“You have an admirable building here,” he remarked, “and I’m glad to see it is still in use. It belongs to a date when the earth and man used to work together in a way rather different from now. You have made improvements since then, and yet some interesting secrets have been forgotten. This carving now—can either of you young men explain its use and significance?”
He looked from one to another with an expression so bright and pregnant as to have the effect of an overflowing fountain of wisdom, ready to irrigate and render fruitful all the world’s deserts of ignorance. Jack offered no reply, though he was possessed by the conviction that he and this wonderful stranger could not have met for no purpose, so profoundly intimate and kindly was his regard, and so great withal was his moral and intellectual ascendancy. He was a king of men, but democratic and simple as a boon comrade.
“I have puzzled over it many times,” Argon answered; “but neither I nor our wise ones could solve it. The secret was lost, as you say, many thousands of lives ago.”
“Nothing truly done or thought is ever lost, however,” rejoined the stranger. “The secret waits in its place till the need for it returns. As for this particular enigma, I happened to know the sculptor who wrought it well; and he and I helped each other in turn to place this section of the shaft. Apparently it’s never been opened since!”
“You!” exclaimed Argon in a reverential tone. “You are an immortal, then!”
The other glanced up with a laugh. “Why, so are we all! But I’m one of the travelers. When I was a little fellow I used to stare up in the sky at night, and tell myself that some time I’d visit those bright places up there and make friends with the folks that lived in them. Well, there are a good many of them, and I’m still in the early stages of my journey; but there are persons worth knowing in all of them, and my circle of friends is enlarging! One of these days, if you like,” he added, turning to Jack, “I’ll take you about a little and introduce you. But as to this design: it stands, of course, for a word in the universal language, but you would probably be more interested in seeing the thing that it covers. Let’s try if these old joints and hinges are still in working order.”
The pillar was a massive monolith, of a diameter twice the height of a man. He laid hold of it, seizing it in both arms, and put forth his strength to drag it toward the left. The broad muscles of his chest and arms rounded out under the skin, but for a moment the column did not yield. Jack was about to offer his aid, though the enterprise seemed utterly impossible; but just then the great shaft started, and slid smoothly and noiselessly on its base, disclosing an aperture in the plinth below. The whole column had been swung aside.
The stranger stepped back, turning a pleased smile upon the onlookers, like a boy successful in a feat of strength or skill.
“We were pretty fair workmen in those days,” he observed; “our rule and square were true! Now, what do you say—shall we have a look inside?”
Jack started forward, his heart on fire with anticipation of some good event, he knew not what. Argon followed. In the cavity of the plinth there was the shining of a box finely wrought in gold; it was covered with work in high relief, but of what design could not be discerned in the obscurity of the receptacle. The stranger grasped the box by the corners and lifted it out into the clear daylight.