"Then that was the actual end of Solomon's temple," remarked Frank Farquhar. "Is that authentic?"
"Without a doubt," said the Professor. "Yet did not Jeremiah comfort the Jews amid all these judgments by contrasting His destruction of the other nations of their present oppressors with His correction of themselves? `Fear thou not, O Jacob, my servant, saith Jehovah, for I am with thee; for I will make a full end of all the nations whither I have driven thee; _but I will not make a full end of thee, but correct thee in measure_; yet will I not leave thee wholly unpunished.' Surely no words could more fully express the principle of Jehovah's dealings with the Jews, His own people, in every age."
"Belshazzar, at his feast in Babylon, put to sacrilegious uses the vessels of the temple, did he not?" asked the young man.
"Yes," answered Griffin, and addressing Gwen said: "Turn to the fifth chapter of Daniel, dear, and read out the first four verses."
The girl found the place and read as follows: "Belshazzar, the King, made a great feast to a thousand of his lords, and drank wine before the thousand. Belshazzar, whiles he tasted the wine, commanded to bring the golden and silver vessels which his father Nebuchadnezzar had taken out of the temple which was in Jerusalem; that the King and his princes, his wives and his concubines, might drink therein. Then they brought the golden vessels that were taken out of the temple of the house of God which was at Jerusalem; and the King, and his princes, his wives, and his concubines, drank in them. They drank wine and praised the gods of gold, and of silver, of brass, of iron, of wood, and of stone."
"And at that moment," remarked the Professor, "was seen the prophetic handwriting on the wall: `_Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin_,' being followed by the city's surprise by Cyrus the Great, and its fall and destruction.
Then under Cyrus, the Israelites returned from their captivity, and by his decree another temple was built by Zerubbabel, the prince of Judah, who was leader of the migration. Cyrus caused his treasurer Mithredath to deliver up the vessels which Nebuchadnezzar had carried away from Jerusalem, five thousand four hundred in number, to Zerubbabel to be re-consecrated to the service of Jehovah."
"Is it to this second temple which our manuscript relates, do you think?" queried Frank. "Or is it to Solomon's temple?"
"Of the temple of Zerubbabel we have but few particulars," answered the Professor, "and no description that would enable us to realise its appearance. But there are some dimensions given in the Bible and elsewhere which are extremely interesting as affording points of comparison between it and the temple of Solomon and Herod after it. The first and most authentic are those given in the Book of Ezra [Ezra vi, 3-4] when quoting the decree of Cyrus, wherein it is said: `Let the house be builded, the place where they offered sacrifices, and let the foundations thereof be strongly laid; the height thereof three-score cubits, and the breadth thereof three-score cubits, with three rows of great stones and a row of new timber.' Josephus quotes this passage almost literally, but in doing so enables us with certainty to translate the word here called `row' as storey, as indeed the sense would lead us to infer--for it could apply only to the three storeys of chambers that surrounded Solomon's, and afterwards Herod's temple, and with this again we come to the wooden talar which surmounted the temple and formed a fourth storey. It may be remarked that this dimension of sixty cubits in height accords perfectly with the words which Josephus puts into the mouth of Herod when he makes him say that the temple built after the Captivity wanted sixty cubits of the height of that of Solomon. For as he had adopted the height of a hundred and twenty cubits in the Chronicles for that temple, this one remained only sixty. This temple was still standing in Herod's time, and was repaired by him. Hecataeus mentions that the altar was twenty cubits square and ten high. But he unfortunately does not supply us with the dimensions of the temple itself. Therefore if the priests and Levites and Elders of families were disconsolate at seeing how much more sumptuous the old temple was than the one which on account of their poverty they had just been able to erect, [Ezra, iii, 12-13; Joseph Ast., xi, 4, 2] it certainly was not because it was smaller, as almost every dimension had been increased one-third; but it may have been that the carving and the gold and other ornaments of Solomon's temple far surpassed this, and the pillars of the portico and the veils may all have been far more splendid, so also probably were the vessels; and all this is what a Jew would mourn over, far more than mere architectural splendour."
"It is a pity we do not know more about this second temple," remarked Gwen, in a tone of disappointment and regret.
"For our present purpose its history, down to the taking of Jerusalem by Titus, does not concern us, my dear," remarked the old scholar, drawing his hand rather wearily over his white brow. "The problem before us evidently has to do with the days of Jehoiakim, prior to the advance of Nebuchadnezzar. Later facts and traditions do not concern us at the moment. I think, however, I have given you an outline of the varied history of the temple and its treasures based upon the very latest readings of Egyptian, Assyrian and other inscriptions, sufficient to show you quite plainly that Solomon's treasure could not possibly have existed in the reign of Jehoiakim, and that the theory of this friend of yours, Diamond, is utterly and entirely without the foundation of tradition or of ancient legend."
"Well," remarked the young man, "such an opinion coming from your mouth is, of course, final, Professor. Yet you must admit that the statement, even as it stands, is full of interest."
"Full of very cleverly conceived mystery--and mystery is always attractive," laughed the Professor, looking at him through his big, round, highly magnifying spectacles.
In the statement he had made there was one discrepancy, one that only a scholar would notice. He had purposely withheld one Biblical reference--one which, above all, had caused him to reflect and believe that the writer of the half-burnt screed was correct, that the secret and its key were actually genuine.
