away
from it, and had thought it well to ask my advice on the subject. I
came to the conclusion that he had better not be too near; for the
first at all events, he could easily be moved closer if necessary.
When Mrs. Grant had gone, I asked Miss Trelawny how it came that the
furniture of this room, the boudoir in which we were, was so different
from the other rooms of the house.

"Father's forethought!" she answered. "When I first came, he thought,
and rightly enough, that I might get frightened with so many records of
death and the tomb everywhere. So he had this room and the little
suite off it--that door opens into the sitting-room--where I slept last
night, furnished with pretty things. You see, they are all beautiful.
That cabinet belonged to the great Napoleon."

"There is nothing Egyptian in these rooms at all then?" I asked, rather
to show interest in what she had said than anything else, for the
furnishing of the room was apparent. "What a lovely cabinet! May I
look at it?"

"Of course! with the greatest pleasure!" she answered, with a smile.
"Its finishing, within and without, Father says, is absolutely
complete." I stepped over and looked at it closely. It was made of
tulip wood, inlaid in patterns; and was mounted in ormolu. I pulled
open one of the drawers, a deep one where I could see the work to great
advantage. As I pulled it, something rattled inside as though rolling;
there was a tinkle as of metal on metal.

"Hullo!" I said. "There is something in here. Perhaps I had better
not open it."

"There is nothing that I know of," she answered. "Some of the
housemaids may have used it to put something by for the time and
forgotten it. Open it by all means!"

I pulled open the drawer; as I did so, both Miss Trelawny and I started
back in amazement.

There before our eyes lay a number of ancient Egyptian lamps, of
various sizes and of strangely varied shapes.

We leaned over them and looked closely. My own heart was beating like
a trip-hammer; and I could see by the heaving of Margaret's bosom that
she was strangely excited.

Whilst we looked, afraid to touch and almost afraid to think, there was
a ring at the front door; immediately afterwards Mr. Corbeck, followed
by Sergeant Daw, came into the hall. The door of the boudoir was open,
and when they saw us Mr. Corbeck came running in, followed more slowly
by the Detective. There was a sort of chastened joy in his face and
manner a