“And what was that?” demanded Gerry and I as with a single voice.
Baines looked at Gerry a little uncertainly, shuffling his hat between his hands, and glanced at me interrogatively before he made answer. I understood what he meant, and hastened to put him at his ease.
“You can speak freely before Mr. Carver,” said I. “I have no secrets from him.”
“Well, my lord,” said Baines, with a sort of apologetic hesitation, “I cannot think that ’is lordship was altogether himself these last two or three months. He had possessed himself of a piece of paper covered with what you’d call ‘jommetry’—at least that’s what I believe it’s called, my lord—when we were in Lisbon, and for hours together he would pore over this when we were going out to Greytown, and mutter away to himself in a really most extraordinary manner. Then when we got to Greytown he wouldn’t stop there a day—and they say you should always take a day or two to get acclimatized before you go up-country—but got mules together and started at once for Chichitza——”
“Chichitza?” I exclaimed, remembering Crum’s story, “are you quite sure that was the name?”
“I know it only too well, my lord, considering we spent nigh a month there. A horrible place too. Uncanny, I called it.”
“Uncanny. Why?”
“Oh, it was all shut in with trees, my lord, and there was nothing but great ruins all covered with figures and carving that looked diabolical I thought, even in the day-time, and as for night—well, I never dared stir from my tent. There was moans and rustlings going on in them all the time. ’Is lordship used to say that it was only the monkeys and sloths that lodged among them, but I didn’t care to go and find out. I kept pretty close in camp after dark, I can tell you.”
“And what did my uncle do all the time?”
“His company and conversation was reserved pretty much all the time for the French gentleman we found there,” said Baines, with an air of some contempt. “He seemed to find a good deal to say to him, my lord. Then when they weren’t examining and digging among the temples and things, they used to press lumps of squashy stuff on the carvings, and pick them off when they dried. Really, my lord, without meaning any offence, I think I should have had to give notice if we’d stayed there much longer. The dulness and the bad food, and one thing and another, was too much for any ordinary Christian as wasn’t concerned in carvings and such like.”