Chapter VII. The Traveller's Loss

by Bram Stoker

　　That night everything went well. Knowing that Miss Trelawny herselfwas not on guard, Doctor Winchester and I doubled our vigilance. TheNurses and Mrs. Grant kept watch, and the Detectives made their visiteach quarter of an hour. All night the patient remained in his trance.He looked healthy, and his chest rose and fell with the easy breathingof a child. But he never stirred; only for his breathing he might havebeen of marble. Doctor Winchester and I wore our respirators, andirksome they were on that intolerably hot night. Between midnight andthree o'clock I felt anxious, and had once more that creepy feeling towhich these last few nights had accustomed me; but the grey of thedawn, stealing round the edges of the blinds, came with inexpressiblerelief. In the cool, hopeful darkness, with the east quickening intopallor, I could breathe freely; the same relief, followed byrestfulness, went through the household. During the hot night my ears,strained to every sound, had been almost painfully troubled; as thoughmy brain or sensoria were in anxious touch with them. Every breath ofthe Nurse or the rustle of her dress; every soft pat of slippered feet,as the Policeman went his rounds; every moment of watching life, seemedto be a new impetus to guardianship. Something of the same feeling musthave been abroad in the house; now and again I could hear upstairs thesound of restless feet, and more than once downstairs the opening of awindow. With the coming of the dawn, however, all this ceased, and thewhole household seemed to rest. Doctor Winchester went home when sisterDoris came to relieve Mrs. Grant. He was, I think, a littledisappointed or chagrined that nothing of an exceptional nature hadhappened during his long night vigil.'At eight o'clock Miss Trelawny joined us, and I was amazed as wellas delighted to see how much good her night's sleep had done her. Shewas fairly radiant; just as I had seen her at our first meeting and atthe picnic. There was even a suggestion of colour in her cheeks, which,however, looked startlingly white in contrast with her black brows andscarlet lips. With her restored strength, there seemed to have come atenderness even exceeding that which she had at first shown to her sickfather. I could not but be moved by the loving touches as she fixed hispillows and brushed the hair from his forehead.I was wearied out myself with my long spell of watching; and nowthat she was on guard I started off to bed, blinking my tired eyes inthe full light and feeling the weariness of a sleepless night on me allat once.I had a good sleep, and after lunch I was about to start out to walkto Jermyn Street, when I noticed an importunate man at the hall door.The servant in charge was the one called Morris, formerly the 'oddman,' but since the exodus of the servants promoted to be butler protern. The stranger was speaking rather loudly, so that there was nodifficulty in understanding his grievance. The servant man wasrespectful in both words and demeanour; but he stood squarely in frontof the great double door, so that the other could not enter. The firstwords which I heard from the visitor sufficiently explained thesituation:'That's all very well, but I tell you I must see Mr. Trelawny! Whatis the use of your saying I can't, when I tell you I must. You put meoff, and off, and off. I came here at nine; you said then that he wasnot up, and that as he was not well he could not be disturbed. I cameat twelve; and you told me again he was not up. I asked then to see anyof his household; you told me that Miss Trelawny was not up. Now I comeagain at three, and you tell me he is still in bed, and is not awakeyet. Where is Miss Trelawny? "She is occupied and must not bedisturbed!" Well, she must be disturbed! Or someone must. I am hereabout Mr. Trelawny's special business; and I have come from a placewhere servants always begin by saying No. "No" isn't good enough for methis time! I've had three years of it, waiting outside doors and tents,when it took longer to get in than it did into the tombs; and then youwould think, too, the men inside were as dead as the mummies. I've hadabout enough of it, I tell- you. And when I come home, and find thedoor of the man I've been working for barred, in just the same way andwith the same old answers, it stirs me up the wrong way. Did Mr.Trelawny leave orders that he would not see me when I should come?'He paused and excitedly mopped his forehead. The servant answeredvery respectfully:'I am very sorry, sir, if in doing my duty I have given any offence.But I have my orders, and must obey them. If you would like to leaveany message, I will give it to Miss Trelawny; and if you will leaveyour address, she can communicate with you if she wishes.' The- answercame in such a way that it was easy to see that the speaker was akind-hearted man, and a just one. 