Produced by Martin Robb
COLONEL THORNDYKE'S SECRET
By G. A. Henty.
PUBLISHER'S INTRODUCTION.
“Colonel Thorndyke's Secret” is a story so far out of the ordinary that
it will not be inappropriate to speak a few words regarding the tale and
its unusually successful author, Mr. George Alfred Henty.
The plot of the story hinges upon the possession of a valuable bracelet,
of diamonds, stolen from a Hindoo idol by a British soldier in India.
This bracelet falls into the possession of Colonel Thorndyke, who,
shortly afterward, is sent home to England because of his wounds. The
secret concerning the bracelet is told to the Colonel's brother, a
country squire, and the treasure is left to younger members of the
Thorndyke family.
As is well known today, the theft of anything from a Hindoo temple is
considered an extraordinary crime in India, and when this occurs it
becomes a religious duty for one or more persons to hunt down the thief
and bring back the property taken from the heathen god.
The members of the Thorndyke family soon learn that they are being
watched. But this is at a time when highwaymen are numerous in this part
of England, and they cannot determine whether the work is that of the
“knights of the roads” or that of the Lascars after the famous bracelet.
A mysterious death follows, and the younger members of the family are
almost stunned, not knowing what will happen next. They would give the
bracelet up, but do not know where it is hidden, the secret having been
in the sole possession of the member now dead. In this quandary the
young hero of the tale rises to the occasion and determines to join the
London police force and become a detective, with the hope of ultimately
clearing up the mystery. Thrilling adventures of a most unusual kind
follow, and at last something of the mystery is explained. The bracelet
and other jewelry are unearthed, and it is decided to take the bracelet
to Amsterdam and offer it to the diamond cutters at that place. But
the carrying of the bracelet is both difficult and dangerous. How the
mission is brought to a conclusion, and what part the Lascars played in
the final adventure, will be found in the pages that follow.
It can truthfully be said that Mr. Henty is easily the most popular of
all English story tellers, his books for boys enjoying a circulation of
from a hundred and fifty thousand to two hundred and fifty thousand per
year. His tales are all clean, and although some are full of exciting
situations and thrilling to the last degree, they are of a high moral
tone, while the English employed is of the best.
The present story is of peculiar value as giving a good insight into
country and town life in England over a hundred years ago, when railways
and telegraph lines were unknown and when the “knights of the road” were
apt to hold up any stagecoach that happened to come along. It also gives
a truthful picture of the dark and underhanded work accomplished at
times by those of East Indian blood, especially when on what they
consider a religious mission.
CHAPTER I.
Squire Thorndyke, of the Manor House of Crawley, was, on the 1st of
September; 1782, walking up and down the little terrace in front of the
quaint old house in an unusually disturbed mood. He was a man of forty
three or four, stoutly and strongly built, and inclined to be portly.
Save the loss of his wife four years before, there had been but little
to ruffle the easy tenor of his life. A younger son, he had, at his
mother's death, when he was three and twenty, come in for the small
estate at Crawley, which had been her jointure.
For ten years he had led a life resembling that of most of his
neighbors; he had hunted and shot, been a regular attendant at any
main of cocks that was fought within fifteen miles of Crawley, had
occasionally been up to London for a week or two to see the gay doings
there. Of an evening he had generally gone down to the inn, where he
talked over, with two or three of his own condition and a few of the
better class of farmers, the news of the day, the war with the French,
the troubles in Scotland, the alarming march of the Young Pretender, and
his defeat at Culloden--with no very keen interest in the result, for
the Southern gentry and yeomen, unlike those in the North, had no strong
leanings either way. They had a dull dislike for Hanoverian George, but
no great love for the exiled Stuarts, whose patron, the King of France,
was an enemy of England.
More often, however, their thoughts turned upon local topics--the
holding up of the coach of Sir James Harris or Squire Hamilton by
highwaymen; the affray between the French smugglers and the Revenue men
near Selsea Bill or Shoreham; the delinquencies of the poaching gangs;
the heaviness of the taxes, and the price of corn.
At the age of thirty-three Squire Thorndyke married the daughter of
a neighboring landowner; a son was born and three years later Mrs.
