Following dinner, the men--or, as my friend has it, "the
gunners"--drifted into the hall. The hall at Ragstaff Park is fitted
as a smoking lounge. It dates back to Tudor days and affords some
magnificent examples of mediæval panelling. At every point the eye meets
the device of a man with a ragged staff--from which the place derives
its name, and which is the crest of the Reynors.
A conversation took place to which, at the time, I attached small
importance, but which, later, assumed a certain significance.
"Extraordinary business," said Felix Hulme--"that attempted burglary at
Sir Julius's studio last night."
"Yes," replied Lorian. "Who told you?"
Hulme appeared to be confused by the abrupt question.
"Oh," he replied, "I heard of it from Baxter, who has the next studio,
you know."
"When did you see Baxter?" asked Lorian casually.
"This morning."
"I suppose," said Colonel Reynor to my friend, "a number of your
father's drawings are there?"
"Yes," answered Lorian slowly; "but the more valuable ones I have at my
own studio, including those intended for use in his book."
Something in his tone caused me to glance hard at him.
"You don't think they were the burglar's objective?" I suggested.
"Hardly," was the reply. "They would be worthless to a thief."
"First I've heard of this attempt, Lorian," said Edie. "Anything
missing?"
"No. The thing is an utter mystery. There were some odds and ends lying
about which no ordinary burglar could very well have overlooked."
"If any loss had been sustained," said the Colonel, half jestingly, "I
should have put it down to the Riddle!"
"Don't quite follow you. Colonel," remarked Edie. "What riddle?"
"The family Riddle of the Ragstaffs," explained Lorian. "You've seen
it--over there by the staircase."
"Oh!" exclaimed the other, "you mean that inscription on the
panel--which means nothing in particular? Yes, I have examined it
several times. But why should it affect the fortunes of Sir Julius?"
"You see," was the Colonel's reply, "we have a tradition in the family,
Edie, that the Riddle brings us luck, but brings misfortune to anyone
else who has it in his possession. It's never been copied before; but I
let Lorian--Sir Julius--make a drawing of it for his forthcoming book
on Decorative Wood-carving. I don't know," he added smilingly, "if the
mysterious influence follows the copy or only appertains to the
original."
"Let us have another look at it," said Edie. "It has acquired a new
interest!"
The whole party of us passed idly across the hall to the foot of the
great staircase. From the direction of the drawing-room proceeded the
softly played strains of the _Duetto_ from _Cavalleria_. I knew Sybil
Reynor was the player, and I saw Lorian glance impatiently in the
direction of the door. Hulme detected the glance, too, and an expression
rested momentarily upon his handsome face which I found myself at a loss
to define.
"You see," said the Colonel, holding a candle close to the
time-blackened panel, "it is a meaningless piece of mediæval doggerel
roughly carved in the wood. The oak-leaf border is very fine, so your
father tells me, Harry"--to Lorian--"but it is probably the work of
another hand, as is the man and ragged staff which form the shield at
the top."
"Has it ever occurred to you," asked Hulme, "that the writing might be
of a very much later date--late Stuart, for instance?"
"No," replied the Colonel abruptly, and turned away. "I am sure it is
earlier than that."
I was not the only member of the party who noticed the curt tone of his
reply; and when we had all retired for the night I lingered in Lorian's
room and reverted to the matter.
"Is the late Stuart period a sore point with the Colonel?" I asked.
Lorian, who was in an unusually thoughtful mood, lighted his pipe and
nodded.
"It is said," he explained, "that a Reynor at about that time turned
buccaneer and became the terror of the two Atlantics! I don't know what
possessed Hulme to say such a thing. Probably he doesn't know about the
piratical page in the family records, however. He's a strange chap."
"He is," I agreed. "Everybody seems to know him, yet nobody knows
anything _about_ him. I first met him at the Travellers' Club. I was
unaware, until I came down here this time, that the Colonel was one of
his friends."
"Edie brought him down first," replied Lorian. "But I think Hulme had
met Sybil--Miss Reynor--in London, before. I may be a silly ass, but
somehow I distrust the chap--always have. He seems to know altogether
too much about other people's affairs."
I mentally added that he also took too great an interest in a
certain young lady to suit Lorian's taste. We chatted upon various
matters--principally upon the manners, customs, and manifold beauties
of Sybil Reynor--until my friend's pipe went out. Then I bade him good
night and went to my own room.