The Jew's Breastplate





My particular friend, Ward Mortimer, was one of the best men of

his day at everything connected with Oriental archaeology. He

had written largely upon the subject, he had lived two years in a

tomb at Thebes, while he excavated in the Valley of the Kings,

and finally he had created a considerable sensation by his

exhumation of the alleged mummy of Cleopatra in the inner room of

the Temple of Horus, at Philae. With such a record at the age of

thirty-one, it was felt that a considerable career lay before

him, and no one was surprised when he was elected to the

curatorship of the Belmore Street Museum, which carries with it

the lectureship at the Oriental College, and an income which has

sunk with the fall in land, but which still remains at that ideal

sum which is large enough to encourage an investigator, but not

so large as to enervate him.



There was only one reason which made Ward Mortimer's position

a little difficult at the Belmore Street Museum, and that was the

extreme eminence of the man whom he had to succeed. Professor

Andreas was a profound scholar and a man of European reputation.

His lectures were frequented by students from every part of the

world, and his admirable management of the collection intrusted to

his care was a commonplace in all learned societies. There was,

therefore, considerable surprise when, at the age of fifty-five, he

suddenly resigned his position and retired from those duties which

had been both his livelihood and his pleasure. He and his daughter

left the comfortable suite of rooms which had formed his official

residence in connection with the museum, and my friend, Mortimer,

who was a bachelor, took up his quarters there.



On hearing of Mortimer's appointment Professor Andreas had

written him a very kindly and flattering congratulatory letter. I

was actually present at their first meeting, and I went with

Mortimer round the museum when the Professor showed us the

admirable collection which he had cherished so long. The

Professor's beautiful daughter and a young man, Captain Wilson, who

was, as I understood, soon to be her husband, accompanied us in our

inspection. There were fifteen rooms, but the Babylonian, the

Syrian, and the central hall, which contained the Jewish and

Egyptian collection, were the finest of all. Professor Andreas was

a quiet, dry, elderly man, with a clean-shaven face and an

impassive manner, but his dark eyes sparkled and his features

quickened into enthusiastic life as he pointed out to us the rarity

and the beauty of some of his specimens. His hand lingered so

fondly over them, that one could read his pride in them and the

grief in his heart now that they were passing from his care into

that of another.



He had shown us in turn his mummies, his papyri, his rare

scarabs, his inscriptions, his Jewish relics, and his duplication

of the famous seven-branched candlestick of the Temple, which was

brought to Rome by Titus, and which is supposed by some to be lying

at this instant in the bed of the Tiber. Then he approached a case

which stood in the very centre of the hall, and he looked down

through the glass with reverence in his attitude and manner.



"This is no novelty to an expert like yourself, Mr. Mortimer,"

said he; "but I daresay that your friend, Mr. Jackson, will be

interested to see it."



Leaning over the case I saw an object, some five inches square,

which consisted of twelve precious stones in a framework of gold,

with golden hooks at two of the corners. The stones were all

varying in sort and colour, but they were of the same size. Their

shapes, arrangement, and gradation of tint made me think of a box

of water-colour paints. Each stone had some hieroglyphic scratched

upon its surface.



"You have heard, Mr. Jackson, of the urim and thummim?"



I had heard the term, but my idea of its meaning was

exceedingly vague.



"The urim and thummim was a name given to the jewelled plate

which lay upon the breast of the high priest of the Jews. They had

a very special feeling of reverence for it--something of the

feeling which an ancient Roman might have for the Sibylline

books in the Capitol. There are, as you see, twelve magnificent

stones, inscribed with mystical characters. Counting from the

left-hand top corner, the stones are carnelian, peridot, emerald,

ruby, lapis lazuli, onyx, sapphire, agate, amethyst, topaz, beryl,

and jasper."



I was amazed at the variety and beauty of the stones.



"Has the breastplate any particular history?" I asked.



"It is of great age and of immense value," said Professor

Andreas. "Without being able to make an absolute assertion, we

have many reasons to think that it is possible that it may be the

original urim and thummim of Solomon's Temple. There is certainly

nothing so fine in any collection in Europe. My friend, Captain

Wilson, here, is a practical authority upon precious stones, and he

would tell you how pure these are."