Thorndyke died. Since then the Squire had led a more retired life; he
still went down to smoke his pipe at the inn parlor, but he gave up his
visits to town; and cock fights, and even bull baiting, were no longer
attractions to him. He was known as a good landlord to the three or four
farmers who held land under him; was respected and liked in the village,
where he was always ready to assist in cases of real distress; was of an
easygoing disposition and on good terms with all his neighbors.
But today he was unusually disturbed in his mind. A messenger had ridden
up two hours before with a letter from London. It was as follows:
“MY DEAR BROTHER JOHN:
“You will be surprised indeed at this letter from me, who, doubtless,
you suppose to be fighting in India. I have done with fighting, and
am nearly done with life. I was shot in the battle of Buxar, eighteen
months ago. For a time the surgeons thought that it was going to be
fatal; then I rallied, and for some months it seemed that, in spite of
the ball that they were never able to find, I was going to get over it,
and should be fit for service again. Then I got worse; first it was
a cough, then the blood used to come up, and they said that the only
chance for me was to come home. I did not believe it would be of any
use, but I thought that I would rather die at home than in India, so
home I came, and have now been a week in London.
“I thought at first of going down to my place at Reigate, and having
you and your boy there with me; but as I have certainly not many weeks,
perhaps not many days, to live, I thought I would come down to you; so
the day after you receive this letter I shall be with you. I shall not
bring my little girl down; I have left her in good hands, and I shall
only bring with me my Hindoo servant. He will give you no trouble--a mat
to sleep on, and a little rice to eat, will satisfy his wants; and he
will take the trouble of me a good deal off your hands. He was a Sepoy
in my regiment, and has always evinced the greatest devotion for me.
More than once in battle he has saved my life, and has, for the last
three years, been my servant, and has nursed me since I have been ill
as tenderly as a woman could have done. As I shall have time to tell you
everything when I arrive, I will say no more now.”
The news had much affected John Thorndyke. His brother George was five
years his senior, and had gone out as a cadet in the company's service
when John was but thirteen, and this was his first home coming. Had it
not been for a portrait that had been taken of him in his uniform just
before he sailed, John would have had but little remembrance of him. In
that he was represented as a thin, spare youth, with an expression of
quiet determination in his face. From his father John had, of course,
heard much about him.
“Nothing would satisfy him but to go out to India, John. There was, of
course, no occasion for it, as he would have this place after me--a
fine estate and a good position: what could he want more? But he was a
curious fellow. Once he formed an opinion there was no persuading him to
change it. He was always getting ideas such as no one else would think
of; he did not care for anything that other people cared for; never
hunted nor shot. He used to puzzle me altogether with his ways, and,
'pon my word, I was not sorry when he said he would go to India, for
there was no saying how he might have turned out if he had stopped here.
He never could do anything like anybody else: nothing that he could have
done would have surprised me.
“If he had told me that he intended to be a play actor, or a Jockey, or
a private, or a book writer, I should not have been surprised. Upon my
word, it was rather a relief to me when he said, 'I have made up my mind
to go into the East India Service, father. I suppose you can get me
a cadetship?' At least that was an honorable profession; and I knew,
anyhow, that when he once said 'I have made up my mind, father,' no
arguments would move him, and that if I did not get him a cadetship he
was perfectly capable of running away, going up to London, and enlisting
in one of their white regiments.”
John Thorndyke's own remembrances were that his brother had always
been good natured to him, that he had often told him long stories about
Indian adventures, and that a short time before he went away, having
heard that he had been unmercifully beaten by the schoolmaster at
Reigate for some trifling fault, he had gone down to the town, and had
so battered the man that the school had to be closed for a fortnight.
They had always kept up a correspondence. When he received the news of
his father's death George had written to him, begging him to go down to
Reigate, and to manage the estate for him.
“Of course,” he said, “you will draw its income as long as you are
there. I mayn't be back for another twenty years; one gets rich out here
fast, what with plunder and presents and one thing and another, and it
is no use to have money accumulating at home, so just live on the place
as if it were your own, until I come home to turn you out.”
John had declined the offer.
