The Great God Gold

Chapter Twenty One

The Falling of the Shadow

Gwen stood before her father and her lover, a pale, wan, trembling figure, evasive in all her answers.

With the seal of silence upon her lips what could she say?

As Professor Griffin had entered the door with his latch-key a hansom had drawn up at the kerb, and Frank, who had come straight from Charing Cross, after dropping his kit at his rooms, sprang out and ran up the steps to the porch to meet the elder man with a merry greeting.

His first inquiry had been of Gwen, but the Professor’s face told him that something was wrong, and they entered the hall together. Next moment, however, the maid rushed forward exclaiming: “Miss Gwen’s come home, sir. She’s upstairs.”

“Tell her we are here,” said her father, “and we’d like to see her at once.”

Then the two men walked into the dining-room, where, in a few brief sentences, the Professor explained to young Farquhar his daughter’s sudden disappearance.

Frank was quick to notice that the girl he loved had scarce dared to raise her eyes to his as she entered the room. The grey gown she wore, unrelieved by any touch of colour, served to accentuate the deadly pallor of her soft countenance. A change had been wrought in her – a great astounding change.

“Why, Gwen dear!” gasped her father. “What’s the matter? What has occurred?”

“Nothing, dad,” faltered the girl.

“That’s quite absurd, my child,” cried the elder man. “You’ve been absent from home all these days, and sent me no word! Something unusual must have occurred.”

“Nothing, dad dear – at least, nothing that I can tell you.”

Frank started, staring straight at her, utterly amazed at her response.

“But, Gwen,” he exclaimed, “you surely can explain where you’ve been. The police, it seems, have been searching for you everywhere.”

Her eyes were cast quickly around the room, as though seeking means of escape from that cross-examination. Then she answered:

“I really don’t see what my business concerns any one – so long as I am at home again.”

“This is scarcely like you, Gwen,” exclaimed the grey-haired man reproachfully. “You are usually so very thoughtful for me, and careful not to give me cause for a moment’s anxiety.”

“It was quite inevitable, dad,” she replied. “I would not have remained silent intentionally – as you well know.”

“But surely,” interrupted Frank in a voice which showed that his suspicions were already aroused, “surely you can at least allow us the satisfaction of knowing where you’ve been, dear!”

“No harm has befallen me, has there? Therefore, why trouble about my absence?” she asked. To utter those words required all her self-control. She knew in what an awkward position she was now placing herself.

“Well, you seem to regard very lightly all the anxiety you have caused me, my child,” protested Griffin sharply.

“I am very sorry – truly sorry, dear dad,” was the pale-faced girl’s reply, “but my silence really was not my own fault.”

“At least you might be frank with us now, Gwen!” declared her lover. “You surely have nothing to hide!”

“Nothing whatever,” she said, smiling bitterly, “only I am, for certain reasons, compelled to regard my recent whereabouts as a secret.”

“Why?”

She was silent. What could she say! What indeed? The man Mullet, who had been her protector, and who had treated her with such kindness and consideration, making her confinement much the less irksome than it would have been; the man who had stood between her and her brutal, red-faced inquisitor, and who, just at the moment when a grave peril threatened her, had opened the door and allowed her to escape, and laid upon her a solemn vow of secrecy. His words rang distinctly in her ears: “Remember, Miss Griffin, if you tell your friends what has happened to you it will result in my ruin. Our enemies will avenge themselves by giving me over to the police. Therefore, I beg of you to remain silent – at all hazards – for my sake!” And she had promised.

Could she break that pledge, given to the man who had saved her from shame and dishonour?

By her hesitation, grave suspicions had gathered within the minds of both her father and her lover. Ignorant of the true facts, they both misjudged her.

Frank’s quick jealousy had been fired by her determination not to make explanation. Yet he had tried to suppress the bitter thoughts growing within him, hoping that it was her father’s presence which prevented her from telling him in confidence what had occurred.

“I cannot see why you should make such a great mystery of the affair, my dear child,” remarked the Professor, clearly annoyed.