'My good fellow, I have no fault to find with you personally; and Iam sorry if I have hurt your feelings. I must be just, even if I amangry. But it is enough to anger any man to find himself in theposition I am. Time is pressing. There is not an hour--not a minute--tolose! And yet here I am, kicking my heels for six hours; knowing allthe time that your master will be a hundred times angrier than I am,when he hears how the time has been fooled away. He would rather bewaked out of a thousand sleeps than not see me just at present--andbefore it is too late. My God? it's simply dreadful, after all I'vegone through, to have my work spoiled at the last and be foiled in thevery doorway by a stupid flunky! Is there no one with sense in thehouse; or with authority, even if he hasn't got sense? I could mightysoon convince him that your master must be awakened; even if he sleepslike the Seven Sleepers--'There was no mistaking the man's sincerity, or the urgency andimportance of his business; from his point of view at any rate. Istepped forward.'Morris,' I said, 'you had better tell Miss Trelawny that thisgentleman wants to see her particularly. If she is busy, askMrs. Grant to tell her!'"Very good, sir!' he answered in a tone of relief, and hurried away.I took the stranger into the little boudoir across the hall. As wewent he asked me:'Are you the secretary?''No! I am a friend of Miss Trelawny's. My name is Ross.''Thank you very much, Mr. Ross, for your kindness!' he said. 'Myname is Corbeck. I would give you my card; but they don't use cardswhere I've come from. And if I had had any, I suppose they, too, wouldhave gone last night--'He stopped suddenly, as though conscious that he had said too much.We both remained silent; as we waited I took stock of him. A short,sturdy man, brown as a coffee-berry, possibly inclined to be fat, butnow lean exceedingly. The deep wrinkles in his face and neck were notmerely from time and exposure; there were those unmistakable signswhere flesh or fat has fallen away, and the skin has become loose. Theneck was simply an intricate surface of seams and wrinkles, and wassun-scarred with the burning of the Desert. The Far East, the TropicSeasons, and the Desert--each can have its colour mark. But all threeare quite different; and an eye which had once known, can thencefortheasily distinguish them. The dusky pallor of one; the fierce red-brownof the other; and of the third, the dark, ingrained burning, as thoughit had become a permanent colour. Mr. Corbeck had a big head, massiveand full; with shaggy, dark red-brown hair, but bald on the temples.His forehead was a fine one, high and broad; with, to use the terms ofphysiognomy, the frontal sinus boldly marked. The squareness of itshowed 'ratiocination'; and the fullness under the eyes 'language'. Hehad the short, broad nose that marks energy; the square chin--markeddespite a thick, unkempt beard--and massive jaw that showed greatresolution.'No bad man for the desert!' I thought as I looked.Miss Trelawny came very quickly. When Mr. Corbeck saw her, he seemedsomewhat surprised. But his annoyance and excitement had notdisappeared; quite enough remained to cover up any such secondary andpurely exoteric feeling as surprise. But as she spoke he never took hiseyes off her; and I made a mental note that I would find some earlyopportunity of investigating the cause of his surprise. She began withan apology which quite smoothed down his ruffled feelings:'Of course, had my Father been well you would not have been keptwaiting. Indeed, had not I been on duty in the sick-room when youcalled the first time, I should have seen you at once. Now will youkindly tell me what is the matter which so presses?' He looked at meand hesitated. She spoke at once:'You may say before Mr. Ross anything which you can tell me. He hasmy fullest confidence, and is helping me in my trouble. I do not thinkyou quite understand how serious my Father's condition is. For threedays he has not waked, or given any sign of consciousness; and I am interrible trouble about him. Unhappily I am in great ignorance of myFather and his life. I only came to live with him a year ago; and Iknow nothing whatever of his affairs. I do not even know who you are,or in what way your business is associated with him.' She said thiswith a little deprecating smile, all conventional and altogethergraceful; as though to express in the most genuine way her absurdignorance.He looked steadily at her for perhaps a quarter of a minute; then hespoke, beginning at once as though his mind were made up and hisconfidence established;'My name is Eugene Corbeck. I am a Master of Arts and Doctor of Lawsand Master of Surgery of Cambridge; Doctor of Letters of Oxford; Doctorof Science and Doctor of Languages of London University; Doctor ofPhilosophy of Berlin; Doctor of Oriental Languages of Paris. I havesome other degrees, honorary and otherwise, but I need not trouble youwith them. Those I have named will show you that I am sufficientlyfeathered with diplomas to fly into even a sick-room. Early inlife--fortunately for my interests and pleasures, but unfortunately formy pocket--I fell in with Egyptology. I must have been bitten by somepowerful scarab, for I took it bad. I went out tomb-hunting; andmanaged to get a living of a sort, and to learn some things that youcan't get out of books. I was in pretty low water when I met yourFather, who was doing some explorations on his own account; and sincethen I haven't found that I have many unsatisfied wants. He is a realpatron of the arts; no mad Egyptologist can ever hope for a betterchief!'He spoke with feeling; and I was glad to see that Miss Trelawnycoloured -up with pleasure at the praise of her father. I could nothelp noticing, however, that Mr. Corbeck was, in a measure, speaking asif against time. I took it that he wished, while speaking, to study hisground; to see how far he would be justified in making confidence withthe two strangers before him. As he went on, I could see that hisconfidence kept increasing. When I thought of it afterward, andremembered what he had said, I realized that the mea sure of theinformation which he gave us marked his growing trust. 