Captain Wilson, a man with a dark, hard, incisive face, was

standing beside his fiancee at the other side of the case.



"Yes," said he, curtly, "I have never seen finer stones."



"And the gold-work is also worthy of attention. The ancients

excelled in----"--he was apparently about to indicate the setting

of the stones, when Captain Wilson interrupted him.



"You will see a finer example of their gold-work in this

candlestick," said he, turning to another table, and we all joined

him in his admiration of its embossed stem and delicately

ornamented branches. Altogether it was an interesting and a novel

experience to have objects of such rarity explained by so great an

expert; and when, finally, Professor Andreas finished our

inspection by formally handing over the precious collection to the

care of my friend, I could not help pitying him and envying his

successor whose life was to pass in so pleasant a duty. Within a

week, Ward Mortimer was duly installed in his new set of rooms, and

had become the autocrat of the Belmore Street Museum.



About a fortnight afterwards my friend gave a small dinner to

half a dozen bachelor friends to celebrate his promotion. When his

guests were departing he pulled my sleeve and signalled to me that

he wished me to remain.



"You have only a few hundred yards to go," said he--I was

living in chambers in the Albany. "You may as well stay and have

a quiet cigar with me. I very much want your advice."



I relapsed into an arm-chair and lit one of his excellent

Matronas. When he had returned from seeing the last of his

guests out, he drew a letter from his dress-jacket and sat down

opposite to me.



"This is an anonymous letter which I received this morning,"

said he. "I want to read it to you and to have your advice."



"You are very welcome to it for what it is worth."



"This is how the note runs: `Sir,--I should strongly advise

you to keep a very careful watch over the many valuable things

which are committed to your charge. I do not think that the

present system of a single watchman is sufficient. Be upon your

guard, or an irreparable misfortune may occur.'"



"Is that all?"



"Yes, that is all."



"Well," said I, "it is at least obvious that it was written by

one of the limited number of people who are aware that you have

only one watchman at night."



Ward Mortimer handed me the note, with a curious smile. "Have

you an eye for handwriting?" said he. "Now, look at this!" He put

another letter in front of me. "Look at the c in

`congratulate' and the c in `committed.' Look at the capital

I. Look at the trick of putting in a dash instead of a stop!"



"They are undoubtedly from the same hand--with some attempt at

disguise in the case of this first one."



"The second," said Ward Mortimer, "is the letter of

congratulation which was written to me by Professor Andreas upon my

obtaining my appointment."



I stared at him in amazement. Then I turned over the letter in

my hand, and there, sure enough, was "Martin Andreas" signed upon

the other side. There could be no doubt, in the mind of anyone who

had the slightest knowledge of the science of graphology, that the

Professor had written an anonymous letter, warning his successor

against thieves. It was inexplicable, but it was certain.



"Why should he do it?" I asked.



"Precisely what I should wish to ask you. If he had any such

misgivings, why could he not come and tell me direct?"



"Will you speak to him about it?"



"There again I am in doubt. He might choose to deny that he

wrote it."



"At any rate," said I, "this warning is meant in a friendly

spirit, and I should certainly act upon it. Are the present

precautions enough to insure you against robbery?"



"I should have thought so. The public are only admitted from

ten till five, and there is a guardian to every two rooms. He

stands at the door between them, and so commands them both."



"But at night?"



"When the public are gone, we at once put up the great iron

shutters, which are absolutely burglar-proof. The watchman is a

capable fellow. He sits in the lodge, but he walks round every

three hours. We keep one electric light burning in each room all

night."



"It is difficult to suggest anything more--short of keeping

your day watches all night."



"We could not afford that."



"At least, I should communicate with the police, and have a

special constable put on outside in Belmore Street," said I. "As

to the letter, if the writer wishes to be anonymous, I think he has

a right to remain so. We must trust to the future to show some

reason for the curious course which he has adopted."



So we dismissed the subject, but all that night after my return

to my chambers I was puzzling my brain as to what possible motive

Professor Andreas could have for writing an anonymous warning

letter to his successor--for that the writing was his was as

certain to me as if I had seen him actually doing it. He foresaw

some danger to the collection. Was it because he foresaw it that

he abandoned his charge of it? But if so, why should he hesitate

to warn Mortimer in his own name? I puzzled and puzzled until at

last I fell into a troubled sleep, which carried me beyond my usual

hour of rising.