“I am very well where I am,” he wrote, “and the care of the estate would
be a horrible worry to me; besides, I have just married, and if I ever
have any children they would be brought up beyond their station. I
have done what I can for you. I have seen the family lawyers, who have
engaged a man who has been steward to Sir John Hieover, and looked after
the estate during his son's minority. But the young blade, on coming of
age, set to work to make ducks and drakes of the property, and Newman
could not bear to see the estate going to the Jews, so, as luck would
have it, he resigned a month ago, and has been appointed steward at
Reigate. Of course, if you don't like the arrangement you must write and
say so. It will be a year before I get your answer, and he has only been
engaged for certain for that time; it must lie with you as to permanent
arrangement.”
So Newman had taken charge of the Reigate estate, and had continued
to manage it ever since, although George had written home in great
displeasure at his offer being refused.
Inside the Manor the bustle of preparations was going on; the spare
room, which had not been used for many years, was being turned out, and
a great fire lighted to air it. John Thorndyke had sent a letter by the
returning messenger to a friend in town, begging him to go at once to
Leadenhall Street and send down a supply of Indian condiments for his
brother's use, and had then betaken himself to the garden to think the
matter over. The next day a post chaise arrived, bringing the invalid
and his colored servant, whose complexion and Indian garb struck the
maids with an awe not unmingled with alarm. John Thorndyke could hardly
believe that the bent and emaciated figure was that of his brother, but
he remembered the voice when the latter said, holding out his hand to
him:
“Well, brother John, here I am, what is left of me. Gracious, man,
who would have thought that you were going to grow up such a fine tall
fellow? You are more fitted to be a soldier than I am. No, don't try
to help me out; Ramoo will do that--he is accustomed to my ways, and I
would as soon trust myself to a rogue elephant as to you.”
“I am sorry to see you looking so bad, brother George.”
“What must be must. I have had my fling; and after thirty years of
marching and fighting, I have no right to grumble if I am laid upon my
back at last.”
Leaning on Ramoo's arm, Colonel Thorndyke made his way into the house,
and when the Hindoo had arranged the cushions of the sofa, took his
place there in a half reclining position.
“I am not always as bad as this, John,” he said; “the jolting of your
confounded roads has been too much for me. If I were the King I would
hang every fellow who had anything to do with them--contractors, boards
of county magistrates, and the whole lot. If I had known what it was
going to be like I would have hired a sedan chair, and had myself
carried down. That is what I have been doing in London; but I would
rather have had an Indian palkee, that one could have lain down
comfortably in.”
“What shall I get you first, George? I have got some lemons.”
“I want something better than lemons, John. Have you any Burgundy
handy?”
“Yes, plenty.”
“If you give a bottle to Ramoo he will know how much water I want.”
Here the servants entered with a tray with a chicken and a dish of
kidneys.
“I sent up yesterday for some of the Indian things that you are
accustomed to, George, but they have not come down yet.”
“I brought a store down with me. This will do capitally for the present.
Ramoo will do the cooking for me in future. He need not go into the
kitchen to scare the maids. I could see they looked at him as if he had
been his infernal majesty, as he came in. He can do it anywhere; all he
wants is an iron pot with some holes in it, and some charcoal. He can
squat out there on the veranda, or, if it is bad weather, any shed will
do for him.
“Well, it is nice to be home again, John,” he went on, after he had
eaten a few mouthfuls of chicken and drunk a tumbler of Burgundy and
water. “I am glad to be back, now I am here, though I dare say I should
not have come home for another ten years if it had not been for this
rascally bullet. Where is your boy?”
“He is away at school.”
“Well, I think I will go up to bed at once, if you don't mind, John. I
shall be fitter to talk in the morning.”
The next day, indeed, Colonel Thorndyke was materially better. His voice
was stronger and more cheery, and when he came down after breakfast he
took his seat in an easy chair instead of on the sofa.
