Antique dealers -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories, English; London (England) -- Fiction
“Go on!” said Halesowen, harshly, for Zeda had paused again.
“You do not grasp?” asked the doctor. “Well, then, know that the
sentence was ‘Until the parts of this vase be made whole again.’ Five
fragments there were: a large one, which is your potsherd, and four
smaller. The four smaller, after twenty years of untiring search, I
have recovered and joined together. What if we now make whole that
which was broken? May I not, by the exercise of such poor shreds of
the lost wisdom as I have gathered up, summon before me that wandering
spirit ere it return again to plead for rest at the judgment seat of
Amenti?”
When I say that the man’s words proved electrical, I do not exaggerate
the effect which this astounding proposition had upon us. Halesowen
was fairly startled out of his chair, and stood with his eyes fixed on
the other in a fascinated gaze.
Zeda, entirely returning to his customary urbanity, shrugged and
smiled. “You believe my story?”
Lesty was the first to recover himself, and his reply was
characteristic. “Can’t say I do,” he drawled, frankly. “I don’t say
that _you_ may not, though,” he added.
“Then do you not owe it to assist in proving my words? A little
séance? You are sceptical, quite? Very well; I try to show you. If I
fail, then it is unfortunate, but--I bow to an inevitable!”
We looked at each other, interrogatively, and then Halesowen answered,
“All right. It’s a queer yarn, but we leave the matter entirely in
your hands.”
The doctor bowed. “Shall we say to-night to begin?” he said,
tentatively.
“By all means.”
The doctor expressed himself delighted, and, carefully relocking the
fragment of the vase in its double case, he was about to depart, when
a point occurred to me.
“Might I ask whom you suspect of the attempted burglary?” I said.
He turned, in the door, and fixed a strange glance upon me. “There are
others,” he replied, “who seek as I seek, and who do not scruple to
gain their ends how they may. Of them we shall beware, my friends, for
we know they design upon us!”
With that and a low bow he retired.
Little of interest occurred during the day, until about four in the
afternoon, when Halesowen aroused us out of a lazy doze to show a
letter just received from the British Museum.
It was in reply to one asking why he had received no acknowledgment of
the photographs and drawings submitted; and it informed him that no
such photographs and drawings had come to hand!
We usually took tea in the afternoon, and Halesowen joined us on this
occasion, whilst, at about five o’clock, Doctor Zeda also looked in.
He remained until it began to grow dusk, when we all went over to
Halesowen’s to arrange the first “sitting”--for so the doctor referred
to the projected séance. Retiring, for a few minutes, to his own
establishment, Zeda returned with the iron box and explained what he
proposed to do.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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