His eyes were not fixed on Sercomb, nor on any one else in the room, but on the dingy saint in the frame over the mantel. He waved his arms sternly, separated Sercomb and his friends, and passed through their gaping ranks toward the fireplace.
The he salaamed, calling loudly: "Naboob sahib! Is de time not come? Dekke!"
Thereupon a most astounding thing happened. While those in the room stared like persons entranced, the great frame that enclosed the pictured saint quivered against the wall. Slowly it moved outward at the top, dropped lower and lower, until it had passed the mantel and its upper edge was resting on the floor. The inner side of the picture, now disclosed, was arranged in a series of steps, so that a stairway was formed from the mantel downward. At the top of the short flight, gaping blackly over the fireplace, a square recess was disclosed in the angle formed by the two walls of the room.
For an instant the blank gloom was undisturbed; then, slowly, a tall, gray-haired form showed itself. The form was erect and soldierly, clad in black; the face was fine, the forehead high, and the eyes quick and keen.
For a space this figure stood in the opening, the eyes sweeping the room and finally resting on Ferral. While still gazing at Ferral, the figure stepped over the mantel with military decision and descended step by step until it reached the floor.
The stairway lifted itself, when relieved of the weight, swung upward, and closed the opening. Once more the pictured saint was in the accustomed place.
"Dick!" called a voice.
The figure in black stepped forward with outstretched hand.
"Uncle Jack!" exclaimed Ferral, starting forward.