“Now, brother,” he said, “we will have a cozy chat. There are several
things I want done, but the chief of these is that when I am gone you
should go down to Reigate, as I wanted you to do ten years ago. I want
you to seem to be its master, as well as be its master, until Millicent
comes of age, if not longer. Her name is Millicent Conyers Thorndyke. I
wish her to be called Millicent Conyers, and to appear as your ward, and
not as your niece and heiress of the property. If there is one thing in
the world I have a greater horror of than another, it is of a girl being
married for her money. I don't suppose that anyone knows that I have a
daughter--at any rate, none beyond a few Indian chums. She was sent home
with an ayah under the charge of the widow of a comrade of mine. I had
been away for months, and only went back to Calcutta in time to see her
mother die. So that is all right.”
“I could not do such a thing as that, George. I should be living under
false colors. It is not that I mind so much leaving here and looking
after the child's interest at Reigate, but I could not possibly take
possession of the place as its owner when I should not be so. Besides,
there are other objections. Mark would grow up supposing himself to be
the heir.”
“Mark will be all right. I have, since I have been in London, signed a
will, leaving the rest of my fortune between them. I had it drawn up by
our father's solicitors, relying upon your consent to do what I asked
you. I have explained the matter to them, and given them the assignment,
or whatever they call it, of the Reigate estate to you, until my
daughter comes of age, appointing them her guardians should you die
before that. Thus, you will be placed in a proper position; and should
it be known by any means that the child is my daughter, that deed will
still be a proof that you are carrying out my wishes, and are absolute
master of the estate until she comes of age.”
“I must think it all over, George. It is a singular proposal, and I own
I would rather things went on in their regular course.”
“Yes, yes, I understand that, John; but you see I have altogether set
my mind on this matter. I want to know that my girl is not going to be
married for her money; and, at any rate, that deed makes you master of
the Reigate estates for the next thirteen years; so the only thing that
I really want of you is to let the girl be called your ward instead of
your niece, and that she and everyone else shall be in ignorance that
she is an heiress. So far from doing the girl a wrong, you will be doing
her a benefit; and as I have explained the whole matter to our lawyers,
no one can possibly think that the thing has been done from any motive
whatever except that of affording me satisfaction.”
“I will think the matter over,” John repeated. “Of course, brother, it
has been in your mind for some time, but it comes altogether fresh to
me, and I must look at it in every light. For myself, I have no wish at
all to become master of our father's estate. I have been going in one
groove for the last twenty years, and don't care about changing it. You
wished me to do so ten years ago, and I declined then, and the ten years
have not made me more desirous of change than I was before.”
“All right; think it over. Please send Ramoo in to me; I have tired
myself in talking.”
John Thorndyke smoked many churchwarden pipes in the little arbor in his
garden that day. In the afternoon his brother was so weak and tired that
the subject of the conversation was not reverted to. At eight o'clock
the Colonel went off to bed. The next morning, after breakfast, he was
brighter again.
“Well, John, what has come of your thinking?” he asked.
“I don't like it, George.”
“You mayn't like it, John, but you will do it. I am not going to have my
girl run after by ruined spendthrifts who want her money to repair their
fortunes; and I tell you frankly, if you refuse I shall go up to town
tomorrow, and I shall make a new will, leaving all my property to your
son, subject to a life annuity of 200 pounds a year to the child, and
ordering that, in the event of his dying before he comes of age, or of
refusing to accept the provisions of the will, or handing any of the
property or money over to my daughter, the whole estate, money, jewels,
and all, shall go to the London hospitals, subject, as before, to the
annuity.
“Don't be an ass, brother John. Do you think that I don't know what I
am doing? I have seen enough of the evils of marrying for money out in
India. Every ship that comes out brings so many girls sent out to some
relation to be put on the marriage market, and marrying men old enough
to be pretty nearly their grandfathers, with the natural consequence
that there is the devil to pay before they have been married a year or
two. Come, you know you will do it; why not give in at once, and have
done with it? It is not a bad thing for you, it will be a good thing for
your boy, it will save my girl from fortune hunters, and enable me to
die quietly and comfortably.”
“All right, George, I will do it. Mind, I don't do it willingly, but I
do it for your sake.”
“That is right,” Colonel Thorndyke said, holding out his thin bronzed
hand to his brother; “that is off my mind. Now, there is only one other
thing--those confounded jewels. But I won't talk about them now.”