I was aroused in a singular and effective method, for about

nine o'clock my friend Mortimer rushed into my room with an

expression of consternation upon his face. He was usually one of

the most tidy men of my acquaintance, but now his collar was undone

at one end, his tie was flying, and his hat at the back of his

head. I read his whole story in his frantic eyes.



"The museum has been robbed!" I cried, springing up in bed.



"I fear so! Those jewels! The jewels of the urim and

thummim!" he gasped, for he was out of breath with running. "I'm

going on to the police-station. Come to the museum as soon as

you can, Jackson! Good-bye!" He rushed distractedly out of the

room, and I heard him clatter down the stairs.



I was not long in following his directions, but I found when I

arrived that he had already returned with a police inspector, and

another elderly gentleman, who proved to be Mr. Purvis, one of the

partners of Morson and Company, the well-known diamond merchants.

As an expert in stones he was always prepared to advise the police.

They were grouped round the case in which the breastplate of the

Jewish priest had been exposed. The plate had been taken out and

laid upon the glass top of the case, and the three heads were bent

over it.



"It is obvious that it has been tampered with," said Mortimer.

"It caught my eye the moment that I passed through the room this

morning. I examined it yesterday evening, so that it is certain

that this has happened during the night."



It was, as he had said, obvious that someone had been at work

upon it. The settings of the uppermost row of four stones--the

carnelian, peridot, emerald, and ruby--were rough and jagged as if

someone had scraped all round them. The stones were in their

places, but the beautiful gold-work which we had admired only a few

days before had been very clumsily pulled about.



"It looks to me," said the police inspector, "as if someone had

been trying to take out the stones."



"My fear is," said Mortimer, "that he not only tried, but

succeeded. I believe these four stones to be skilful imitations

which have been put in the place of the originals."



The same suspicion had evidently been in the mind of the

expert, for he had been carefully examining the four stones with

the aid of a lens. He now submitted them to several tests, and

finally turned cheerfully to Mortimer.



"I congratulate you, sir," said he, heartily. "I will pledge

my reputation that all four of these stones are genuine, and of a

most unusual degree of purity."



The colour began to come back to my poor friend's frightened

face, and he drew a long breath of relief.



"Thank God!" he cried. "Then what in the world did the thief

want?"



"Probably he meant to take the stones, but was interrupted."



"In that case one would expect him to take them out one at a

time, but the setting of each of these has been loosened, and yet

the stones are all here."



"It is certainly most extraordinary," said the inspector. "I

never remember a case like it. Let us see the watchman."



The commissionaire was called--a soldierly, honest-faced man,

who seemed as concerned as Ward Mortimer at the incident.



"No, sir, I never heard a sound," he answered, in reply to the

questions of the inspector. "I made my rounds four times, as

usual, but I saw nothing suspicious. I've been in my position ten

years, but nothing of the kind has ever occurred before."



"No thief could have come through the windows?"



"Impossible, sir."



"Or passed you at the door?"



"No, sir; I never left my post except when I walked my rounds."



"What other openings are there in the museum?"



"There is the door into Mr. Ward Mortimer's private rooms."



"That is locked at night," my friend explained, "and in order

to reach it anyone from the street would have to open the outside

door as well."



"Your servants?"



"Their quarters are entirely separate."



"Well, well," said the inspector, "this is certainly very

obscure. However, there has been no harm done, according to Mr.

Purvis."



"I will swear that those stones are genuine."



"So that the case appears to be merely one of malicious damage.

But none the less, I should be very glad to go carefully round the

premises, and to see if we can find any trace to show us who your

visitor may have been."



His investigation, which lasted all the morning, was careful

and intelligent, but it led in the end to nothing. He pointed out

to us that there were two possible entrances to the museum which we

had not considered. The one was from the cellars by a trap-door

opening in the passage. The other through a skylight from the

lumber-room, overlooking that very chamber to which the intruder

had penetrated. As neither the cellar nor the lumber-room could be

entered unless the thief was already within the locked doors,

the matter was not of any practical importance, and the dust of

cellar and attic assured us that no one had used either one or the

other. Finally, we ended as we began, without the slightest clue

as to how, why, or by whom the setting of these four jewels had

been tampered with.



