"Couldn't guess to save my life," the officer replied, as he fingered one or two; "artificial insects, spiders, tadpoles, shrimps, or dragon-flies—no, that won't do; I give it up, Sir Imar."
"I know what it is," I said, not by any stroke of genius, but through my brother's workshop; "it is all of it type, of some queer sort, but what the metal is I have not the least idea."
"Type it is, as you perceive. But to what language it belongs, I doubt whether even the British Museum could tell you. For the very simple reason that nothing has been printed in that language yet. It is type of the Lesghian alphabet, the first that has ever been cut, or cast, or in any other manner fashioned. Our language is a very fine one, infinitely the finest of all the forms of speech in the long tract of mountains. But nothing in it has been printed yet. We are obliged to have recourse to Arabic, if we desire to publish anything. And not only that, but the children even of our noblest families have not the least idea—Officer, I see that you are pressed for time; but if you had leisure to see me work this press, not with those castings, but the larger form, the capitals in fact, the coarse capitals, which we turned out first,—for we had to feel our way,—I am almost sure that you would agree with me—"
"I am sure that I should, sir. No doubt about that. I never saw anything so beautiful in my life. But we have exceeded our time, Sir Imar. Thank you—well, I will taste a toss of that liqueur. Upon my word, you know the right thing all round! Sir Imar, your best health! Trappistine is not a patch on it. Beg pardon, Sir Imar, for having hit your gate so hard. I am not quite a literary man myself, but am able to allow for all in that way situated. Good-bye, Sir Imar, and if any one encroaches upon the freedom of the Press, for the folk about here are not like us, just one line to Scotland Yard—a cigar, sir? Yes, it will enable me to think. And I shall take that young fellow's horse back to the station."
Sûr Imar sat down, while I went to see them off; and outside the upper door they gave three cheers. "Wonderful old chap! Grand old cock!" the officer said to me as I offered him a light; "English Aristocracy not a patch upon him for cooking a dinner or for languages. But as mad as a March hare; what a pity! Don't he know what is good, though? Mr. Cranleigh, attend to me. A man who can do French things to satisfy an Englishman—that's what I call international, and no mistake!"
CHAPTER XVII PEPPERCORNS
Before I went away, which I was obliged to do without even a glimpse of Dariel, her father very kindly put this question to me, "Do you really wish to know more, my friend, of the scheme which has brought me to this lonely valley, and kept me occupied here so long, in the hope that I may be of service to the race which has trusted and loved me, but received from me as yet no better reward than disaster and war? You are eager to be told? Then if you can come on Saturday, when the work of the day has been accomplished, you shall hear, not of that alone, but of things which have befallen me, from which you will perceive most clearly that the greater the distance preserved henceforth between Mr. Cranleigh and all Caucasians, the better it will be for his welfare and that of all his relations."
Now it is useless for me to trouble anybody, even if anybody would be troubled, with all the wild thoughts that came into my head, and all the sad things that would not let my heart alone, as I went with this burden of doubt to bear. It must not be supposed for a moment, because I have chanced not to touch upon the matter, that I had cast away all sense of duty to my relatives in this adventure. The home, and the farm, and the welfare of the family had not been impaired by a single penny, through what some might call the distraction of my mind. Only let every one attend to business, as I had never failed to do all this time, and what a different place the world would be! And as for disturbing my father and mother, with any description of what had happened to myself, when the chances were that all of it would come to nothing—that would indeed have been a wicked thing to do, in spite of all their preference for Harold.