It was not indeed till three or four days later that the Colonel again
spoke to his brother on any than ordinary matters. He had indeed been
very weak and ailing. After breakfast, when, as usual, he was a little
stronger and brighter than later in the day, he said to his brother
suddenly:--
“I suppose there are no hiding places in this room?”
“Hiding places! What do you mean, George?”
“Places where a fellow could hide up and hear what we are talking
about.”
“No, I don't think so,” the Squire replied, looking round vaguely. “Such
an idea never occurred to me. Why do you ask?”
“Because, John, if there is such a thing as a hiding place, someone will
be sure to be hiding there. Where does that door lead to?”
“It doesn't lead anywhere; it used to lead into the next room, but it
was closed up before my time, and turned into a cupboard, and this door
is permanently closed.”
“Do you mind stepping round into the next room and seeing if anyone is
in the cupboard?”
Thinking that his brother was a little light headed, John Thorndyke went
into the next room, and returned, saying gravely that no one was there.
“Will you look behind the curtains, John, and under this sofa, and
everywhere else where even a cat could be hidden? That seems all right,”
the Colonel went on, as his brother continued the search. “You know
there is a saying that walls have ears, and I am not sure that it is
not so. I have been haunted with the feeling that everything I did was
watched, and that everything I said was listened to for years; and I can
tell you it is a devilishly unpleasant thought. Draw your chair quite
close to me. It is about my jewels, John. I always had a fancy for
jewels--not to wear them, but to own them. In my time I have had good
opportunities in that way, both in the Madras Presidency and in the
Carnatic. In the first place, I have never cared for taking presents in
money, but I have never refused jewels; and what with Rajahs and Nabobs
and Ministers that one had helped or done a good turn to somehow, a good
deal came to me that way.
“Then I always made a point of carrying money with me, and after a
defeat of the enemy or a successful siege, there was always lots of
loot, and the soldiers were glad enough to sell anything in the way of
jewels for a tithe of their value in gold. I should say if I put the
value of the jewels at 50,000 pounds I am not much wide of the mark.
That is all right, there is no bother about them; the trouble came
from a diamond bracelet that I got from a soldier. We were in camp near
Tanjore. I was officer of the day. I had made my rounds, and was coming
back to my quarters, when I saw a soldier coming out of a tent thirty
or forty yards away. It was a moonlight night, and the tent was one
belonging to a white Madras regiment. Suddenly, I saw another figure,
that had been lying down outside the tent, rise. I saw the flash of the
moonlight on steel; then there was a blow, and the soldier fell. I drew
my sword and rushed forward.
“The native--for I could see that it was a native--was bending over the
man he had stabbed. His back was towards me, and on the sandy soil he
did not hear my footsteps until I was close to him; then he sprang up
with a cry of fury, and leaped on me like a tiger. I was so taken by
surprise that before I could use my sword the fellow had given me a
nasty stab on the shoulder; but before he could strike again I had
run him through. By this time several other, men ran out of the tent,
uttering exclamations of rage at seeing their fallen comrade.
“'What is it, sir?' they asked me.
“'This scoundrel, here, has stabbed your comrade,' I said. 'He did not
see me coming, and I ran up just as he was, I think, rifling him for
booty. He came at me like a wild cat, and has given me a nasty stab.
However, I have put an end to his game. Is your comrade dead?'
“'No, sir, he is breathing still; but I fancy there is little chance for
him.'
“'You had better carry him to the hospital tent at once; I will send a
surgeon there.'
“I called the regimental surgeon up, and went with him to the hospital
tent, telling him what had happened. He shook his head after examining
the man's wound, which was fairly between the shoulders.
“'He may live a few hours, but there is no chance of his getting
better.'
“'Now,' I said, 'you may as well have a look at my wound, for the
villain stabbed me too.'
“'You have had a pretty narrow escape of it,' he said, as he examined
it. 'If he had struck an inch or two nearer the shoulder the knife would
have gone right into you; but you see I expect he was springing as he
struck, and the blow fell nearly perpendicularly, and it glanced down
over your ribs, and made a gash six inches long. There is no danger. I
will bandage it now, and tomorrow morning I will sew the edges together,
and make a proper job of it.'
