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Updated: June 8, 2025
This was perhaps the reason that, after a time, Zaleski discarded the newspapers, leaving their perusal to me, and turned his attention exclusively to the ebon tablet.
My eyes were now heavy with sleep, every sense half-drunken with the vapourlike atmosphere of the room, so that, having abandoned something of hope, I tottered willingly to my bed, and fell into a profound slumber, which lasted till what must have been the time of the gathering in of the shades of night. I then rose. Missing Zaleski, I sought through all the chambers for him.
Whereupon Randolph did return, and in three months from the date of his landing in England, Lord Pharanx was dead. 'Murdered? A certain something in the tone in which this word was uttered by Zaleski puzzled me. It left me uncertain whether he had addressed to me an exclamation of conviction, or a simple question.
Zaleski seized it tore it open ran his eye over the contents and dashed it to the ground with an oath. 'Curse it! he groaned. 'Ah, curse it! unintelligible every syllable of it! I picked up the missive and examined it. It was a slip of papyrus covered with the design now so hideously familiar, except only that the two central figures were wanting.
Here he kept an Argus guard while Zaleski, in one deep unbroken slumber of a night and a day, reposed before him. When at last the sleeper woke, in his eye, full of divine instinct, flitted the wonted falchion-flash of the whetted, two-edged intellect; the secret, austere, self-conscious smile of triumph curved his lip; not a trace of pain or fatigue remained.
Henceforth the negro, Ham, using my trap, daily took a double journey one before sunrise, and one at dusk to the nearest townlet, from which he would return loaded with newspapers. With unimaginable eagerness did both Zaleski and I seize, morning after morning, and evening after evening, on these budgets, to gloat for long hours over the ever-lengthening tale of death.
I reproduce these remarks of Zaleski here, not so much on account of the splendid tribute to my country contained in them, as because it ever seemed to me and especially in connection with the incident I am about to recall that in this respect at least he was a genuine son of Russia; if she is the Land, so truly was he the Man, of Mystery.
I then detailed to him some of the strange events which were agitating the mind of the outside world. From the very first he was interested: later on that interest grew into a passion, a greedy soul-consuming quest after the truth, the intensity of which was such at last as to move me even to pity. I may as well here restate the facts as I communicated them to Zaleski.
Zaleski, having delivered himself of this singular tirade, paused: replaced the sepulchral relief in its niche: drew a drapery of silver cloth over his bare feet and the hem of his antique garment of Babylon: and then continued: 'After some time the answer to the advertisement at length arrived; but what was my disgust to find that it was perfectly unintelligible to me.
Why then, being alive, and not gagged, did he give no token of the presence of his visitors? There were in fact no burglars at Orven Hall that night. 'But the track! I cried, 'the jewels found in the snow the neckerchief! Zaleski smiled. 'Burglars, he said, 'are plain, honest folk who have a just notion of the value of jewelry when they see it.
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