But it was his fixed intention to turn Frank Farquhar from further investigation, and to laugh at Doctor Diamond as a fool, ignorant of any knowledge of the history of the Hebrew race.
A silence fell. Gwen Griffin and her lover were both staring straight at the fire without uttering a word.
The old man sat watching the effect of his words upon the pair, and before Frank left, he handed back to him the charred remnants which he had received from the photographer.
But his thoughts were of that other man--the short, white-bearded foreigner, his rival--who was so busy with his researches, the stranger from across the Channel who also held the remarkable secret.
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
THE GREAT GOD GOLD.
After dining at the club Frank Farquhar strolled round to Half Moon Street, and throwing himself into an armchair before the fire, gave himself up to reflection.
He was recalling what the Professor had said. It was true that all stories of lost treasure were nowadays received with incredulity, and surely this was the most amazing and most wonderful of them all.
Arminger Griffin, Regius Professor of Hebrew, treated the whole matter as a huge joke. Historical fact was wholly against the suggestion contained in these half-burned scraps which, before his departure from Pembridge Gardens, the Professor had handed back to him. Ah! if they could only reconstruct the context of those disjoined words.
He took a cigar and lit it. But a moment later he tossed it impatiently into the fire. It tasted bitter. The Professor had dashed all his hopes to the ground, for was not his opinion on such a matter final.
As he bade good-night to Gwen in the hall and held her soft hand in his she had whispered to him words of encouragement. "Father is really devoid of any romance," she declared. "There may be something in the secret after all. Could you not endeavour to find the person who made that remarkable declaration?"
Her suggestion he was now carefully considering.
The stranger who had died in Paris was apparently not the person who made the declaration. The latter was in all probability alive. If so, could he not furnish many more facts than the scrappy information they at present possessed?
Yet what right had Doctor Diamond to the secret--and for the matter of that, what right had he himself?
That the hard-up stranger in Paris feared lest the documents should fall into other hands was shown by his last act of causing them to be burned.
Such a course made it appear as though the stranger had no right to the possession of the papers. In all probability he had not!
Gwen's suggestion, however, appealed to him. Yet to find that one man in the whole world who knew the truth would, he foresaw, be a work fraught with greatest difficulty. The only manner by which he could be approached, if found, would be upon pretence of restoring to him the charred remains of his valuable statement.
The telephone-bell rang, and he rose and answered it. The editor of one of the great daily journals controlled by his brother-in-law, Sir George, spoke from the office in Fleet Street, at that hour of the evening a hive of industry. A question of policy had arisen, and the editor, one of the shining lights of modern journalism, consulted Frank as representative of the proprietor, Sir George being still in Egypt.
Frank, after a brief conversation, left the matter entirely in the editor's hands, and replacing the receiver walked back from the big roll-top writing-table to the fireplace, where he stood with both arms leaning on the mantelshelf gazing thoughtfully into the blazing coals.
A few moments later his man entered saying:
"A gentleman to see you, sir--Doctor Diamond."
Frank started. His visitor was the very man of all men he wished most to consult, therefore he gave orders for him to be shown in at once.
"Why, my dear Doctor," cried the young fellow, as the ugly little old man entered, "this is a real surprise! I thought of running down to Horsford to see you in the morning. Take off your coat and sit down. I want to have a serious chat with you."
"I got no reply to my two letters, Mr Farquhar," said the crook-backed little man in explanation of his visit. "So I thought I'd just run up and see how you are progressing with our business."
Frank helped him off with his shabby frieze coat and, having installed him comfortably by the fire and given him a cigar, replied:
"Well, Doctor, the fact is I did not reply to your letters because I had nothing definite to report. I trust you will not attribute my silence to any want of courtesy. I have been busy over the matter ever since I returned to London."
"And with what result?" asked the crafty-eyed little man.
"Nothing very satisfactory, I regret to say," was the young man's answer. "Yet I am not discouraged. Professor Griffin, before whom I have placed it, gives as his opinion that there is probably, something in the theory, but he will not quite commit himself to any absolute declaration."
"Is he really competent to judge?" Diamond queried.
"Competent! Why, my dear sir, he's one of the first Hebrew scholars in the world! He is daily engaged in making researches. History, as we are acquainted with it, may negative the theory advanced in those scraps of typewriting, yet Old Testament history is, as you know, very involved and often very contradictory."
"Well," exclaimed the Doctor, "to tell the truth, Mr Farquhar, I'm getting anxious. What I fear is that too many people will get knowledge of it. Then, with the secret out, we shall have others trying to investigate. And with such a gigantic business before us, is it any wonder that I'm becoming impatient?"
"Many a good business is spoilt by being in too great a hurry," Frank declared. "Remain patient, and leave matters entirely to me," he added reflectively. "I've been wondering whether, if we made diligent and secret inquiry, we might not discover the actual person, whoever he may be, who made the curious declaration. It certainly was not your dead friend."
The Doctor hesitated. The idea at once commended itself to him.
"No," he said. "Often when I have recalled all the romantic facts, I have been inclined to suspect that the man who died, although a scholar, had no right to possession of those papers. He intended to make money with them if death had not come so unexpectedly. His very words proved that."
"Exactly my opinion," declared Frank. "Now if we could but find out who the mysterious discoverer really is, we might approach him under pretence of handing back to him the remains of the papers."
"Ah! You still have them safely, eh?" demanded the Doctor.
"Certainly. They are locked in from prying eyes in my desk yonder."