“In the morning one of the hospital attendants came to me and said the
soldier who had been wounded wanted to speak to me. The doctor said he
would not live long. I went across to him. He was on a bed some little
distance from any of the others, for it was the healthy season, and
there were only three or four others in the tent.
“'I hear, Major Thorndyke,' he said in a low voice, 'that you killed
that fellow who gave me this wound, and that you yourself were stabbed.'
“'Mine is not a serious business, my man,' I said. 'I wish you had got
off as easily.'
“'I have been expecting it, sir,' he said; 'and how I came to be fool
enough to go outside the tent by myself I cannot think. I was uneasy,
and could not sleep; I felt hot and feverish, and came out for a breath
of fresh air. I will tell you what caused it, sir. About two years ago
a cousin of mine, in one of the King's regiments, who was dying, they
said, of fever (but I know the doctors thought he had been poisoned),
said to me, “Here are some things that will make your fortune if ever
you get to England; but I tell you beforehand, they are dangerous things
to keep about you. I fancy that they have something to do with my being
like this now. A year ago I went with some others into one of their
great temples on a feast day. Well, the god had got on all his trinkets,
and among them was a bracelet with the biggest diamonds I ever saw. I
did not think so much of it at the time, but I kept on thinking of them
afterwards, and it happened that some months after our visit we took the
place by storm. I made straight for the temple, and I got the jewels. It
don't matter how I got them--I got them. Well, since that I have never
had any peace; pretty near every night one or other of our tents was
turned topsy turvy, all the kits turned out, and even the ground dug
up with knives. You know how silently Indian thieves can work. However,
nothing was ever stolen, and as for the diamonds, at the end of every
day's march I always went out as soon as it was quite dark, and buried
the bracelet between the tent pegs; it did not take a minute to do. When
we moved, of course, I took it up again. At last I gave that up, for
however early I turned out in the morning there was sure to be a native
about. I took then to dropping it down the barrel of my gun; that way I
beat them. Still, I have always somehow felt myself watched, and my tent
has been disturbed a great deal oftener than any of the others. I have
had half a mind to throw the things away many a time, but I could not
bring myself to do it.”
“'Well, sir, I have carried the bracelet ever since. I have done as he
did, and always had it in my musket barrel--When we had fighting to do I
would drop it out into my hand and slip it into my ammunition pouch;
but I know that I have always been followed, just as Bill was. I suppose
they found out that I went to see him before he died. Anyhow, my tent
has been rummaged again and again. I have no doubt that fellow whom you
killed last night had been watching me all the time, and thought that I
had come out to hide the things. However, there they are, sir. One of my
mates brought my musket here a quarter of an hour ago, and emptied the
barrel out for me. Now, sir, you did your best to save my life last
night, and you killed that fellow who did for me, and you pretty nearly
got killed yourself. I have got no one else I could give the things to,
and if I were to give them to one of my mates in the regiment they would
probably cost him his life, as they have cost me mine. But you will know
what to do with the things; they are worth a lot of money if you can get
them home. Mind, sir, you have got to be careful. I have heard tales of
how those priests will follow up a temple jewel that has been lost for
years, and never give it up until they get it back again.'
“'I ought to give it up,' I said.
“'You don't know where it came from, sir,' he replied. 'I was one of a
party of convalescents who were sent up just before that fight, and my
own regiment was not there: it might have been here, and it might have
been in the Carnatic. Bill never told me, and I have no more idea than a
babe unborn.'
“The gems were certainly magnificent; and though I knew well enough that
these untiring Brahmins would not be long in guessing that the things
had come into my possession, I took the bracelet. I thought, anyhow,
that I might have a few hours' start; the fellow I had killed might, of
course, have one or two others with him, but I had to risk that. I got
leave an hour later, and went down to Madras, and got them put into
a place of safety. That I was watched all the time I was in India
afterwards I have no doubt, but no attempts were made to assassinate
me. They would have known that I went straight away, but whether I had
buried them somewhere on the road, or had given them to someone's care
at Madras they could not know, and there was, therefore, nothing for
them to do but to wait till I made a move.
