Detective and mystery stories, English; Horror tales, English
And yet for some years there had been an acquaintanceship which
appeared to be slowly ripening into a friendship between these two very
different rivals. The base and origin of this lay in the fact that in
their own studies each was the only one of the younger men who had
knowledge and enthusiasm enough to properly appreciate the other.
Their common interests and pursuits had brought them together, and each
had been attracted by the other's knowledge. And then gradually
something had been added to this. Kennedy had been amused by the
frankness and simplicity of his rival, while Burger in turn had been
fascinated by the brilliancy and vivacity which had made Kennedy such a
favourite in Roman society. I say "had," because just at the moment
the young Englishman was somewhat under a cloud. A love-affair, the
details of which had never quite come out, had indicated a
heartlessness and callousness upon his part which shocked many of his
friends. But in the bachelor circles of students and artists in which
he preferred to move there is no very rigid code of honour in such
matters, and though a head might be shaken or a pair of shoulders
shrugged over the flight of two and the return of one, the general
sentiment was probably one of curiosity and perhaps of envy rather than
of reprobation.
"Look here, Burger," said Kennedy, looking hard at the placid face of
his companion, "I do wish that you would confide in me."
As he spoke he waved his hand in the direction of a rug which lay upon
the floor. On the rug stood a long, shallow fruit-basket of the light
wicker-work which is used in the Campagna, and this was heaped with a
litter of objects, inscribed tiles, broken inscriptions, cracked
mosaics, torn papyri, rusty metal ornaments, which to the uninitiated
might have seemed to have come straight from a dustman's bin, but which
a specialist would have speedily recognized as unique of their kind.
The pile of odds and ends in the flat wicker-work basket supplied
exactly one of those missing links of social development which are of
such interest to the student. It was the German who had brought them
in, and the Englishman's eyes were hungry as he looked at them.
"I won't interfere with your treasure-trove, but I should very much
like to hear about it," he continued, while Burger very deliberately
lit a cigar. "It is evidently a discovery of the first importance.
These inscriptions will make a sensation throughout Europe."
"For every one here there are a million there!" said the German.
"There are so many that a dozen savants might spend a lifetime over
them, and build up a reputation as solid as the Castle of St. Angelo."
Kennedy sat thinking with his fine forehead wrinkled and his fingers
playing with his long, fair moustache.
"You have given yourself away, Burger!" said he at last. "Your words
can only apply to one thing. You have discovered a new catacomb."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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