“Well,” and she laughed nervously, “perhaps I may tell you something some day, dad. But please excuse me now, dear. I – I’m tired and – and very upset.”

The old man recognised from her pale, hard-drawn features that she was not herself. Her highly strung nerves were at their greatest tension. And, perhaps, after all, he thought, it was injudicious of him to submit her to that cross-examination in Frank’s presence.

Indeed, both men desired to speak with her alone, both believing that they would then induce her to tell the truth.

Little did they dream that the truth could never issue from her lips – that the vow she had made was to a man to whom the exposure meant loss of his liberty.

Her own position was a ghastly one. She had already realised that. She shuddered at the recollection of those hideous insults of that fat, brutal tormentor – and of the fate which he had marked out for her because she would not satisfy him concerning either her father or her lover.

Her sole thought was of “Charlie” – Mr Mullet, or “Red Mullet” as his friends were in the habit of calling him. She smiled at the humour of the appellation. It fitted him so well on account of his red hair and bristly red moustache.

Half an hour later the subject of her absence having by mutual consent, been dropped, the Professor went to his study to write some letters, while Gwen and her lover strolled into the big drawing-room, gaunt and cheerless without a fire.

When they were alone he took her white, trembling hand, and, looking steadily into her eyes, begged her to afford him the satisfaction of knowing the truth about her absence.

She had been dreading that moment, and she only shook her head.

“But, dearest!” he urged, “surely I have a right to know!”

“I thought you said only the day before your departure for Copenhagen that you could always trust me, Frank,” she answered, in a voice full of quiet reproach.

“I said so, I admit. But almost immediately I had gone it seems that you slipped out of the house without a word, and have only just returned. You will make no explanation, therefore what am I to think? What can I think!”

“You must think as evil of me as you may, Frank,” was the girl’s calm reply.

“No, no,” he cried. “Come darling, tell me all about it – in confidence. I won’t say a word to any living soul.”

“I cannot tell you,” was her faint response, standing rigid, with her eyes fixed straight before her. “Please do not ask me again.”

“Do you refuse, even me?”

“Yes, Frank – even you.”

He was silent. What ugly incident could she have to hide from him? He knew that before their first meeting she had, like many a young and pretty girl, been a sad flirt; that men had hovered about her continually, attracted by her sweet beauty and charming daintiness. He was not her first love. On the contrary, she had more than one little serious affair of the heart; first with a young Italian officer of infantry at Florence, where she had spent a winter with her father, and again with the son of a north country ironmaster while staying at the Empire at Buxton. She had confessed to those, and others. Indeed, hitherto she had never withheld from him any secret concerning her past. Therefore, why should she now refuse to give any account of her mysterious absence!

He was puzzled – puzzled by her attitude and puzzled by her determination to evade his questions. And, as was but natural, there sprang up in his breast the burning fire of jealousy.

The amazing, horrifying thought occurred to him that she, the sweet-faced girl he loved with his whole heart and soul, had, while he had been absent abroad, met some secret lover, an old “flame” most probably, believing that she could excuse herself to her indulgent father and induce him to make no mention of the affair to him upon his return. He, however, had returned to London a day too early – returned to learn the bitter and astounding truth.

Time after time, still holding her tiny white hand in his, and looking into those dark timid eyes, he urged her to give him some satisfaction. But she steadily refused, declaring:

“I am unable, Frank. And even if I were able, you would never believe me – never!”

“Why are you unable?” he inquired, suspiciously.

“Because secrecy has been imposed upon me.”

“By one who is in fear of certain consequences – eh?” he asked furiously.

“Yes,” was her faltering response.

“Then is it not right that I, your future husband, should be acquainted with what has occurred, Gwen?” he demanded quickly. “By your silence, you are only arousing suspicions within me that may be cruel and unjust towards you.”

“I regret, Frank, that it must remain so. I have given a pledge that I cannot break – even at your request.”

“Ah! then your love for me is not so strong as I believed it to be!” he cried reproachfully, letting her hand drop. “How many times have you placed your arms about my neck and declared your affection for me?” he asked bitterly.