There remained one course for Mortimer to take, and he took it.

Leaving the police to continue their fruitless researches, he asked

me to accompany him that afternoon in a visit to Professor Andreas.

He took with him the two letters, and it was his intention to

openly tax his predecessor with having written the anonymous

warning, and to ask him to explain the fact that he should have

anticipated so exactly that which had actually occurred. The

Professor was living in a small villa in Upper Norwood, but we were

informed by the servant that he was away from home. Seeing our

disappointment, she asked us if we should like to see Miss Andreas,

and showed us into the modest drawing-room.



I have mentioned incidentally that the Professor's daughter was

a very beautiful girl. She was a blonde, tall and graceful, with

a skin of that delicate tint which the French call "mat," the

colour of old ivory, or of the lighter petals of the sulphur rose.

I was shocked, however, as she entered the room to see how much she

had changed in the last fortnight. Her young face was haggard and

her bright eyes heavy with trouble.



"Father has gone to Scotland," she said. "He seems to be

tired, and has had a good deal to worry him. He only left us

yesterday."



"You look a little tired yourself, Miss Andreas," said my

friend.



"I have been so anxious about father."



"Can you give me his Scotch address?"



"Yes, he is with his brother, the Rev. David Andreas, 1, Arran

Villas, Ardrossan."



Ward Mortimer made a note of the address, and we left without

saying anything as to the object of our visit. We found ourselves

in Belmore Street in the evening in exactly the same position in

which we had been in the morning. Our only clue was the

Professor's letter, and my friend had made up his mind to start for

Ardrossan next day, and to get to the bottom of the anonymous

letter, when a new development came to alter our plans.



Very early on the following morning I was aroused from my sleep

by a tap upon my bedroom door. It was a messenger with a note from

Mortimer.



"Do come round," it said; "the matter is becoming more and more

extraordinary."



When I obeyed his summons I found him pacing excitedly up and

down the central room, while the old soldier who guarded the

premises stood with military stiffness in a corner.



"My dear Jackson," he cried, "I am so delighted that you have

come, for this is a most inexplicable business."



"What has happened, then?"



He waved his hand towards the case which contained the

breastplate.



"Look at it," said he.



I did so, and could not restrain a cry of surprise. The

setting of the middle row of precious stones had been profaned in

the same manner as the upper ones. Of the twelve jewels eight had

been now tampered with in this singular fashion. The setting of

the lower four was neat and smooth. The others jagged and

irregular.



"Have the stones been altered?" I asked.



"No, I am certain that these upper four are the same which the

expert pronounced to be genuine, for I observed yesterday that

little discoloration on the edge of the emerald. Since they have

not extracted the upper stones, there is no reason to think the

lower have been transposed. You say that you heard nothing,

Simpson?"



"No, sir," the commissionaire answered. "But when I made my

round after daylight I had a special look at these stones, and I

saw at once that someone had been meddling with them. Then I

called you, sir, and told you. I was backwards and forwards all

night, and I never saw a soul or heard a sound."



"Come up and have some breakfast with me," said Mortimer, and

he took me into his own chambers.--"Now, what DO you think of

this, Jackson?" he asked.



"It is the most objectless, futile, idiotic business that ever

I heard of. It can only be the work of a monomaniac."



"Can you put forward any theory?"



A curious idea came into my head. "This object is a Jewish

relic of great antiquity and sanctity," said I. "How about the

anti-Semitic movement? Could one conceive that a fanatic of that

way of thinking might desecrate----"



"No, no, no!" cried Mortimer. "That will never do! Such a man

might push his lunacy to the length of destroying a Jewish relic,

but why on earth should he nibble round every stone so carefully

that he can only do four stones in a night? We must have a better

solution than that, and we must find it for ourselves, for I do not

think that our inspector is likely to help us. First of all, what

do you think of Simpson, the porter?"



"Have you any reason to suspect him?"



"Only that he is the one person on the premises."



"But why should he indulge in such wanton destruction? Nothing

has been taken away. He has no motive."



"Mania?"



"No, I will swear to his sanity."



"Have you any other theory?"



"Well, yourself, for example. You are not a somnambulist, by

any chance?"



"Nothing of the sort, I assure you."



"Then I give it up."



