Professor Griffin, for a scholar was a man of unusually rapid action.
He was convinced that another person was following the same course of
inquiry as himself. Therefore he determined to act quickly and
decisively.
Next day he returned to the British Museum, and after three hours’ work
completed the copy of the manuscript. Then he turned his attention to
two fragments of the Hebrew manuscript of the Book of Ezekiel, one of
the fourth century in the Oriental Room, and the other of the fifth
century in the Harleian collection.
While studying these, he recollected that some fragment of early
manuscript of Ezekiel had been recently found in the Genisa in Old Cairo
by Mr Alder and his companions, and that several of them were in the
Bodleian Library at Oxford. Therefore, he searched the catalogue, noted
the numbers, and that evening took the train to the university centre,
staying the night at the Randolph Hotel.
Next morning he was in consultation with his friend, Professor Cowley,
and Number 2611 of the Hebrew manuscript was brought. It proved to be
the text of Ezekiel from chapter xiv, 22 to chapter xlvii, 6.
“Ah!” exclaimed Griffin, the instant he glanced at it. “It is too
modern, I fear, for it contains the vowel-points.”
“Yes,” answered his friend. “I fear it will be of no value to you, if
you seek a very early manuscript.”
Griffin had made no explanation of the reason of his inquiry.
“The oldest manuscript of Ezekiel is, as you know, in the Imperial
Library in St. Petersburg,” Professor Cowley remarked. “I have here
some photographic reproductions,” and from a portfolio he produced some
facsimiles which had been published by the Paleographical Society some
years ago. They were splendid reproductions, and to Griffin of most
intense interest.
He sat and for a long time examined them most carefully. He made no
remark to his friend, but from the expression upon his face after making
a pencilled calculation upon the blotting-pad before him, it was evident
that his search had not been unrewarded.
The only other actual manuscript in the Bodleian proved to be a
parchment fragment of chaps, x, 9 to xiv, 11. But this containing
vowel-points and accents on both Mashrahs, was, at a glance, dismissed
as comparatively modern, its age being about A.D. 220.
The facsimile of the St. Petersburg manuscript was to him most
interesting and from it Griffin made copious notes. Then, that same
afternoon, he left for Cambridge, where next day he inspected several
early manuscripts in the University Library, and at evening was back
again in Pembridge Gardens, where he dined alone with Gwen.
The girl was anxious to ascertain what her father had discovered, but he
was most reticent, knowing well that all would be told to Frank Farquhar
on the following day.
Suddenly she said:
“Frank has gone abroad, dad.”
“Abroad? Where to?”
“To Copenhagen. He left Victoria at eleven this morning and travels by
Flushing, Kiel and Korsor. I saw him off.”
“Copenhagen!” repeated the Professor thoughtfully, and in an instant he
recollected that the dead stranger was a Dane, from Copenhagen. What
clue was young Farquhar following?
That night he sat alone in his study reading and re-reading the copy of
the first manuscript he had consulted in the British Museum, and
comparing it most carefully with the extracts he had made from the
facsimile of the St. Petersburg codex.
Then he took from a shelf a copy of the Old Testament in Hebrew and
English, and compared the Hebrew with the early texts.
“After all,” he remarked aloud to himself, “there is little or no
difference in our modern Hebrew text, except that in the older
manuscripts the name of the Deity is written larger, in order to render
it prominent. Ah! if I could only reconstruct the context!”
From his table he took up a large envelope, and breaking it open, drew
forth the whole-plate photographic reproductions of the precious
fragments of the dead stranger’s manuscript. These he placed before him
beneath his reading-lamp, and studied them long and carefully,
especially the scrap of handwriting.
Turning again to the extract he had made from the codex in St.
Petersburg he re-examined it. The portion was Ezekiel, ii, 9-10 in
Hebrew, the English of which was as follows: “And when I looked, behold
an hand _was_ sent unto me; and, lo, a roll of a book _was_ therein.
And he spread it before me; and it _was_ written within and without: and
_there_ was written therein lamentations, and mourning, and woe.”
These two verses had attracted him at Oxford, and they again riveted his
attention. It almost seemed as though he read in them some riddle
meaning something tangible, for he was making upon a slip of paper
frequent and rapid arithmetical calculations.
At half-past ten Gwen came, and kissing him good-night, urged him to go
to bed, but nevertheless he continued his work far into the night, until
the fire had burned itself out and he rose cold and tired.
He sighed, for though he had alighted upon something mysterious and
hitherto undiscerned in that early text, yet its meaning was altogether
uncertain.
Its discovery only served to increase the mystery a hundredfold.