“I do love you, Frank – I swear I love you as much as I have always done!” she cried wildly, stretching forth her arms to him in her despair.

“Impossible. You have made a solemn pledge to another – a man. Do you deny that it is a man?”

“No. I deny nothing that is the truth,” she whispered hoarsely, “I dare not tell you the truth for – for that man’s sake!”

“You apparently think a great deal of him!” exclaimed Farquhar, with rising anger.

“He is my friend – my best friend, as you will some day learn.”

“And you actually tell me this, Gwen!” he cried, staring at her. “You – whom I’ve loved so truly!”

“I am telling you the truth,” she replied, in a voice again strangely calm. “You need entertain no jealousy of him. He is my friend – my devoted friend – nothing more.”

“And you stay from home for days, and on returning tell me this!” he exclaimed, his brows contracted in fierce anger. “What is this fellow’s name?” he demanded.

“I am not at liberty to tell you,” she responded, “believe me if you will – if not,” – and she shrugged her shoulders without concluding her sentences.

“I have a right to know,” he blurted forth.

She realised the effect her words had had upon him. She saw his fierce jealousy and his dark suspicion. Yet what more could she say in the hideous circumstances. She was now the innocent victim of a silence imposed upon her by the man who had been her protector. How could she betray him into the hands of his enemies? Ah! her situation was surely one of the most difficult and maddening in which a girl had ever found herself.

To tell Frank Farquhar the truth would be to rouse his mad jealousy to a great pitch. He would seek out Mr Mullet, face him, and create a scene which must inevitably bring down upon her friend and protector the vengeance of those who held him so helpless in their unscrupulous hands.

Hence she foresaw the inevitable. It was as plain as it was tragic. Her refusal to give satisfactory replies to Frank’s most natural questions had aroused his darkest suspicion. He, on his part, discerned in her determination a deliberate attempt to mislead him. During his absence she had changed towards him, changed in a most curious way that held him mystified.

“You appear, Gwen, to be utterly unconcerned and careless as to whether I believe you or not,” he said gravely, after a few moments’ silence. “Well, I would like now to speak quite plainly and openly.”

“Speak,” she said, “I am all attention.” She was struggling valiantly with herself.

Her coolness was feigned. Ah! what would she give if she were at liberty to tell Frank the whole strange and ghastly truth!

“I have put to you a question which you refuse to answer,” he said in a low, hard voice. “You have admitted that, by this silence of yours, you are protecting another man. Well – in that case I can only say that I must leave you in future to your friend’s protection. I hope he loves you better – better than I!”

“Leave me!” she gasped in a hoarse whisper. “You – you will leave me! Ah! no – no Frank,” – she shrieked in her despair, “you can’t mean that – you won’t let – ”

But her lover had already turned upon his heel, and without further words he left the room – and the house.

She heard the front door slam, and then with a sudden cry of despair she flung herself upon the couch and buried her head among the silken cushions sobbing.

Chapter Twenty Two

Increases the Mystery

The morning was foggy, damp and dark in London, one of those to which dwellers in the Metropolis are so accustomed in the short December days.

In “Red Mullet’s” sitting-room off Oxford Street – that same room in which Gwen Griffin had endured her imprisonment – he and Doctor Diamond were seated.

A fortnight had passed since the red-haired man’s visit to Horsford, but in accordance with a promise made he had, late the previous evening, telegraphed to the hunchback, and in response to the message the latter had left Peterborough by the up-express at nine o’clock that morning.

“Well, Doc,” the tall man was saying as he lay stretched lazily in his chair smoking a cigarette. “I’m giving away my friend in order to oblige you, and I’ve had a lot of difficulty, as you may imagine. My friends are a pretty tough crowd, as you know. But I’ve fulfilled the promise I made to you, and all will be well providing that young lady, Miss Griffin, only holds her tongue.”

“Then you’ve really obtained a copy of the document for me – eh!” interrupted the ugly little man, his face brightening quickly.