"But I don't--and I have a plan by which we will make it all

clear."



"To visit Professor Andreas?"



"No, we shall find our solution nearer than Scotland. I will

tell you what we shall do. You know that skylight which overlooks

the central hall? We will leave the electric lights in the hall,

and we will keep watch in the lumber-room, you and I, and solve the

mystery for ourselves. If our mysterious visitor is doing four

stones at a time, he has four still to do, and there is every

reason to think that he will return tonight and complete the job."



"Excellent!" I cried.



"We will keep our own secret, and say nothing either to the

police or to Simpson. Will you join me?"



"With the utmost pleasure," said I; and so it was agreed.



It was ten o'clock that night when I returned to the Belmore

Street Museum. Mortimer was, as I could see, in a state of

suppressed nervous excitement, but it was still too early to

begin our vigil, so we remained for an hour or so in his chambers,

discussing all the possibilities of the singular business which we

had met to solve. At last the roaring stream of hansom cabs and

the rush of hurrying feet became lower and more intermittent as the

pleasure-seekers passed on their way to their stations or their

homes. It was nearly twelve when Mortimer led the way to the

lumber-room which overlooked the central hall of the museum.



He had visited it during the day, and had spread some sacking

so that we could lie at our ease, and look straight down into the

museum. The skylight was of unfrosted glass, but was so covered

with dust that it would be impossible for anyone looking up from

below to detect that he was overlooked. We cleared a small piece

at each corner, which gave us a complete view of the room beneath

us. In the cold white light of the electric lamps everything stood

out hard and clear, and I could see the smallest detail of the

contents of the various cases.





Such a vigil is an excellent lesson, since one has no choice

but to look hard at those objects which we usually pass with such

half-hearted interest. Through my little peep hole I employed the

hours in studying every specimen, from the huge mummy-case which

leaned against the wall to those very jewels which had brought us

there, gleaming and sparkling in their glass case immediately

beneath us. There was much precious gold-work and many valuable

stones scattered through the numerous cases, but those wonderful

twelve which made up the urim and thummim glowed and burned with a

radiance which far eclipsed the others. I studied in turn the tomb-

pictures of Sicara, the friezes from Karnak, the statues of

Memphis, and the inscriptions of Thebes, but my eyes would always

come back to that wonderful Jewish relic, and my mind to the

singular mystery which surrounded it. I was lost in the thought of

it when my companion suddenly drew his breath sharply in, and

seized my arm in a convulsive grip. At the same instant I saw what

it was which had excited him.



I have said that against the wall--on the right-hand side of

the doorway (the right-hand side as we looked at it, but the left

as one entered)--there stood a large mummy-case. To our

unutterable amazement it was slowly opening. Gradually, gradually

the lid was swinging back, and the black slit which marked the

opening was becoming wider and wider. So gently and carefully was

it done that the movement was almost imperceptible. Then, as we

breathlessly watched it, a white thin hand appeared at the opening,

pushing back the painted lid, then another hand, and finally a

face--a face which was familiar to us both, that of Professor

Andreas. Stealthily he slunk out of the mummy-case, like a fox

stealing from its burrow, his head turning incessantly to left and

to right, stepping, then pausing, then stepping again, the very

image of craft and of caution. Once some sound in the street

struck him motionless, and he stood listening, with his ear turned,

ready to dart back to the shelter behind him. Then he crept

onwards again upon tiptoe, very, very softly and slowly, until he

had reached the case in the centre of the room. There he took a

bunch of keys from his pocket, unlocked the case, took out the

Jewish breastplate, and, laying it upon the glass in front of him,

began to work upon it with some sort of small, glistening tool. He

was so directly underneath us that his bent head covered his work,

but we could guess from the movement of his hand that he was

engaged in finishing the strange disfigurement which he had begun.



I could realize from the heavy breathing of my companion, and

the twitchings of the hand which still clutched my wrist, the

furious indignation which filled his heart as he saw this vandalism

in the quarter of all others where he could least have expected it.

He, the very man who a fortnight before had reverently bent over

this unique relic, and who had impressed its antiquity and its

sanctity upon us, was now engaged in this outrageous profanation.

