But Peter proceeded with the assurance of the conqueror. “In the center,” he said, “were the words, ‘Jesus Christ, God and Saviour.’ ” He paused and with his eyes invited her corroboration. But this time Marjorie corrected him—very disdainfully.
“Oh no,” she remarked—“in the center were two words in Latin. They had been scratched, or inscribed perhaps is the happier word, with a sharp-pointed instrument—at least that’s what it looked like. The two words were ‘Timeo Danaos.’ ” Here she stopped as all good story-tellers should when they have scored a good point.
“Translate, Mr. Bathurst,” said Goodall with the suggestion of a grin, “my classics are rusty.”
“ ‘Timeo Danaos,’ ” repeated Anthony, “ ‘et dona ferentes’—which being interpreted means, ‘I fear the Greeks especially when they bring gifts.’ ”
“What the deuce are Greeks doing on this screen?” grumbled Goodall.
Anthony shook his head. “Can’t see for the moment, I admit. Anything else, Miss Lennox?”
Marjorie nodded her little head in the affirmative. “Yes,” she said, “right underneath the two words—almost exactly in the center of the screen—was a big fish.”
“A fish?” queried Anthony, wrinkling his forehead, “what sort of a fish?”
Marjorie shook her head. “Just an ordinary fish—that’s all I could say about it. All the animals—the Lion, and the Leopards and the Fish—and the flowers too, were done in a kind of repoussé work—you know what I mean—they stood out as it were away from the surface of the screen itself.”
Anthony nodded that he understood what she meant.