Frank Farquhar was cleverly working his own game. The Professor had
scoffed at the theory put forward by Diamond, therefore he was easily
induced to give a written undertaking to regard the knowledge derived
from the half-burnt manuscript as strictly confidential, and to make no
use of it to his own personal advantage.
“I have to obtain this,” the young man explained, “in the interests of
Diamond, who, after all, is possessor of the papers. He allowed me to
have them only on that understanding.”
“My dear Frank,” laughed the great Hebrew scholar, “really all this is
very absurd. But of course I’ll sign any document you wish.”
So amid some laughter a brief undertaking was signed, “in order that I
may show to Diamond,” as Frank put it.
“It’s really a most businesslike affair,” declared Gwen, who witnessed
her father’s signature. “The secret must be a most wonderful one.”
“It is, dear,” declared her lover. “Wait and hear your father’s
opinion. He is one of the very few men in the whole kingdom competent
to judge whether the declaration is one worthy of investigation.”
The Professor was seated at his writing-table placed near the left-hand
window, and had just signed the document airily, with a feeling that the
whole matter was a myth. Upon the table was his green-shaded electric
reading-lamp, and with his head within the zone of its mellow light he
sat, his bearded chin resting upon his palm, looking at the man to whom
he had promised his daughter’s hand.
A scholar of his stamp is always very slow to commit himself to any
opinion. The Hebrew professor, whoever he may be, follows recognised
lines, and has neither desire nor inclination to depart from them. It
was so with Griffin. Truth to tell, he was much interested in the
problem which young Farquhar had placed before him, but at the same time
the suggestion made by Doctor Diamond was so startling and unheard of
that, within himself, he laughed at the idea, regarding it as a mere
newspaper sensation, invented in the brain of some clever Continental
swindler.
From his pocket the young man drew forth the precious envelope, and out
of it took the cards between which reposed three pieces of crinkled and
smoke-blackened typewriting, the edges of which had all been badly
burned.
The first which he placed with infinite care, touching it as lightly as
possible, upon the Professor’s blotting-pad was the page already
reproduced--the folio which referred to the studying of the “Mishna” and
the cabalistic signs which the writer had apparently discovered therein.
The old man, blinking through his heavy round glasses, examined the
disjointed words and unfinished lines, grunted once or twice in
undisguised dissatisfaction, and placed the fragment aside.
“Well?” inquired Farquhar, eagerly, “does that convey anything to you?”
The Professor pursed his lips in quiet disbelief.
“The prologue of a very elegant piece of fiction,” he sneered. “The man
who makes this statement ought certainly to have been a novelist.”
“Why?”
“Because of the clever manner in which he introduces his subject. But
let us continue.”
With delicate fingers Frank Farquhar handled the next scrap of
typewriting and placed it before the great expert.
The folio in question apparently attracted Professor Griffin much more
than the first one presented to him. He read and re-read it, his grey
face the whole time heavy and thoughtful. He was reconstructing the
context in his own mind, and its reconstruction evidently caused him
deep and very serious reflection.
A dozen times he re-read it, while Frank and Gwen stood by exchanging
glances in silence.
“The first portion of the statement on this folio is quite plain,”
remarked the Professor at last, looking up and blinking at the young
man. “The writer indicates the Biblical fact that, after the Babylonian
imprisonment the tablets of Moses were never again exhibited in the
Temple. Surely this is not any amazing discovery! Every reader of the
Old Testament is aware of that fact. The prophet Ezekiel himself was
one of the temple priests deported to Babylon by Nebuchadnezzar in 597
B.C. You’ll find mention of it in Ezekiel, i, 2-8. His message
consisted at first of denunciations of his countrymen, both in Babylon
and in Palestine, but after the fall of Jerusalem in 586 B.C. he became
a prophet of consolation, promising the eventual deliverance and
restoration of the chosen people. Give me down the Bible, Gwen, dear,
and also Skinner--the ‘Expositor’s Bible.’ You’ll see it in the second
case--third shelf to the left.”
The girl crossed the room, and after a moment’s search returned with the
two volumes, which she placed before her father.
“Nebuchadnezzar received certain vessels from the temple at Jerusalem.
Well, we know that,” remarked the old man, as he opened the copy of Holy
Writ and slowly turned its pages.
“The reference in the book of Ezra,” he said, referring to the open book
before him, “concerns the proclamation of Cyrus, King of Persia, for the
building of the temple in Jerusalem, how the people provided for the
return, and how Cyrus restored the vessels of the temple to Sheshbazzar,
the Prince of Judah.” Then, turning to Gwen, he said: “Read the verses
referred to, dear--seventh to the eleventh in the first chapter.”
The girl bent over the Bible, and read the verses aloud as follows:
“Also Cyrus the King brought forth the vessels of the house of the Lord,
which Nebuchadnezzar had brought forth out of Jerusalem, and had put
them in the house of his gods;
“Even those did Cyrus King of Persia bring forth by the hand of
Mithredath the treasurer, and numbered them unto Sheshbazzar, the Prince
of Judah.