It was impossible, unthinkable--and yet there, in the white glare

of the electric light beneath us, was that dark figure with the

bent grey head, and the twitching elbow. What inhuman hypocrisy,

what hateful depth of malice against his successor must underlie

these sinister nocturnal labours. It was painful to think of and

dreadful to watch. Even I, who had none of the acute feelings of

a virtuoso, could not bear to look on and see this deliberate

mutilation of so ancient a relic. It was a relief to me when my

companion tugged at my sleeve as a signal that I was to follow him

as he softly crept out of the room. It was not until we were

within his own quarters that he opened his lips, and then I saw by

his agitated face how deep was his consternation.



"The abominable Goth!" he cried. "Could you have believed it?"



"It is amazing."



"He is a villain or a lunatic--one or the other. We shall very

soon see which. Come with me, Jackson, and we shall get to the

bottom of this black business."



A door opened out of the passage which was the private entrance

from his rooms into the museum. This he opened softly with his

key, having first kicked off his shoes, an example which I

followed. We crept together through room after room, until the

large hall lay before us, with that dark figure still stooping and

working at the central case. With an advance as cautious as his

own we closed in upon him, but softly as we went we could not take

him entirely unawares. We were still a dozen yards from him when

he looked round with a start, and uttering a husky cry of terror,

ran frantically down the museum.



"Simpson! Simpson!" roared Mortimer, and far away down the

vista of electric lighted doors we saw the stiff figure of the old

soldier suddenly appear. Professor Andreas saw him also, and

stopped running, with a gesture of despair. At the same instant we

each laid a hand upon his shoulder.



"Yes, yes, gentlemen," he panted, "I will come with you. To

your room, Mr. Ward Mortimer, if you please! I feel that I owe you

an explanation."



My companion's indignation was so great that I could see that

he dared not trust himself to reply. We walked on each side of the

old Professor, the astonished commissionaire bringing up the rear.

When we reached the violated case, Mortimer stopped and examined

the breastplate. Already one of the stones of the lower row had

had its setting turned back in the same manner as the others. My

friend held it up and glanced furiously at his prisoner.



"How could you!" he cried. "How could you!"



"It is horrible--horrible!" said the Professor. "I don't

wonder at your feelings. Take me to your room."



"But this shall not be left exposed!" cried Mortimer. He

picked the breastplate up and carried it tenderly in his hand,

while I walked beside the Professor, like a policeman with a

malefactor. We passed into Mortimer's chambers, leaving the amazed

old soldier to understand matters as best he could. The Professor

sat down in Mortimer's arm-chair, and turned so ghastly a colour

that for the instant all our resentment was changed to concern. A

stiff glass of brandy brought the life back to him once more.



"There, I am better now!" said he. "These last few days have

been too much for me. I am convinced that I could not stand it any

longer. It is a nightmare--a horrible nightmare--that I should be

arrested as a burglar in what has been for so long my own museum.

And yet I cannot blame you. You could not have done otherwise. My

hope always was that I should get it all over before I was

detected. This would have been my last night's work."



"How did you get in?" asked Mortimer.



"By taking a very great liberty with your private door. But

the object justified it. The object justified everything. You

will not be angry when you know everything--at least, you will not

be angry with me. I had a key to your side door and also to the

museum door. I did not give them up when I left. And so you see

it was not difficult for me to let myself into the museum. I used

to come in early before the crowd had cleared from the street.

Then I hid myself in the mummy-case, and took refuge there whenever

Simpson came round. I could always hear him coming. I used to

leave in the same way as I came."



"You ran a risk."



"I had to."



"But why? What on earth was your object--YOU to do a thing

like that!" Mortimer pointed reproachfully at the plate which lay

before him on the table.



"I could devise no other means. I thought and thought, but

there was no alternate except a hideous public scandal, and a

private sorrow which would have clouded our lives. I acted for the

best, incredible as it may seem to you, and I only ask your

attention to enable me to prove it."



"I will hear what you have to say before I take any further

steps," said Mortimer, grimly.



"I am determined to hold back nothing, and to take you both

completely into my confidence. I will leave it to your own

generosity how far you will use the facts with which I supply you."



"We have the essential facts already."



"And yet you understand nothing. Let me go back to what passed

a few weeks ago, and I will make it all clear to you. Believe me

that what I say is the absolute and exact truth.