“Yes. I was very nearly caught in the act of taking it. It was kept in a safe, and I had to get hold of the key by a ruse. I kept it a day, and got a typed copy made. Then I retained it to its place.”

“By Jove, Mr Mullet, you’re a real friend!” cried the Doctor, starting up. “As you know, we’ve been handicapped hitherto by not knowing the context of the document. Ours has been all guesswork.”

“Well, it needn’t be any more,” remarked the red-haired man with a light laugh, “for here’s a complete copy. You’d better read it out. It’s a very remarkable statement.” And he produced a typewritten manuscript which the Doctor, after clearing his throat, eagerly read as follows:

“THE TREASURE OF ISRAEL.

“Revealed by a Hebrew Cipher in the Old Testament.

“I, Peter Holmboe, graduate of Helsingfors University, in Finland, late Professor of Hebrew at St. Petersburg University, and now resident at Langenfelder Strasse, 17, Altona, Germany, make oath and declare as follows:

“Curious, and perhaps improbable as it may at first appear, I claim to have discovered the actual whereabouts of the hidden treasure of the Jewish Temple, which includes among other things the Ark of the Covenant, the Tablets of moses, and the enormous treasure of gold and silver known to exist before the capture of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar, King of Babylon.

“The Secret.

“The secret of the place of concealment is contained in a cipher which runs through certain chapters of the Book of Ezekiel, and which clearly relates the whole story and gives absolute and most complete directions with measurements by which the spot is indicated. And not only this. The same story, in a much more abbreviated form, is, curiously enough, also repeated in the same cipher in certain chapters of Deuteronomy.

“It is a historical fact that when Nebuchadnezzar seized Jerusalem nearly the whole of the treasure of the Temple had disappeared, and it would seem that into the Book of Ezekiel the secret was incorporated, so that the treasure, which formed the war-chest of the Jews, could be recovered at the coming of the Messiah.

“Many points are, of course, highly interesting and curious. Perhaps my discovery – which, by the way, was by pure accident – will create much controversy and arouse great excitement among scholars and archaeologists. Nevertheless the cipher exists, as I am ready, under certain conditions and on certain financial considerations, to indicate its existence to any competent Hebrew scholar who may be appointed to investigate my discovery.

“The Cipher.

“For many years I had been greatly interested in the various astronomical, astrological and cabalistical signs and cycles so apparent in the chronology of the ancient peoples. In the Bible, and more especially during the five hundred or so years before Christ, I found evidences of the astrology that was used in the division of time, and therefore set to work, using the comparing method in order to obtain an insight into the different ciphers most universally used, and also into the methods of concealing secret messages and statements. Many of the ciphers used were highly ingenious and most difficult to decipher. The Jews in Jerusalem used them, so did the Jewish Greeks in Alexandria and the Buddhists in India, as well as the Gnostics, etc.

“I had been studying certain curious expressions in the ‘Mischna,’ which seemed to me to contain certain hidden meanings, when one day, in studying the Book of Ezekiel in the original, I was amazed to come across an expression which, habituated as I was to the presence of ciphers, told me at once that a hidden message was contained there.

“After countless failures through several years, I one day applied one of the earlier known cabalistic ciphers – which, by the way, is so complicated and ingenious that the whole message must be deciphered before the first word becomes apparent – and, to my intense astonishment, on making the complete decipher I found myself able to read a clean declaration (extending through nine chapters) of the secret hiding-place of the Great Treasure of Israel!

“The cipher declaration opens with an intimation of 490 years before the arrival of the Messiah, and continues as follows:

”‘The lapse of years are nearing its filling. The relief of the Doom will come in spite of all. The people’s right is nearing. The Period of the Blood-Debts and that of the Suppression will lose its power.’