'I have been several times out on expeditions in Egypt for yourFather; and I have always found it a delight to work for him. Many ofhis treasures--and he has some rare ones, I tell you--he has procuredthrough me, either by my exploration or by purchase--or--or--otherwise.Your Father, Miss Trelawny, has a rare knowledge. He sometimes makes uphis mind that he wants to find a particular thing, of whoseexistence--if it still exists--he has become aware; and he will followit all over the world till he gets it. I've been on just such a chasenow.'He stopped suddenly, as suddenly as though his mouth had been shutby the jerk of a string.-We waited; when he went on he spoke with acaution that was new to him, as though he wished to forestall ourasking any questions:'I am not at liberty to mention anything of my mission; where it wasto, what it was for, or anything at all about it. Such matters are inconfidence between Mr. Trelawny and myself; I am pledged to absolutesecrecy.'He paused, and an embarrassed look crept over his face. Suddenly hesaid:'You are sure, Miss Trelawny, your Father is not well enough to seeme today?'A look of wonderment was on her face in turn. But it cleared atonce;--she stood up, saying in a tone in which dignity and graciousnesswere blended:'Come and see for yourself!' She moved toward her father's room; hefollowed, and I brought up the rear.Mr. Corbeck entered the sick-room as though he knew it. There is anunconscious attitude or bearing to persons in new surroundings whichthere is no mistaking. Even in his anxiety to see his powerful friend,he glanced for a moment round the room, as at a familiar place. Thenall his attention became fixed on the bed. I watched him narrowly, forsomehow I felt that on this man depended much of our enlightenmentregarding the strange matter in which we were involved.It was not that I doubted him. The man was of transparent honesty;it was this very quality which we had to dread. He was of thatcourageous, fixed trueness to his undertaking that if he should deem ithis duty to guard a secret he would do it to the last. The case beforeus was, at least, an unusual one; and it would, consequently, requiremore liberal recognition of bounds of the duty of secrecy than wouldhold under ordinary conditions. To us, ignorance was helplessness. Ifwe could learn anything of the past we might at least form some idea ofthe conditions antecedent to the attack; and might, so, achieve somemeans of helping the patient to recovery. There were curios which mightbe removed.... My thoughts were beginning to whirl once again; I pulledmyself up sharply and watched. There was a look of infinite pity onthe sun-stained, rugged face as he gazed at his friend, lying sohelpless. The sternness of Mr. Trelawny's face had not relaxed insleep; but somehow it made the helplessness more marked. It would nothave troubled one to see a weak or an ordinary face under suchconditions; but this purposeful, masterful man, lying before us wrappedin impenetrable sleep, had all the pathos of a great ruin. The sightwas, not a new one to us; but I could see that Miss Trelawny, likemyself, was moved afresh by it in the presence of the stranger. Mr.Corbeck's face grew stern. All the pity died away; and in its steadcame a grim, hard look which boded ill for whoever had been the causeof this mighty downfall. This look in turn gave place to one ofdecision; the volcanic energy of the man was working to some definitepurpose. He glanced around at us; and as his eyes lighted on NurseKennedy his eyebrows went up a trifle. She noted the look, and glancedinterrogatively at Miss Trelawny, who flashed back a reply with aglance. She went quietly from the room, closing the door behind her.Mr. Corbeck looked first at me, with a strong man's natural impulse tolearn from a man rather than a woman; then at Miss Trelawny, with aremembrance of the duty of courtesy, and said:'Tell me all about it. How it began and when!' Miss Trelawny lookedat me appealingly; and forthwith I told him all that I knew. He seemedto make no motion during the whole time; but insensibly the bronze facebecame steel. When, at the end, I told him of Mr. Marvin's visit and ofthe Power of Attorney, his look began to brighten. And when, seeing hisinterest in the matter, I went more into detail as to its terms, hespoke:'Good? Now I know where my duty lies!'With a sinking heart I heard him. Such a phrase, coming at such atime, seemed to close the door to my hopes of enlightenment.'What do you mean?' I asked, feeling that my question was a feebleone.His answer emphasized my fears:'Trelawny knows what he is doing. He had some definite purpose inall that he did; and we must not thwart him. He evidently expectedsomething to happen, and guarded himself at all points.''Not at all points!' I said impulsively. 