"You have met the person who calls himself Captain Wilson. I

say `calls himself' because I have reason now to believe that it is

not his correct name. It would take me too long if I were to

describe all the means by which he obtained an introduction to me

and ingratiated himself into my friendship and the affection of my

daughter. He brought letters from foreign colleagues which

compelled me to show him some attention. And then, by his own

attainments, which are considerable, he succeeded in making himself

a very welcome visitor at my rooms. When I learned that my

daughter's affections had been gained by him, I may have thought it

premature, but I certainly was not surprised, for he had a charm of

manner and of conversation which would have made him conspicuous in

any society.



"He was much interested in Oriental antiquities, and his

knowledge of the subject justified his interest. Often when he

spent the evening with us he would ask permission to go down into

the museum and have an opportunity of privately inspecting the

various specimens. You can imagine that I, as an enthusiast, was

in sympathy with such a request, and that I felt no surprise at the

constancy of his visits. After his actual engagement to Elise,

there was hardly an evening which he did not pass with us, and an

hour or two were generally devoted to the museum. He had the free

run of the place, and when I have been away for the evening I had

no objection to his doing whatever he wished here. This state of

things was only terminated by the fact of my resignation of my

official duties and my retirement to Norwood, where I hoped to have

the leisure to write a considerable work which I had planned.



"It was immediately after this--within a week or so--that I

first realized the true nature and character of the man whom I had

so imprudently introduced into my family. The discovery came to me

through letters from my friends abroad, which showed me that

his introductions to me had been forgeries. Aghast at the

revelation, I asked myself what motive this man could originally

have had in practising this elaborate deception upon me. I was too

poor a man for any fortune-hunter to have marked me down. Why,

then, had he come? I remembered that some of the most precious

gems in Europe had been under my charge, and I remembered also the

ingenious excuses by which this man had made himself familiar with

the cases in which they were kept. He was a rascal who was

planning some gigantic robbery. How could I, without striking my

own daughter, who was infatuated about him, prevent him from

carrying out any plan which he might have formed? My device was a

clumsy one, and yet I could think of nothing more effective. If I

had written a letter under my own name, you would naturally have

turned to me for details which I did not wish to give. I resorted

to an anonymous letter, begging you to be upon your guard.



"I may tell you that my change from Belmore Street to Norwood

had not affected the visits of this man, who had, I believe, a real

and overpowering affection for my daughter. As to her, I could not

have believed that any woman could be so completely under the

influence of a man as she was. His stronger nature seemed to

entirely dominate her. I had not realized how far this was the

case, or the extent of the confidence which existed between them,

until that very evening when his true character for the first time

was made clear to me. I had given orders that when he called he

should be shown into my study instead of to the drawing-room.

There I told him bluntly that I knew all about him, that I had

taken steps to defeat his designs, and that neither I nor my

daughter desired ever to see him again. I added that I thanked God

that I had found him out before he had time to harm those precious

objects which it had been the work of my life-time to protect.



"He was certainly a man of iron nerve. He took my remarks

without a sign either of surprise or of defiance, but listened

gravely and attentively until I had finished. Then he walked

across the room without a word and struck the bell.



"`Ask Miss Andreas to be so kind as to step this way,' said he

to the servant.



"My daughter entered, and the man closed the door behind her.

Then he took her hand in his.



"`Elise,' said he, `your father has just discovered that I am

a villain. He knows now what you knew before.'



"She stood in silence, listening.



"`He says that we are to part for ever,' said he.



"She did not withdraw her hand.



"`Will you be true to me, or will you remove the last good

influence which is ever likely to come into my life?'



"`John,' she cried, passionately. `I will never abandon you!

Never, never, not if the whole world were against you.'



"In vain I argued and pleaded with her. It was absolutely

useless. Her whole life was bound up in this man before me. My

daughter, gentlemen, is all that I have left to love, and it filled

me with agony when I saw how powerless I was to save her from her

ruin. My helplessness seemed to touch this man who was the cause

of my trouble.



"`It may not be as bad as you think, sir,' said he, in his

quiet, inflexible way. `I love Elise with a love which is strong

enough to rescue even one who has such a record as I have. It was

but yesterday that I promised her that never again in my whole life

would I do a thing of which she should be ashamed. I have made up

my mind to it, and never yet did I make up my mind to a thing which

I did not do.'



