“Because in that house there has been for a hundred and fifty years the portrait of a man whom I once met in the centre of India, on the banks of the Ganges.” And the man in the cloak again paused and shuddered.
“A singular resemblance, no doubt.”
“Yes, my lord, a singular resemblance—nothing more.”
“But the Jew—the old Jew?”
“I am coming to that, my lord. Still weeping, he said to a gravedigger, ‘Well! and the coffin?’ ‘You were right,’ answered the man; ‘I found it in the second row of the other grave. It had the figure of a cross on it, formed by seven black nails. But how could you know the place and the mark?’ ‘Alas! it is no matter,’ replied the old Jew, with bitter melancholy. ‘You see that I was but too well informed on the subject. But where is the coffin?’ ‘Behind the great tomb of black marble; I have hidden it there. So make haste; for, in the confusion, nothing will be noticed. You have paid me well, and I wish you to succeed in what you require.’”
“And what did the old Jew do with the coffin marked with the seven black nails?”
“Two men accompanied him, my lord, bearing a covered litter, with curtains drawn round it. He lighted a lantern, and, followed by these two men, went towards the place pointed out by the gravedigger. A stoppage, occasioned by the dead-carts, made me lose sight of the old Jew, whom I was following amongst the tombs. Afterwards I was unable to find him.”
“It is indeed a strange affair. What could this old Jew want with the coffin?”
“It is said, my lord, that they use dead bodies in preparing their magic charms.”
“Those unbelievers are capable of anything—even of holding communication with the Enemy of mankind. However, we will look after this: the discovery may be of importance.”