"The moon was ever so bright when I went to bed," ventured Betty. "The storm must have come very quickly."
"Quickly enough to give me quite a house party," Mrs. Atterbury replied. "Madame Cimmino remained also, and Professor Stolz, but they have not risen yet. I hope you will have an opportunity to talk with the Professor, Betty, you would find him most interesting. He is an eminent scientist and justly celebrated in his own country."
Betty would have liked to ask what branch of science had claimed him, but she discreetly remained silent, with a mental reservation to find out for herself, if possible.
Madame Cimmino appeared shortly, looking more sallow and shrunken than ever, and while her hostess greeted her, Betty slipped away to the library to sort the morning's mail.
The room had not yet been put in order for the day, and the girl's attention was caught by a heap of torn papers, half charred, on the cold hearth. The writing upon the scraps seemed oddly familiar, and she stopped hastily and examined them. They were the letters she herself had painstakingly copied from the originals which Mrs. Atterbury had taken from the safe and given to her on the previous day. Like the rearrangement of the bookcases, the letters had been merely a subterfuge to keep her employed and under watchful eyes.
Nevertheless, she doggedly assailed her uncongenial task and was midway through the morning's mail, when a heavy foot sounded in the hall, and Professor Stolz stuck his shaggy head in the door.
"Pardon. I a book would wish to have and Mrs. Atterbury says it here is," he translated idiomatically from his native tongue. "I disturb you, no?"
"Not at all." Betty rose. "Perhaps I can help you, Professor. What sort of book are you looking for?"
"It is Egyptian—a history of the twelfth dynasty."
"Egyptian!"