“It is then stated that Moses’ tablets, the archives of the Temple, the Ark of the Covenant and ‘the Chair of Grace between two cherubims of fine gold,’ ‘the insignias Urim and Thummim with two rubies of extraordinary size surrounded by a multitude of other precious stones,’ the ‘written archives of the earliest period of the Jews’ till about B.C. 600, ‘the great treasures of the Temple, gold and silver vessels, coined gold, and precious stones of every description’ were all ‘concealed beneath the earth in a dry-room in connection with which is a series of water-tunnels.’

“The secret declaration goes on to give the most complete details of how the treasure may be reached. It is stated that there are three entrances, one of which is impossible as it is inaccessible, being closed up by masonry in a labyrinth of caves; the second is also too difficult. But the third is accessible by draining the water and will not present much difficulty.

“The cipher continuing, declares:

”‘The tablets shall remain in their hiding-place till the arrival of the Messiah, who alone may open their place of concealment, in order that He may furnish proof of the faith, and if necessary the treasure shall provide a war fund when the Messiah conquers the world and establishes his residence in Jerusalem.’

“The cipher concludes by declaring:

”‘Six curses, yea! sixty times six curses, shall be upon the head of any one who dare to attempt to violate the treasure-house.’

“That the messages, each identical, run through both Ezekiel and Deuteronomy is indisputable, and I am quite ready to explain them, provided my secret is properly protected.

“Among the many curious and interesting features which go far to prove that the treasure is still lying undisturbed, I may perhaps indicate the Biblical fact that, after the Babylonian imprisonment, the tablets of Moses were never again exhibited in the Temple. Yet did not Nehemiah convince himself that they were intact and in good condition?

“We know that Nebuchadnezzar received certain vessels from the Temple at Jerusalem (Ezra, i, 7-11) but no mention is made of the tablets, of the Ark, or of any other of the things mentioned in the cipher!

“Again, when Titus destroyed Jerusalem he did not obtain the Ark. On the Arch of Triumph still existing in Rome are representations of the candlesticks, but there is no representation of the Ark.

“Through the whole prophecy of Ezekiel I can point out many evidences of the existence of the treasure.

“And, finally, it is extremely curious that the Crusaders searched actively for it, but mostly in the neighbourhood of Engeddin.

“Whether the treasure of Israel still exists or not, the cipher declaration stands out in black and white, one of the best known and most difficult of all the various modes used by the ancients for concealing messages.

“I claim that it is a most amazing discovery which must be of deepest interest to the whole civilised world, and should be at once investigated. I have not, of course, space to give complete Biblical references, etc. These I will supply later on, if necessary.

“Any Jew who may be consulted will no doubt scorn the idea of the existence of the treasure. He will do so because he will argue that no cipher can exist in a book inspired. Again, he may declare that all the treasure was all carried off to Babylon. This is, I maintain, disproved by historical facts.

“Again, there may be considerable argument as to whether the Books of Ezekiel and of Deuteronomy were written about the same period. According to the latest theory, Deuteronomy was written before Ezekiel, nevertheless this discovery of the same cipher record in both now conclusively proves that they were written at very nearly the same time.

“Further, I am aware of the Talmudic tradition which states that the treasures I have enumerated, with the addition of Aaron’s staff, the pot of manna and the flask of anointing oil, are hidden beneath the Temple Mount. But the cipher in question shows plainly that they are not concealed upon the site of the Temple, which is now occupied by the Mosque of Omar, but at some considerable distance away.

“The Key.

“As regards the key to the cipher and the manner in which to decipher it, I have, believing my existence to be now short-lived – for alas! I am suffering from a disease that I am told is incurable – placed the key, with such directions as are necessary to read it, in a place where it will remain hidden until such time as I have arranged with a capitalist or syndicate of financiers to despatch an expedition to secretly purchase the land in question and excavate for the holy relics. To them alone it will be revealed.

“The key, which will disclose a statement that must cause the whole world to be surprised and thrilled, is divided into two parts, the one useless without the other. One part now lies in one city and another in a second. Therefore, for any person to attempt to discover the truth without first entering into business relations with me will be utterly impossible. And even if both keys were illegally obtained, the requisite knowledge could not then be ascertained without a third direction, that can be supplied by myself alone.