Geoffrey finished his work presently. Then he ran up to the turret-room and opened the door. The place was dusty and dirty to a degree, and filled with packing-cases. Apparently they were all of foreign make--wooden boxes, with queer inscriptions, lacquered boxes, and one fragile wooden box clamped and decorated in filigree brass. "A queer thing," Geoffrey murmured. "And old, very old, too." "Over a thousand years. There is only one more like it in the world, and no Christian eyes save four have ever looked upon it. When you take that box from the room, see that it is the last, Geoffrey. You hear?" It was Ralph who spoke. He had appeared silently and mysteriously as usual. He spoke calmly, but his twitching lips were eloquent of suppressed excitement. "Very well," Geoffrey said carelessly. He was getting used to these strange quick appearances and these equally strange requests. "It shall be as you desire, uncle." Ralph nodded. He gave a swift turn of his head as if looking for some one unconsciously, then he crossed the room and stooped down beside the brass-bound box, which was at the bottom of a pile of packages. His long fingers felt over the quaint brasses. "A most remarkable-looking pattern," said Geoffrey. "It is not a pattern at all," Ralph replied. "The quaint filigree work is a language--the written signs of old Tibet, only you are not supposed to know that; indeed, I only found it out myself a few days ago. It had been a long search; but, as I can only see with my fingers, you can understand that. But this is part of the secret." Geoffrey was profoundly interested. "Tell me what the language says?" he asked. "Not now--perhaps not at all. It is a ghastly and terrible thing, and even your nerves are not fireproof. There is only one thing I have to ask you before I efface myself for the present. When you take up that box to carry it down stairs it is to slip through your fingers. You are to drop it." "I am to drop that box. Is there anything else?" "Not for the present. You are smiling; I feel that you are smiling. For Heaven's sake take this seriously; take everything that I say seriously, boy. Oh, I know what is in your mind--I am going in a clumsy way to get something. I might so easily get what I require by a little judicious burglary. That is what your unsophisticated mind tells you. Later you will know better." Ralph turned cheerfully round and left the room. He paused in the doorway. "Don't forget," he said, "that my visit here is a secret. In fact, everything is a secret until I give you permission to make it public." This time he left. Geoffrey had managed to drag one or two of the boxes away before Marion appeared. She reproached him gently that he had not waited for her. There might be spooks and bogies in those packages capable of harm.