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within, the parish of St. George, Bloomsbury, and St. Giles in the
Fields or St. Andrew above the Bars and St. George the Martyr.' Now
Egyptian mummies are the bodies of the dead, and this Museum is an
authorised place for their reception; and this building is situate
within the boundaries of the parish of St. George, Bloomsbury. Therefore
the provisions of clause two have been duly carried out and therefore
Godfrey Bellingham is the principal beneficiary under the will, and the
co-executor, in accordance with the wishes of the testator. Is that
quite clear?"

"Perfectly," said Dr. Norbury; "and a most astonishing coincidence--but,
my dear young lady, had you not better sit down? You are looking very
ill."

He glanced anxiously at Ruth, who was pale to the lips and was now
leaning heavily on my arm.

"I think, Berkeley," said Thorndyke, "you had better take Miss
Bellingham out into the gallery, where there is more air. This has been
a tremendous climax to all the trials that she has borne so bravely. Go
out with Berkeley," he added gently, laying his hand on her shoulder,
"and sit down while we develop the other negatives. You mustn't break
down now, you know, when the storm has passed and the sun is beginning
to shine." He held the door open, and as we passed out his face softened
into a smile of infinite kindness. "You won't mind my locking you out,"
said he; "this is a photographic dark-room at present."

The key grated in the lock and we turned away into the dim gallery. It
was not quite dark, for a beam of moonlight filtered in here and there
through the blinds that covered the sky-lights. We walked on slowly, her
arm linked in mine, and for a while neither of us spoke. The great rooms
were very silent and peaceful and solemn. The hush, the stillness, the
mystery of the half-seen forms in the cases around, were all in harmony
with the deeply-felt sense of a great deliverance that filled our
hearts.

We had passed through into the next room before either of us broke the
silence. Insensibly our hands had crept together, and as they met and
clasped with mutual pressure, Ruth exclaimed: "How dreadful and tragic
it is! Poor, poor Uncle John! It seems as if he had come back from the
world of shadows to tell us of this awful thing. But, O God! what a
relief it is!" She caught her breath in one or two quick sobs and
pressed my hand passionately.

"It is over, dearest," I said. "It is gone for ever. Nothing remai