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The clue is intended for seeing eyes!" Again we were silent. It was Margaret who spoke: "Father, may I have that chart? I should like to study it during the day!" "Certainly, my dear!" answered Mr. Trelawny heartily, as he handed it to her.

He tells the story of the three gilded helmets, bearing the family motto, "Crede Byron," which the poet offered to show him, that he had had made for himself and Trelawny and Count Pietro Gamba. The conclusion is irresistible that there was a large infusion of vanity in the whole scheme, and that Byron had his eye upon the world, here as elsewhere.

We followed her, and found Silvio sitting in his basket awake. He was licking his paws. The Detective said: "He is there sure enough; but why licking his paws?" Margaret Miss Trelawny gave a moan as she bent over and took one of the forepaws in her hand; but the cat seemed to resent it and snarled. At that Mrs. Grant came into the room.

Margaret's face had a troubled look as she gazed after him. Strangely enough her trouble did not as usual touch me to the quick. When Mr. Trelawny had gone, silence reigned. I do not think that any of us wanted to talk. Presently Margaret went to her room, and I went out on the terrace over the sea.

"On the throat of each were the marks, now blackening, of a hand of seven fingers. "Trelawny and I drew close, and clutched each other in awe and fear as we looked. "For, most wonderful of all, across the breast of the mummied Queen lay a hand of seven fingers, ivory white, the wrist only showing a scar like a jagged red line, from which seemed to depend drops of blood." The Magic Coffer

He ran across the room and stood opposite a low table on which stood the mummy of an animal, and began to mew and snarl. Miss Trelawny was after him in an instant and lifted him in her arms, kicking and struggling and wriggling to get away; but not biting or scratching, for evidently he loved his beautiful mistress.

His answer was in an indignant tone: "Sure! Of course I'm sure. There isn't another set of lamps like these in the world!" "So far as you know!" The Detective's words were smooth enough, but his manner was so exasperating that I was sure he had some motive in it; so I waited in silence. He went on: "Of course there may be some in the British Museum; or Mr. Trelawny may have had these already.

The lamps, I take it from some things he has said, really belong to Mr. Trelawny. His daughter, the lady of the house, having left the room she usually occupies, sleeps that night on the ground floor. A window is heard to open and shut during the night.

Trelawny never faltered in his belief. We had many things to distract our minds from belief or disbelief. This was soon after Arabi Pasha, and Egypt was so safe place for travellers, especially if they were English. But Mr. Trelawny is a fearless man; and I almost come to think at times that I am not a coward myself.

He spent his days in excursions on the water with Williams, or in solitary musings in his cranky little skiff, floating upon the shallows in shore, or putting out to sea and waiting for the landward breeze to bring him home. The evenings were passed upon the terrace, listening to Jane's guitar, conversing with Trelawny, or reading his favourite poets aloud to the assembled party.