The young man leaned slightly forward studying her face, then quietly he touched a button in the wall and the room was suddenly flooded with light.
"That is better, isn't it?" he asked.
Betty glanced up, blinking in the sudden glare, then nodded abstractedly and bent again over the hieroglyphic scrawl. Several minutes passed while she sat absorbed, no sound breaking the stillness but the occasional rustle of the papers beneath her hand. At length she rearranged them with a sigh of satisfaction.
"This purports to be a message from Khshiarsha, or Xerxes, the first ruler of the twenty-seventh dynasty to be called 'the Great Pharaoh' and if the date of the original papyrus has been authenticated, it is a wonderful find, and a valuable addition to Egyptiana. This copy will serve perfectly for translation, but I should like very much to see the original sometime, if it is in the possession of the museum——"
The eager words died on her lips, and her glowing face paled, then flushed hotly. She had looked up to find that the young man's eyes were fixed with an expression which she could not fathom upon the birthmark on her cheek, and it burned her like a newly-seared brand. With a swift gesture she lowered her veil.
"I will see that you have access to it." The young man rose. "I could place it in your hands now, but the curator is out. However, if, as you say, this copy is suitable for translation, do you care to undertake the work? I cannot, of course, judge of your proficiency, but I am willing to take it for granted."
"Thank you," Betty responded, simply. "I am confident that my translation will be satisfactory. It will take me a few days to complete it; shall I bring it here to you?"
"If you will, please. Should I not be here, leave it with the assistant curator for Mr. Ross. The fee for translation will be fifty dollars. Now, if you will give me your name and address——?" He paused expectantly, and Betty's heart sank.
This was a contingency which had not occurred to her. To name her present abode would mean that letters or instructions might be forwarded to her there, and inevitable discovery on Mrs. Atterbury's part would ensue with the probable consequence of immediate dismissal. This risk despite the shadow of tragic mystery which enveloped the house and her own undoubted peril should the extent of her knowledge become known, she would not hazard. A determination stronger than fear of death itself bound her to Mrs. Atterbury's service.
But the pause was lengthening, and the young man eyed her in puzzled inquiry.