The Mystery of the Ravenspurs. White Fred Merrick

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СКАЧАТЬ at once. There is nothing but lumber there."

      "Boxes belonging to Marion, uncle. Cases that have remained unpacked ever since she came over from India."

      Ralph smiled in his most inscrutable manner.

      "Mere trifles," he croaked. "But, there, I am one of the men who deny there are such things as trifles. You may lose a pin out of your watch, a trifle hardly visible to the eye a yard off. And yet your costly watch, with its marvelous mechanism, is useless without that 'trifle.' Now go."

      An hour later and Geoffrey was busy in the corridor with the big telescope, the telescope that nobody had troubled about at Ravenspur for many years. Geoffrey, in his shirt sleeves, was polishing up the brasses. Vera was with her mother somewhere.

      There had been no trouble in getting permission from Rupert Ravenspur. It was doubtful if he even heard Geoffrey's request. Everything the young people asked they got, as a rule. Why not, when a day might cut off their lives and their little pleasures for all time! The head of the family was fast becoming a fatalist. So far as he was concerned, there was no hope that the terror would ever lift. He had escaped once; the next time the foe would not fail. But there would be rest in the grave.

      Marion found Geoffrey in the corridor. The yellow and purple lights from the leaded windows filled the place with a soft, warm glow. Marion's dark hair was shot with purple; her white dress, as she lounged in a window seat, was turned to gold. She formed a wonderfully fair and attractive picture, if Geoffrey had only heeded it. But, then, Geoffrey had no eyes for any one but Vera.

      "What are you going to do?" Marion asked. "Read your fortune in the stars? Get inspiration from the heavenly bodies to combat the power of darkness?"

      "I'm going to have a shot at astronomy again," Geoffrey replied, in his most boyish and most enthusiastic manner. "I was considered a bit of swell at it at school. And when I saw this jolly old telescope lying neglected here, I made up my mind to polish my knowledge. I'm going to set it up in the tower turret."

      "But it is packed full of boxes – my boxes."

      "Well, there is plenty of room for those boxes elsewhere – in fact, we've got space enough to give every box a room to itself. There is an empty bedroom just below. Presently I'm going to shunt all your lumber in there."

      Marion nodded approvingly. Of course if Geoffrey said a thing it was done. He might have turned the castle upside down and the girls would have aided and abetted him.

      "I should like to be present when those boxes are moved," she said. "There are hundreds of rare and curious things that belonged to my mother – things that the British Museum would long to possess. Remember, my ancestors were rulers in Tibet for thousands of years. Some day I'll show you my curios. But don't begin to move those boxes till I am ready to assist."

      "I shall not be ready for an hour, Marion."

      "Very well, then, I shall be back in an hour, astronomer."

      Geoffrey finished his work presently. Then he ran up to the turret-room and opened the door. The place was dusty and dirty to a degree, and filled with packing-cases. Apparently they were all of foreign make – wooden boxes, with queer inscriptions, lacquered boxes, and one fragile wooden box clamped and decorated in filigree brass.

      "A queer thing," Geoffrey murmured. "And old, very old, too."

      "Over a thousand years. There is only one more like it in the world, and no Christian eyes save four have ever looked upon it. When you take that box from the room, see that it is the last, Geoffrey. You hear?"

      It was Ralph who spoke. He had appeared silently and mysteriously as usual. He spoke calmly, but his twitching lips were eloquent of suppressed excitement.

      "Very well," Geoffrey said carelessly. He was getting used to these strange quick appearances and these equally strange requests. "It shall be as you desire, uncle."

      Ralph nodded. He gave a swift turn of his head as if looking for some one unconsciously, then he crossed the room and stooped down beside the brass-bound box, which was at the bottom of a pile of packages. His long fingers felt over the quaint brasses.

      "A most remarkable-looking pattern," said Geoffrey.

      "It is not a pattern at all," Ralph replied.

      "The quaint filigree work is a language – the written signs of old Tibet, only you are not supposed to know that; indeed, I only found it out myself a few days ago. It had been a long search; but, as I can only see with my fingers, you can understand that. But this is part of the secret."

      Geoffrey was profoundly interested.

      "Tell me what the language says?" he asked.

      "Not now – perhaps not at all. It is a ghastly and terrible thing, and even your nerves are not fireproof. There is only one thing I have to ask you before I efface myself for the present. When you take up that box to carry it down stairs it is to slip through your fingers. You are to drop it."

      "I am to drop that box. Is there anything else?"

      "Not for the present. You are smiling; I feel that you are smiling. For Heaven's sake take this seriously; take everything that I say seriously, boy. Oh, I know what is in your mind – I am going in a clumsy way to get something. I might so easily get what I require by a little judicious burglary. That is what your unsophisticated mind tells you. Later you will know better."

      Ralph turned cheerfully round and left the room. He paused in the doorway. "Don't forget," he said, "that my visit here is a secret. In fact, everything is a secret until I give you permission to make it public."

      This time he left. Geoffrey had managed to drag one or two of the boxes away before Marion appeared. She reproached him gently that he had not waited for her. There might be spooks and bogies in those packages capable of harm.

      "I dare say there are," Geoffrey laughed. "But you were such a long time. Every girl seems to imagine that an hour is like a piece of elastic – you can stretch it out as long as you like. At any rate I have done no harm. As far as I can judge there's only one good thing here."

      "And what is that?" Marion asked.

      Geoffrey pointed to the floor.

      "That one," he said. "The queer brass-bound box at the bottom."

      CHAPTER XIV

      "IT MIGHT BE YOU"

      Marion caught her breath quickly. The marble pallor of her face showed up more strongly against her dark hair. Geoffrey caught the look and his eyes grew sympathetic.

      "What's the matter, little girl?" he asked. "It isn't like you to faint."

      "Neither am I going to faint, Geoff. But I had forgotten all about that box. I cannot go into details, for there are some things that we don't talk about to anybody. But that box is connected with rather an unhappy time in my youth."

      "Hundreds of years ago," Geoffrey said flippantly.

      "Oh, but it is no laughing matter, I assure you. When my mother was a child she was surrounded by all the craft and superstition of her race and religion. That was long before she got converted and married my father. I don't know how it was managed, but my mother never quite broke with her people, and once or twice, when she went to stay in Tibet, I accompanied her.

      "My mother СКАЧАТЬ