I have tested the matter very carefully. Only one person
besides myself knows of the mere existence of that black seal. Besides,
there are other reasons which I cannot enter into now.'
'But what does it all mean?' I said. 'I cannot understand to what
conclusion all this leads.'
'My dear Miss Lally, that is a question that I would rather leave
unanswered for some little time. Perhaps I shall never be able to say
what secrets are held here in solution; a few vague hints, the outlines
of village tragedies, a few marks done with red earth upon a rock, and
an ancient seal. A queer set of data to go upon? Half a dozen pieces of
evidence, and twenty years before even so much could be got together;
and who knows what mirage or terra incognita may be beyond all this? I
look across deep waters, Miss Lally, and the land beyond may be but a
haze after all. But still I believe it is not so, and a few months will
show whether I am right or wrong.'
He left me, and alone I endeavoured to fathom the mystery, wondering to
what goal such eccentric odds and ends of evidence could lead. I myself
am not wholly devoid of imagination, and I had reason to respect the
professor's solidity of intellect; yet I saw in the contents of the
drawers but the materials of fantasy, and vainly tried to conceive what
theory could be founded on the fragments that had been placed before me.
Indeed, I could discover in what I had heard and seen but the first
chapter of an extravagant romance; and yet deep in my heart I burned
with curiosity, and day after day I looked eagerly in Professor Gregg's
face for some hint of what was to happen.
It was one evening after dinner that the word came.
'I hope you can make your preparations without much trouble,' he said
suddenly to me. 'We shall be leaving here in a week's time.'
'Really!' I said in astonishment. 'Where are we going?'
'I have taken a country house in the west of England, not far from
Caermaen, a quiet little town, once a city, and the headquarters of a
Roman legion. It is very dull there, but the country is pretty, and the
air is wholesome.'
I detected a glint in his eyes, and guessed that this sudden move had
some relation to our conversation of a few days before.
'I shall just take a few books with me,' said Professor Gregg, 'that is
all. Everything else will remain here for our return. I have got a
holiday,' he went on, smiling at me, 'and I shan't be sorry to be quite
for a time of my old bones and stones and rubbish. Do you know,' he went
on, 'I have been grinding away at facts for thirty years; it is time for
fancies.'
The days passed quickly; I could see that the professor was all
quivering with suppressed excitement, and I could scarce credit the
eager appetence of his glance as we left the old manor-house behind us
and began our journey. We set out at midday, and it was in the dusk of
the evening that we arrived at a little country station. I was tired and
excited, and the drive through the lanes seems all a dream. First the
deserted streets of a forgotten village, while I heard Professor Gregg's
voice talking of the Augustan Legion and the clash of arms, and all the
tremendous pomp that followed the eagles; then the broad river swimming
to full tide with the last afterglow glimmering duskily in the yellow
water, the wide meadows, the cornfields whitening, and the deep lane
winding on the slope between the hills and the water. At last we began
to ascend, and the air grew rarer. I looked down and saw the pure white
mist tracking the outline of the river like a shroud, and a vague and
shadowy country; imaginations and fantasy of swelling hills and hanging
woods, and half-shaped outlines of hills beyond, and in the distance the
glare of the furnace fire on the mountain, glowing by turns a pillar of
shining flame and fading to a dull point of red. We were slowly mounting
a carriage drive, and then there came to me the cool breath and the
secret of the great wood that was above us; I seemed to wander in its
deepest depths, and there was the sound of trickling water, the scent of
the green leaves, and the breath of the summer night. The carriage
stopped at last, and I could scarcely distinguish the form of the house,
as I waited a moment at the pillared porch. The rest of the evening
seemed a dream of strange things bounded by the great silence of the
wood and the valley and the river.
The next morning, when I awoke and looked out of the bow window of the
big, old-fashioned bedroom, I saw under a grey sky a country that was
still all mystery. The long, lovely valley, with the river winding in
and out below, crossed in mid-vision by a mediæval bridge of vaulted and
buttressed stone, the clear presence of the rising ground beyond, and
the woods that I had only seen in shadow the night before, seemed tinged
with enchantment, and the soft breath of air that sighed in at the
opened pane was like no other wind. I looked across the valley, and
beyond, hill followed on hill as wave on wave, and here a faint blue
pillar of smoke rose still in the morning air from the chimney of an
ancient grey farmhouse, there was a rugged height crowned with dark
firs, and in the distance I saw the white streak of a road that climbed
and vanished into some unimagined country. But the boundary of all was a
great wall of mountain, vast in the west, and ending like a fortress
with a steep ascent and a domed tumulus clear against the sky.
I saw Professor Gregg walking up and down the terrace path below the
windows, and it was evident that he was revelling in the sense of
liberty, and the thought that he had for a while bidden good-bye to
task-work. When I joined him there was exultation in his voice as he
pointed out the sweep of valley and the river that wound beneath the
lovely hills.
'Yes,' he said, 'it is a strangely beautiful country; and to me, at
least, it seems full of mystery. You have not forgotten the drawer I
showed you, Miss Lally? No; and you have guessed that I have come here
not merely for the sake of the children and the fresh air?'
'I think I have guessed as much as that,' I replied; 'but you must
remember I do not know the mere nature of your investigations; and as
for the connection between the search and this wonderful valley, it is
past my guessing.'
He smiled queerly at me. 'You must not think I am making a mystery for
the sake of mystery,' he said. 'I do not speak out because, so far,
there is nothing to be spoken, nothing definite, I mean, nothing that
can be set down in hard black and white, as dull and sure and
irreproachable as any blue-book. And then I have another reason: Many
years ago a chance paragraph in a newspaper caught my attention, and
focussed in an instant the vagrant thoughts and half-formed fancies of
many idle and speculative hours into a certain hypothesis.
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