Cursed be the treasureDrake, H. B. (Henry Burgess)
General
Cursed be the treasure
Drake, H. B. (Henry Burgess)
Adventure stories; England -- Fiction; Love stories; Mystery fiction; Treasure troves -- Fiction
Somehow I felt suddenly annoyed with him, though as a rule I could bear
his rebukes without ill-feeling. It seemed so absurd to stick at such
a trifle. What if the house was not mine! I hadn't been trained to
the creed of _meum_ and _tuum_. And the challenge of a mystery to be
solved was one that I couldn't refuse. Romance, adventure, this was my
life-breath; and if there were pedants and landlords and other petty
obstructions of authority to break through, so much the better.
"I'm a fool, am I?" I said, and added stupidly, "Well, I think you're a
coward."
He stiffened, and turned on his heel; and my anger died down like a
flame beneath a drench of water.
"Worthing," I cried; but he walked on. And then I remembered how he
had spent that night alone in the haunted room; and I had called him a
coward.... I knew I had merely done so under that foolish impulse of
self-justification which makes us whiten our own conduct by blackening
that of those who oppose us. As he walked away I was in two minds
whether to follow him or not. But my business was urgent, and I told
myself I could easily unsay the silly word later on. So I pushed
forward, and had soon forgotten the little tiff.
I took precautions this time not to enter the grounds where I was
likely to be seen, and I was soon among the ruins climbing up to the
roof by a way I knew well through long experience. Then came the real
obstacle, the wall of the false stack, high, smooth, and with no
foothold, approached by a steep, slanting roof which would throw me
to the ground far below if I slipped. And owing partly to the ruinous
state of the house, and partly to its original disposition, this was
the only way of reaching the stack in which I knew lay concealed the
entrance to the secret chamber. I crawled out on to the sloping roof,
keeping to the edge where I could get a certain purchase for my feet
against the level eaves, and when under the stack I lay flat on my
stomach and looked upward along the slates slanting away above me to
the wall standing stiffly up beyond.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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