.
The cave was high enough to walk upright in, and seemed to run a great
distance, with many lateral passages and smaller recesses off the
principal chamber. Moynglass entered one of these passages and
disappeared from view. A few moments afterwards we heard him, in a very
excited voice, calling us to follow him.
"We proceeded stooping, in Indian file, down the passage, and found
Moynglass in a smaller cave at the end of it, staring intently at
something which was at first difficult to see in the gloom. Then, by the
light of our lamps, we made out a sapling sticking up between two rocks,
with a withered human hand impaled on it by a rusty sheath knife.
"As I was examining it, one of my companions, who had been exploring the
cave, gave a cry of astonishment which caused me to look round. In a
corner of the cave, revealed by his lamp, lay two skeletons side by
side. The hand of one skeleton was missing, and in the eye of the other
there gleamed a large uncut ruby. We examined the skeletons and searched
the cave, but found nothing to throw any light on the mystery or reveal
any clue of identity. There was not a vestige of food or clothing around
the remains, and not a scrap of writing--only the two crumbling
skeletons, the sapling, the sheath knife, and the ruby.
"What had brought about such a tragedy in the dim recesses of that
prehistoric cave? Who could say? Perhaps the men had been prospecting
together, and one had found the ruby and hidden in the cave, where his
companion had found him and cut off his right hand with some primitive
idea of making his vengeance fit the crime. Then, perhaps, they had been
unable to escape from the cave, and had died together of thirst and
hunger. But what is the use of speculating? The secret must ever remain
hidden in the cave where the skeletons still lie."
Musard stopped abruptly, and sat staring straight in front of him. His
strange eyes had a fixed look, as if gazing into the distance. His brown
hand rested lightly on the white tablecloth, and the great ruby on his
little finger gleamed fitfully in the light.
"You haven't told us all the story yet," said Phil Heredith quietly.
The other looked doubtfully at the ring of intent faces regarding him.
"I left that part untold for a good reason," he admitted. "It is--well,
I thought it a little bit too horrible to relate."
"Oh, do tell us," said the lady journalist enthusiastically. "We are all
dying to hear it. It is such
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