“Well, my lord, I didn’t expect ever to see the gentleman again, and he was very outrageous about the papers. I only said that you came of an obliging family, my lord, and if he meant to wait all that time in America, your lordship was just the man to do as much in England. He didn’t make any answer, my lord, but just bit at his knuckles, and went away dancing.”
Gerry walked to the window and looked gravely into the night. I assumed a sphinxlike expression, answering with sedateness.
“It was an unpardonable reply, Baines,” said I sadly, “but it cannot be helped now. I must write and apologize to M. Lessaution for it. I think that will do for the present. Of course I shall continue to pay your wages till affairs are settled, and shall probably want to see you again more than once. Lodge as near as you can. My man will give you a glass of wine,” and I rang the bell and delivered him into Barker’s hands, the latter’s usual impassivity being marred by a bubbling excitement as he received this travelled confrère, who might be expected to entertain him with astounding histories of adventure by flood and field.
“A peculiarly pleasant gentleman, Mr. Baines,” said Gerry, turning pink-complexioned from the window as the door closed. “So versatile and gifted in the lighter arts of conversation and repartee. Now, old chap, do you realize that you’ve got to go through with this thing? Not only is it proved beyond a doubt that there is something to be looked into, but it appears more than likely that the investigation thereof may become amusing. What more could any reasonable person desire? We’re both of us down in the mouth, and require relaxation and a tonic for diseased minds. Here is an unexampled chance ready to our hands. Apply, therefore, for leave; run over to Chichitza, and interview the good Lessaution before he is tired of waiting. And I tell you what I’ll do—I’ll come and look after you.”
“You overwhelm me with your consideration,” I sneered, “I can’t possibly permit myself to trespass on your kindness.”
“Don’t trouble yourself to be sarcastic, old man,” said Gerry composedly. “If you desire it, I’ll openly avow that I’m crazy to go and forget all the brooding and whining of the last month, and therefore I mean to make your life a burden till you consent. That’s all for to-night; but to-morrow we’ll go and see Crum again, and hear what he has to say. So goodnight, old man.”
I suffered myself to be led an unwilling captive to Crum’s office the next day, and the old man heard our version of Baines’s story patiently. And thus he made answer, speaking didactically.
“I must say,” said he, leaning forward and tapping the points of his fingers ceaselessly together, “that what Baines has to tell us seems to me to be most conclusive that your uncle, in conjunction with M. Lessaution, has lighted on some further clue to this mysterious document. Though apparently they have not solved it in its entirety, they have satisfied themselves that it is Mayan in character, and has some bearing on the adventure described by Sir John Dorinecourte. The French gentleman evidently has accumulated knowledge which makes him the only authority on this subject, and it is to him you must address yourself if you would go further in the matter. I think, my lord, that you would very possibly find it interesting so to do, but it rests with you. It is regrettable that M. Lessaution is not returning to Europe at once, and that he remains at Chichitza. It is also evident that he has—or thinks he has—information which may make him independent of you in this question, or, on the other hand, his threat of working without you may be merely a piece of bluff to induce you to go and interview him. In conclusion, I must say, that all things considered, it is the only course I see open to you, my lord, if, as I say, you think the matter of sufficient interest to be inquired into.”
“And of that there is no possible, probable doubt, no shadow of doubt whatever,” interposed Gerry. “But don’t you think we should have a look at the thing which has been at the bottom of all the excitement? It’s among the boxes which have been deposited here, Mr. Crum.”
Crum smiled. “I have so far expected this visit, that I made bold—in my character of executor—to open your late uncle’s dispatch-box, which was deposited here last night. I have found the thing in question, and, speaking for myself, am of the opinion that there can be no question but that the coins and the document are in the same symbol,” and opening his writing-table drawer he produced a tin case. Out of it he took a sheet of yellow, rough-looking material wrapped in tissue paper. He spread it out before us.