“I have no doubt whatever that they came over in the same ship with me.
Two or three times during the week I was in London I saw colored men in
the street outside the hotel. Once it was a Lascar seaman, another time
a dark looking sailor in European clothes: he might pass for a Spaniard.
Several times as I was going about in a sedan chair I looked out
suddenly, and each time there was a dark face somewhere in the street
behind. I had a letter this morning from the lawyer, and he mentioned
that two days ago his offices had been broken into, and every strong box
and drawer forced open, but that, curiously enough, they could not find
that anything had been stolen, though in the cashier's box there were 30
pounds in gold. Of course it was my friends. I have no doubt that one or
two of them have followed me down here; and for anything I know they may
be lurking somewhere in your garden at the present moment--that is, if
they are not standing beside us in this room.”
John Thorndyke looked round with an uncomfortable feeling.
“How do you mean, George?”
“I mean some of those Indian fellows can do all sorts of wonderful
conjuring tricks. I have seen them go up into the air on a rope and
never come down again, and for aught I know they may be able to render
themselves invisible. Seriously, I think that it is likely as not.”
“Well, and where are the things to be found now, George?”
“That I won't tell you, John. Before I go I will whisper it in your ear,
and give you the means of finding them, but not till then. No, I will
write it down on a piece of paper, and slip it into your hand. As soon
as you get out of the room you glance at it, and then put the piece of
paper into your mouth, chew it up and swallow it. I tell you I dare not
even whisper it; but whatever you do, take no steps in the matter until
your son comes of age.”
“There can surely be no danger in another twelve years, George; they
will have given up the search long before that.”
“Not they,” the Colonel said emphatically. “If they die others will take
their places: it is a sacred business with them. My advice to you is,
either sell them directly you get them into your hands, or go straight
to Amsterdam and sell them there to one of the diamond cutters, who will
turn them out so that they will be altered beyond all recognition. Don't
sell more than two stones at most to any one man; then they will never
come out as a bracelet again, and the hunt will be over.”
“I would almost rather leave them alone altogether, George.”
“Well, they are worth 50,000 pounds if they are worth a penny, and a
great deal more I should say; but you cannot leave them alone without
leaving everything alone, for all my gems are with them, and 52,000
pounds in gold. Of course, if you like you can, when you get the box,
pick those diamonds out and chuck them away, but if you do you must do
it openly, so that anyone watching you may see you do it, otherwise the
search will go on.”
Two days later, as Ramoo was helping the Colonel to the sofa, the latter
was seized with a violent fit of coughing, then a rush of blood poured
from his lips. His brother and Ramoo laid him on the sofa almost
insensible.
“Run and get some water, Ramoo,” John Thorndyke said.
As Ramoo left the room the Colonel feebly placed his snuffbox in his
brother's hand with a significant glance; then he made several desperate
efforts to speak, and tried to struggle up into a sitting position;
another gush of blood poured from him, and as it ceased he fell back
dead.
John Thorndyke was bitterly grieved at the death of his brother, and it
was not until he went up to his room that night that he thought of the
snuffbox that he had dropped into his pocket as his brother handed it
to him. He had no doubt that it contained the instructions as to the
treasure. It was of Indian manufacture. He emptied the snuff from it,
but it contained nothing else. He was convinced that the secret must be
hidden there, and after in vain endeavoring to find a spring, he took
a poker and hammered it, and as it bent a spring gave way, and showed a
very shallow false bottom.
In this was a thin gold coin, evidently of considerable antiquity, and a
small piece of paper, on which was written the word “Masulipatam.” John
Thorndyke looked at it in bewilderment; that it was connected with the
secret he felt certain, but alone it was absolutely useless. Doubtless
his brother had intended to give him the key of the riddle, when he had
so desperately striven to speak. After in vain thinking the matter over
he said:
“Well, thank goodness; there is nothing to be done about the matter for
another thirteen or fourteen years; it is of no use worrying about it
now.” He went to an old fashioned cabinet, and placed the coin and piece
of paper in a very cunningly devised secret drawer. The next morning
he went out into the garden and dropped the battered snuffbox into the
well, and then dismissed the subject from his mind.