"I couldn't neglect such a poignant wire," I said. "What's the
matter? Have you come into a fortune?"
He laughed in a curious jerky sort of way, and just then Mrs. Jones
came in and began to lay the table for lunch.
As soon as she had gone down again, Bruce walked across to the
fire-place, and threw down his cigarette in the grate.
"I didn't get any money," he said abruptly. "The old chap left every
cent he had to Reardon, the man who published his book of travels."
"I should dispute the will," I said. "An author who leaves money to
a publisher is obviously mad."
Bruce scratched his ear for a moment in silence.
"I've got something else, though," he said at last. Then he stepped
to his desk, pulled open the drawer, and took out a small, dark green
object.
"What do you make of it?" he said, handing it to me.
I took it, and crossed to the window so as to get it in a better
light.
I am not a particularly impressionable person, but when I saw it at
close quarters I as nearly as possible dropped it.
"Good heavens," I said, "what a loathsome thing! What is it? A
monkey or a devil?"
Bruce laughed uneasily. "It's the Nadir Bandar," he said.
At that moment the door opened, and Mrs. Jones came in again with a
mushroom omelette. I stuffed the infernal piece of jade away in my
pocket, and we sat down at the table. It was not until she had shut
the door behind her that I took it out.
"And what the devil is the Nadir Bandar when it's at home?" I asked,
setting the horrible thing up on the tablecloth in front of me.
Bruce laid down his fork, and, putting his hand in his pocket, pulled
out a couple of sheets of dirty folded foolscap.
"You'd better read that," he said'.
I took them with no little curiosity. They were written in a very
fine sloping hand, and were headed: "An Account of the Finding of the
Nadir Bandar. Not to be published until after my death.--MERVYN
BRUCE."
Here is the whole thing as it was written:
"I first heard of the Nadir Bandar when I was at Nikh in '73. I was
told of it by the Sheikh Al-Abbas, who claimed himself to be
descended from Nadir Shah.
"Al-Abbas had been wounded in the rebellion against Nasr-ed-Din, and
had fled to Nikh, where I found him dying and in disguise. I took
him into my house and looked after him as well as I could, for the
man was a great man of noble blood, and not an accursed Turkish dog
like Nasr-ed-Din.
"On the night before he died he spoke to me of the Nadir Bandar.
"'If I had it,' he said, 'I would wish to be well, and I would also
wish that Nasr-ed-Din should be eaten of worms.'
"Myself: 'What is the Nadir Bandar, Sheikh Al-Abbas? I have not
heard of it.'
"The Sheikh: 'There is but one who has heard of it, and he will die
with the coming of the sun.'
"Myself: 'It is a great power if it can grant such wishes as you
name.'
"The Sheikh: 'There is no wish that it cannot grant. Four times may
a man call upon it and four times will it answer. With its aid my
ancestor, Nadir Shah, conquered the entire world.'
"Myself: 'If he possessed such a power, Sheikh Al-Abbas, why did he
allow himself to be slain?'
"The Sheikh: 'Four times had he called on it and four times had it
answered.'
"Myself: 'You mean that its power had passed away?'
"The Sheikh: 'He had buried it at the meeting of the waters. His
last wish had been that he might win the world and gain the mountain
of light. When this was granted he buried it beneath the great sun
stone at the meeting of the waters. After that he was slain.'
"Myself: 'And where is the meeting of the waters, Sheikh Al-Abbas?'
"The Sheikh: 'I cannot say. All that I know I was told by my father,
who had had it from his father before him.'
"When I rose next morning the Sheikh Al-Abbas was dead. I buried
him, pondering greatly over his story. Some would have dismissed it
from their minds as the babbling of a dying man, but I have seen many
strange things in this world, and I knew well that the Sheikh
Al-Abbas had spoken what he believed to be true.
"So soon as I could get away from Nikh in safety I travelled through
to Quetta, and, there procuring a map, I traced out the marches of
Nadir Shah, as he came back from the ravishing of Delhi. So far as I
could see there was but one place to which the phrase used by the
Sheikh Al-Abbas could be applied. That was a few miles to the east
of Jelalabad, where the Chitral and Kabul rivers mingle together and
flow down to the great lakes.
"I made my way up to Peshawar, and in the disguise of an Afghan
hillman crossed the border. At Lalpura I fell in with a travelling
merchant, who was in much fear of being waylaid by robbers. 'Two,'
said he, 'are better company than one.' And together we set out on
the road to Jelalabad.
"We passed through Kila Akhund before the sun was high in the sky,
and halted for our midday rest on the bank of the Kabul river. It
was there that I learned of the Temple of the Sun Stone.
"It stood before us at the meeting of the waters, a low stone
building set on an island in mid-stream.
"When my companion spoke of it by its name my heart leaped suddenly
within me, for I recalled the words of the Sheikh Al-Abbas.
"'It is very sacred,' said my companion. 'No one but the priests of
the Sun are allowed to enter or even to land on the island.'
"I made no reply to him, and later on we continued our journey to
Jelalabad, where we parted.
"That night I rode out from the city, and tied up my horse in a
thicket on the bank of the river opposite to the temple. Then,
stripping myself of my clothes, I entered the water and swam to the
island, having some matches and a loaded pistol in my turban. These
I took out on landing, and advanced very carefully towards the gate
of the temple.
"It was shut, and I could find no means of opening it save by
breaking it in with a stone. This I did, waiting in some anxiety to
see what might happen. There was no sound or movement, and I
entered. The temple was quite dark inside; so, halting and striking
a match, I held it up above my head and looked about me.
"The floor was of beaten earth, and at the further end I beheld a
large red stone, as red as blood, and guarded by golden rails. There
were two candles, one each side, set in brass candlesticks.
"These I lighted, and then without more ado set to work, digging out
the earth under the stone with the aid of my knife. I must have
laboured for the best part of an hour before the steel struck upon
something hard, and the blade snapped in my hand. In another minute
I had dragged to light an ancient iron box, which had rusted fully as
red as the stone above. The cover fell off as I lifted it, and
inside I beheld the Nadir Bandar.
"Scarcely had I taken it in my hand, when the door of the temple
opened. I looked up quickly. In the gloom I could see three
figures, tall men robed in white, and carrying swords.
"I raised my pistol, but as I did so the words of the Sheikh Al-Abbas
came flooding into my mind. 'I wish,' said I clearly and without
hesitation, 'that I was in Peshawar.'
"For a moment my eyes closed. When I opened them I was standing
outside the house in Peshawar where I had lately lodged."
At this point I laid down the manuscript and burst into a shout of
laughter.
Bruce leaned across and picked it up. "You think it's all nonsense?"
he said.
"I think," said I, "that as an explorer your uncle can give points to
Louis de Rougemont and Dr. Cook. The picture of him suddenly
appearing naked in the main street of Peshawar, with a pistol in one
hand and the Nadir Bandar in the other, is about the richest touch of
imagination I've ever struck."
"You think it's all a lie?" persisted Bruce.