“And this is the number of them: thirty chargers of gold, a thousand
chargers of silver, nine and twenty knives,
“Thirty basons of gold, silver basons of a second _sort_ four hundred
and ten, _and_ other vessels a thousand.
“All the vessels of gold and silver _were_ five thousand and four
hundred. All _these_ did Sheshbazzar bring up with _them_ of the
captivity that were brought up from Babylon unto Jerusalem.”
“Surely that is sufficient historical fact!” the old Professor said in
his hard, “dry-as-dust” voice. “Again, farther on, there is, you see, a
statement that Titus destroyed Jerusalem and that he built the Arch of
Triumph in Rome and placed a representation of the candlesticks upon it.
Does not every schoolboy know that! Bosh! my dear Frank!”
“True,” exclaimed Frank, “but see! in the next line but one is a
reference to the existence of something in ‘the whole prophecy of
Ezekiel’--something in ‘black and white.’”
Professor Griffin shrugged his shoulders.
“Ezekiel develops the doctrine of individual responsibility and of the
Messianic kingdom as no prophet before him,” was the Professor’s reply.
“It may refer to that. The prophet’s style is not of the highest order,
but is extraordinarily rich and striking in its imagery. The
authenticity of the book is now admitted, all but universally, but the
corrupt state of the Hebrew text has, for ages, been the despair of
students. Cornhill, in 1886, made a brilliant attempt to reconstruct
the Hebrew text with the aid of the Septuagint.”
Griffin noticed that his young friend did not quite follow that last
remark, so he added:
“The Septuagint is, as you may perhaps know, the earliest Greek
translation of the Old Testament scriptures made directly from the
Hebrew original during the third century before Christ for the use of
the Hellenistic Jews. In the literary forgery produced about the
Christian era, known as the ‘Letter of Aristeas,’ and accepted as
genuine by Josephus and others, it is alleged that the translation was
made by seventy-two men at the command of Ptolemy II. You will find
portions of it in the British Museum, and from it we find that the
translation is not of uniform value or of the same style throughout.
The Pentateuch and later historical books, as well as the Psalms,
exhibit a very fair rendering of the original. The prophetical books,
and more especially Ezekiel, show greater divergence from the Hebrew,
while Proverbs frequently display loose paraphrase.”
“But is there anything in those typed lines which strikes you as
unusually curious?” demanded young Farquhar, pointing to the smoked and
charred fragment upon the blotting-pad.
The Professor was silent for a moment, his eyes fixed upon the
disjointed and unfinished sentences.
“Well--yes. There is something,” was his answer. “That statement that
something exists in ‘the whole prophecy of Ezekiel.’ What is that
something?”
“Is it what Doctor Diamond suspects it to be, do you think?”
“I can form no definite conclusion until I have investigated the whole,”
was the great scholar’s response. “But I would, at this point, withdraw
my own light remarks of half an hour ago. There may be something of
interest in it, but what the picturesque story is all leading up to I
cannot quite imagine.”
“To a secret--to the solution of a great and undreamed-of mystery!”
declared Frank excitedly.
“The last few lines of this scrap before me certainly leads towards that
supposition,” was the answer of Gwen Griffin’s father.
“Then you do not altogether negative Diamond’s theory that there is
here, if we can only supply the context, the key to the greatest secret
this world has ever known!”
“Ah! that is saying a good deal,” was the reply. “Let me continue the
investigation of this wonderful document which the dying man was so
anxious to destroy.”
And by the sphinx-like expression upon the old man’s face it was
apparent that he had already gathered more information than he was
willing to admit.
The truth was that the theory he had already formed within his own mind
held him bewildered. His thin fingers trembled as he touched the dried,
crinkled folio.
There was a secret there--without a doubt, colossal and astounding--one
of which even the greatest scholars in Europe through all the ages had
never dreamed!
The old man sat staring through his spectacles in abject wonder.
Was Doctor Diamond’s theory really the correct one? If so, what right
had these most precious papers to be in the hands of an irresponsible
journalist?
If there was really a secret, together with its solution--then the
latter must be his, and his alone, he decided. How it would enhance his
great reputation if he were the person to launch it forth upon the
world!
Therefore the old man’s attitude suddenly changed and he pretended to
regard the affair humorously, in the hope of putting Frank off his
guard.
If the world was ever to be startled by the discovery it should, he
intended, be by Professor Arminger Griffin, and not through any one of
those irresponsible halfpenny sheets controlled by Sir George Gavin and
his smart and ingenious young brother-in-law.
Both Frank Farquhar and Gwen noticed the old man’s sudden change of
manner, and stood puzzled and wondering, little dreaming what was
passing with his mind.
Few men are--alas!--honest where their own reputations are at stake.