“I want you, if you will, to translate some hieroglyphic for me.”

“Certainly, with the greatest pleasure, so far as I can.  For I may tell you that hieroglyphic writing is not quite mastered yet; though we are getting at it!  We are getting at it!  What is the inscription?”

“There are two,” he answered.  “One of them I shall bring here.”

He went out, and returned in a minute with the mummy cat which he had that evening introduced to Silvio.  The scholar took it; and, after a short examination, said: 

“There is nothing especial in this.  It is an appeal to Bast, the Lady of Bubastis, to give her good bread and milk in the Elysian Fields.  There may be more inside; and if you will care to unroll it, I will do my best.  I do not think, however, that there is anything special.  From the method of wrapping I should say it is from the Delta; and of a late period, when such mummy work was common and cheap.  What is the other inscription you wish me to see?”

“The inscription on the mummy cat in Mr. Trelawny’s room.”

Mr. Corbeck’s face fell.  “No!” he said, “I cannot do that!  I am, for the present at all events, practically bound to secrecy regarding any of the things in Mr. Trelawny’s room.”

Doctor Winchester’s comment and my own were made at the same moment.  I said only the one word “Checkmate!” from which I think he may have gathered that I guessed more of his idea and purpose than perhaps I had intentionally conveyed to him.  He murmured: 

“Practically bound to secrecy?”

Mr. Corbeck at once took up the challenge conveyed: 

“Do not misunderstand me!  I am not bound by any definite pledge of secrecy; but I am bound in honour to respect Mr. Trelawny’s confidence, given to me, I may tell you, in a very large measure.  Regarding many of the objects in his room he has a definite purpose in view; and it would not be either right or becoming for me, his trusted friend and confidant, to forestall that purpose.  Mr. Trelawny, you may know—­or rather you do not know or you would not have so construed my remark—­is a scholar, a very great scholar.  He has worked for years toward a certain end.  For this he has spared no labour, no expense, no personal danger or self-denial.  He is on the line of a result which will place him amongst the foremost discoverers or investigators of his age.  And now, just at the time when any hour might bring him success, he is stricken down!”

He stopped, seemingly overcome with emotion.  After a time he recovered himself and went on: 

“Again, do not misunderstand me as to another point.  I have said that Mr. Trelawny has made much confidence with me; but I do not mean to lead you to believe that I know all his plans, or his aims or objects.  I know the period which he has been studying; and the definite historical individual whose life he has been investigating, and whose records he has been following up one by one with infinite patience.  But beyond this I know nothing.  That he has some aim or object in the completion of this knowledge I am convinced.  What it is I may guess; but I must say nothing.  Please to remember, gentlemen, that I have voluntarily accepted the position of recipient of a partial confidence.  I have respected that; and I must ask any of my friends to do the same.”