'There must have been aweak spot somewhere, or he wouldn't be lying there like that!' Somehowhis impassiveness surprised me. I had expected that he would find avalid argument in my phrase; but it did not move him, at least not inthe way I thought. Something like a smile flickered over his swarthyface 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 questionerwas 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 akinto anguish. The steely look came over the swarthy face again: but therewas tenderness and courtesy in both voice and manner as he replied:'Believe me, I would do anything I honestly could to relieve youranxiety. But in this I have a higher duty.''What duty?''Silence!' As he spoke the word, the strong mouth closed like asteel trap.We all remained silent for a few minutes. In the intensity of ourthinking, the silence became a positive thing; the small sounds of lifewithin and without the house seemed intrusive. The first to break itwas Miss Trelawny. I had seen an idea--a hope--flash in her eyes; butshe steadied herself before speaking:'What was the urgent subject on which you wanted to see me, knowingthat my Father was--not available?' The pause showed her mastery of herthoughts.The instantaneous change in Mr. Corbeck was almost ludicrous. Hisstart of surprise, coming close upon his ironclad impassiveness, waslike a pantomimic change. But all idea of comedy was swept away by thetragic earnestness with which he remembered his original purpose.'My God!' he said, as he raised his hand from the chair back onwhich it rested, and beat it down with a violence which would in itselfhave arrested attention. His brows corrugated as he went on: 'Iquite forgot! What a loss! Now of all times! Just at the moment ofsuccess! He lying there helpless, and my tongue tied! Not able to raisehand 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 suchanxiety and trouble already! It alarms me afresh to hear you speak so!Won't you tell me something to allay this terrible anxiety anduncertainty?'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.' Hepointed to the bed. 'And yet--and yet I came here for his advice, hisCounsel, his assistance. And he lies there helpless.... And time isflying by us! It may soon be too late!''What is it? What is it?' broke in Miss Trelawny in a sort ofpassion of anxiety, her face drawn with pain, 'Oh, speak! Saysomething! 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. Mymission, in which I have spent three years, was successful. Idiscovered all that I sought--and more; and brought them home with mesafely. Treasures, priceless in themselves, but doubly precious to himby whose wishes and instructions I sought them. I arrived in Londononly last night; and when I woke this morning my precious charge wasstolen. Stolen in some mysterious way. Not a soul in London knew that Iwas arriving. No one but myself knew what war in the shabby portmanteauthat I carried. My room had but one door, and that I locked and bolted.The room was high in the house, five storeys up, so that no entrancecould have been obtained-by the window. Indeed, I had closed the windowmyself and shut the hasp, for I wished to be secure in every way. Thismorning the hasp was untouched... And yet-my portmanteau was empty. Thelamps were gone!... There! It is out. I went to Egypt to search for aset of antique lamps which Mr. Trelawny wished to trace. Withincredible labour, and through many dangers, I followed them. I broughtthem safe home... And now!' He turned away much moved. Even his ironnature was breaking down under the sense of loss.Miss Trelawny stepped over and laid her hand on his arm. I looked ather in amazement. All the passion and pain which had so moved herseemed to have taken the form of resolution. Her form was erect, hereyes 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 apparentthat she was a marvellously strong woman, and that her strength couldanswer when called upon.'We must act at once! My Father's wishes must be carried out, if itis possible to us. Mr. Ross, you are a lawyer. We have actually in thehouse 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 newlife from her enthusiasm.'Good! You are your Father's daughter!' was all he said. But hisadmiration for her energy was manifested by the impulsive way in whichhe took her hand. I moved over to the door. I was going to bringSergeant Daw: and from her look of approval, I knew that Margaret--MissTrelawny-- understood. I was at the door when Mr. Corbeck called meback.'One moment,' he said, 'before we bring a stranger on the scene. Itmust be borne in mind that he is not to know what you know now, thatthe lamps were the objects of a prolonged and difficult and dangeroussearch. All I can tell him, all that he must know from any source, isthat some of my property has been stolen. I must describe some of thelamps, especially one, for it is of gold: and my fear is lest thethief, ignorant of its historic worth, may, in order to cover up hiscrime, have it melted. I would willingly pay ten, twenty, a hundred, athousand times its intrinsic value rather than have it destroyed. Ishall tell him only what is necessary. So, please, let me answer anyquestions he may ask; unless, of course, I ask you or refer to eitherof you for the answer.' We both nodded acquiescence. Then a thoughtstruck me and I said:'By the way, if it be necessary to keep this matter quiet it will bebetter to have it if possible a private job for the Detective. If oncea thing gets to Scotland Yard it is out of our power to keep itquiet, and further secrecy may be impossible. I shall sound SergeantDaw before he comes up. If I say nothing, it will mean that he acceptsthe task and will deal with it privately.' Mr. Corbeck answered at once:'Secrecy is everything. The one thing I dread is that the lamps, orsome of them, may be destroyed at once.' To my' intense astonishmentMiss Trelawny spoke out at once, but quietly in a decided voice:'They will not be destroyed; nor any of them!' Mr. Corbeck actuallysmiled in amazement.'How on earth do you know?' he asked. Her answer was still moreincomprehensible:'I don't know how I know it; but know it I do. I feel it all throughme; as though it were a conviction which has been with me all my life!'