss Trelawny. I had seen an idea—a hope—flash in her eyes; but
she steadied herself before speaking:

“What was the urgent subject on which you wanted to see me, knowing
that my Father was—not available?”  The pause showed her mastery of
her thoughts. The instantaneous change in Mr. Corbeck was almost ludicrous. His
start of surprise, coming close upon his iron-clad impassiveness, was
like a pantomimic change. But all idea of comedy was swept away by the
tragic earnestness with which he remembered his original purpose. “My God!” he said, as he raised his hand from the chair back on which
it rested, and beat it down with a violence which would in itself have
arrested attention. His brows corrugated as he went on:  “I quite
forgot! What a loss! Now of all times! Just at the moment of
success! He lying there helpless, and my tongue tied! Not able to
raise hand or foot in my ignorance of his wishes!”

“What is it? Oh, do tell us! I am so anxious about my dear Father! Is it any new trouble? I hope not! oh, I hope not! I have had such
anxiety and trouble already! It alarms me afresh to hear you speak so! Won’t you tell me something to allay this terrible anxiety and
uncertainty?”

He drew his sturdy form up to his full height as he said:

“Alas! I cannot, may not, tell you anything. It is his secret.”  He
pointed to the bed. “And yet—and yet I came here for his advice, his
counsel, his assistance. And he lies there helpless.... And time is
flying by us! It may soon be too late!”

“What is it? what is it?” broke in Miss Trelawny in a sort of passion
of anxiety, her face drawn with pain. “Oh, speak! Say something! This anxiety, and horror, and mystery are killing me!”  Mr. Corbeck
calmed himself by a great effort. “I may not tell you details; but I have had a great loss. My mission,
in which I have spent three years, was successful. I discovered all
that I sought—and more; and brought them home with me safely. Treasures, priceless in themselves, but doubly precious to him by whose
wishes and instructions I sought them. I arrived in London only last
night, and when I woke this morning my precious charge was stolen. Stolen in some mysterious way. Not a soul in London knew that I was
arriving. No one but myself knew what was in the shabby portmanteau
that I carried. My room had but one door, and that I locked and
bolted. The room was high in the house, five stories up, so that no
entrance could have been obtained by the window. Indeed, I had closed
the window myself and shut the hasp, for I wished to be secure in every
way. This morning the hasp was untouched.... And yet my portmanteau
was empty. The lamps were gone! ... There! it is out. I went to Egypt
to search for a set of antique lamps which Mr. Trelawny wished to
trace. With incredible labour, and through many dangers, I followed
them. I brought them safe home.... And now!”  He turned away much
moved. Even his iron nature was breaking down under the sense of loss. Miss Trelawny stepped over and laid her hand on his arm. I looked at
her in amazement. All the passion and pain which had so moved her
seemed to have taken the form of resolution. Her form was erect, her
eyes blazed; energy was manifest in every nerve and fibre of her being. Even her voice was full of nervous power as she spoke. It was apparent
that she was a marvellously strong woman, and that her strength could
answer when called upon. “We must act at once! My Father’s wishes must be carried out if it is
possible to us. Mr. Ross, you are a lawyer. We have actually in the
house a man whom you consider one of the best detectives in London. Surely we can do something. We can begin at once!”  Mr. Corbeck took
new life from her enthusiasm. “Good! You are your Father’s daughter!” was all he said. But his
admiration for her energy was manifested by the impulsive way in which
he took her hand. I moved over to the door. I was going to bring
Sergeant Daw; and from her look of approval, I knew that Margaret—Miss
Trelawny—understood. I was at the door when Mr. Corbeck called me
back. “One moment,” he said, “before we bring a stranger on the scene. It
must be borne in mind that he is not to know what you know now, that
the lamps were the objects of a prolonged and difficult and dangerous
search. All I can tell him, all that he must know from any source, is
that some of my property has been stolen. I must describe some of the
lamps, especially one, for it is of gold; and my fear is lest the
thief, ignorant of its historic worth, may, in order to cover up his
crime, have it melted. I would willingly pay ten, twenty, a hundred, a
thousand times its intrinsic value rather than have it destroyed. I
shall tell him only what is necessary. So, please, let me answer any
questions he may ask; unless, of course, I ask you or refer to either
of you for the answer.”  We both nodded acquiescence. Then a thought
struck me and I said:

“By the way, if it be necessary to keep this matter quiet it will be
better to have it if possible a private job for the Detective. If once
a thing gets to Scotland Yard it is out of our power to keep it quiet,
and further secrecy may be impossible. I shall sound Sergeant Daw
before he comes up. If I say nothing, it will mean that he accepts the
task and will deal with it privately.”  Mr. Corbeck answered at once:

“Secrecy is everything. The one thing I dread is that the lamps, or
some of them, may be destroyed at once.”  To my intense astonishment
Miss Trelawny spoke out at once, but quietly, in a decided voice:

“They will not be destroyed; nor any of them!”  Mr. Corbeck actually
smiled in amazement. “How on earth do you know?” he asked.