As he lay in bed, two facts caused him apprehension. The first was the
existence of the mysterious foreigner who was following the same line of
inquiry as himself, and the second was the true reason of Frank
Farquhar’s visit to Copenhagen.
That the mysterious foreigner was making active investigations had again
been proved by Professor Cowley at Oxford, for he had remarked that only
on the previous day those selfsame fragments of Ezekiel had been
carefully inspected by a white-bearded man whose description answered in
every detail to the man who had searched in the Oriental Room of the
British Museum.
“He seemed extremely interested in the text of Ezekiel,” professor
Cowley had remarked. “He was a scholar, too, from the north of Europe I
should say.”
The mysterious searcher seemed a kind of will-o’-the-wisp, who had taken
exactly the same course as himself, only he had progressed a day or so
ahead. Was it possible that he held the selfsame knowledge as that
contained on the half-destroyed statement?
Next day Griffin again visited the British Museum, in order to make
further researches, and on entering, his friend the assistant-keeper
exclaimed:
“Oh! Professor! That foreign old gentleman, who is interested in
Ezekiel, was here again yesterday afternoon.”
“Here again!” echoed Griffin. “Have you found out who he is?”
“No--except that he is evidently a scholar.”
“What manuscripts did he consult?”
“Only one--the early fragment of Deuteronomy,” was the
assistant-keeper’s reply.
“May I see it?”
“Certainly,” and the official gave orders for the precious piece of
faded parchment to be brought.
It proved to be a Hebrew manuscript of a portion of the fifth chapter of
Deuteronomy beginning at the twenty-third verse, and ending at the
thirty-first Griffin who read Hebrew as he did English, glanced through
it, and saw that in English, the first verse could be translated as,
“And it came to pass, when ye heard the voice out of the midst of the
darkness, (for the mountain did burn with fire), that ye came near unto
me, _even_ all the heads of your tribes, and your elders; And ye said,
‘Behold the Lord our God hath shewed us His glory and His greatness, and
we have heard His voice out of the midst of the fire: we have seen this
day that God doth talk with man, and He liveth.’”
As he read rapidly the Hebrew words his face brightened. Something was
revealed to him. The stranger was evidently following an exactly
similar line to himself, and had, by copying that Biblical fragment,
advanced a stage nearer the truth!
“This fragment is published in facsimile, if I remember aright?” he
asked the assistant-keeper of manuscripts.
“Yes, by the Paleographical Society. I have a copy if you wish the loan
of it.”
And the Professor gladly accepted the loan of the large thin volume of
reproductions of the rarest treasures among the Biblical manuscripts.
The researches of the foreigner showed him to be in possession of some
additional facts. What were they? Ah! if he could only meet the man
whose footsteps he was following, if he could only watch unseen, and
note what authorities he was consulting.
For a week he haunted the Museum at all hours, hoping to meet the old
man who held possession of the dead man’s secret.
He wrote to Professor Cowley at Oxford, and received a reply stating
that the foreigner had been again to the Bodleian on the previous day
inspecting the two fragments of early texts of Deuteronomy preserved
there.
Griffin lost no time in again going down to Oxford, and next morning
early called at the library. He remained there all day, but to his
disappointment the mysterious old man did not reappear. He had no doubt
left Oxford before the Professor’s arrival.
From those two fragments of Deuteronomy which had so interested the
stranger, Griffin could make out nothing. They did not contain anything
bearing upon the theory that he had been following. Yet he was told
that the stranger had spent five hours in studying them and making
certain arithmetical calculations.
He was sitting in the same silent, restful, book-lined room in which the
stranger had sat. He was in the same chair, indeed, and before him was
the same writing-pad upon which he had written.
The precious fragment was lying upon the pad of red blotting-paper. At
his side stood the official who had handed the stranger the piece of
crinkled parchment which he had sought.
“Yes,” he was saying, “he made a number of calculations, covering many
sheets of paper, and when he left, he said that his work was unfinished,
and that he intended to return. But we have not seen him since.”
As Professor Griffin was gazing long and steadily upon that early
fragment of Hebrew text, the official, who of course, knew the Professor
well, added: “Curiously enough, after he had gone, I found lying on the
table a piece of paper on which he had been making his calculations.
Here it is,” and he placed before the Professor a piece of crumpled
paper bearing upon it what appeared to be a sum of multiplication and
addition.
Griffin examined it eagerly, and, used as he was to the arithmetical
values of the letters of the Hebrew alphabet--for each letter was a
numerical value--he saw instantly that the stranger’s secret had fallen
into his hands! He held his breath as the assistant-librarian placed a
second scrap of paper before him.
By those two discarded scraps astounding truths had been suddenly
revealed to him!