"He spoke with an air which carried conviction with it. As he

concluded he put his hand into his pocket and he drew out a small

cardboard box.



"`I am about to give you a proof of my determination,' said he.

`This, Elise, shall be the first-fruits of your redeeming influence

over me. You are right, sir, in thinking that I had designs upon

the jewels in your possession. Such ventures have had a charm for

me, which depended as much upon the risk run as upon the value of

the prize. Those famous and antique stones of the Jewish priest

were a challenge to my daring and my ingenuity. I determined to

get them.'



"`I guessed as much.'



"`There was only one thing that you did not guess.'



"`And what is that?'



"`That I got them. They are in this box.'



"He opened the box, and tilted out the contents upon the corner

of my desk. My hair rose and my flesh grew cold as I looked.

There were twelve magnificent square stones engraved with mystical

characters. There could be no doubt that they were the jewels of

the urim and thummim.



"`Good God!' I cried. `How have you escaped discovery?'



"`By the substitution of twelve others, made especially to my

order, in which the originals are so carefully imitated that I defy

the eye to detect the difference.'



"`Then the present stones are false?' I cried.



"`They have been for some weeks.'



"We all stood in silence, my daughter white with emotion, but

still holding this man by the hand.



"`You see what I am capable of, Elise,' said he.



"`I see that you are capable of repentance and restitution,'

she answered.



"`Yes, thanks to your influence! I leave the stones in your

hands, sir. Do what you like about it. But remember that whatever

you do against me, is done against the future husband of your only

daughter. You will hear from me soon again, Elise. It is the last

time that I will ever cause pain to your tender heart,' and with

these words he left both the room and the house.



"My position was a dreadful one. Here I was with these

precious relics in my possession, and how could I return them

without a scandal and an exposure? I knew the depth of my

daughter's nature too well to suppose that I would ever be able to

detach her from this man now that she had entirely given him her

heart. I was not even sure how far it was right to detach her if

she had such an ameliorating influence over him. How could I

expose him without injuring her--and how far was I justified in

exposing him when he had voluntarily put himself into my power? I

thought and thought until at last I formed a resolution which may

seem to you to be a foolish one, and yet, if I had to do it again,

I believe it would be the best course open to me.



"My idea was to return the stones without anyone being the

wiser. With my keys I could get into the museum at any time, and

I was confident that I could avoid Simpson, whose hours and methods

were familiar to me. I determined to take no one into my

confidence--not even my daughter--whom I told that I was about to

visit my brother in Scotland. I wanted a free hand for a few

nights, without inquiry as to my comings and goings. To this end

I took a room in Harding Street that very night, with an intimation

that I was a Pressman, and that I should keep very late hours.



"That night I made my way into the museum, and I replaced four

of the stones. It was hard work, and took me all night. When

Simpson came round I always heard his footsteps, and concealed

myself in the mummy-case. I had some knowledge of gold-work, but

was far less skilful than the thief had been. He had replaced the

setting so exactly that I defy anyone to see the difference. My

work was rude and clumsy. However, I hoped that the plate might

not be carefully examined, or the roughness of the setting

observed, until my task was done. Next night I replaced four more

stones. And tonight I should have finished my task had it not been

for the unfortunate circumstance which has caused me to reveal so

much which I should have wished to keep concealed. I appeal to

you, gentlemen, to your sense of honour and of compassion, whether

what I have told you should go any farther or not. My own

happiness, my daughter's future, the hopes of this man's

regeneration, all depend upon your decision.



"Which is," said my friend, "that all is well that ends well

and that the whole matter ends here and at once. Tomorrow the

loose settings shall be tightened by an expert goldsmith, and so

passes the greatest danger to which, since the destruction of the

Temple, the urim and thummim has been exposed. Here is my hand,

Professor Andreas, and I can only hope that under such difficult

circumstances I should have carried myself as unselfishly and as well."



Just one footnote to this narrative. Within a month Elise

Andreas was married to a man whose name, had I the indiscretion to

mention it, would appeal to my readers as one who is now widely and

deservedly honoured. But if the truth were known that honour is

due not to him, but to the gentle girl who plucked him back when he

had gone so far down that dark road along which few return.





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