"May I have them?"
"Of course," was Frank's unhesitating reply, though he had no desire to part with them at that juncture. Yet he had, unfortunately, no excuse for keeping them further. He could not say that the Professor held them, as he had given his visitor a solemn promise not to allow the documents out of his possession.
So he rose, unlocked a drawer with the key upon his chain, and handed to the deformed man the packet containing the half-burnt statement.
"Well," remarked Diamond, as he took the precious documents in his hand, "if you think it a wise course, let us adopt it."
"Yes, but where are we to commence our search?"
"The stranger said he was a Dane. He came from Copenhagen. Is it not probable," suggested the Doctor, "that the discoverer was some friend of his residing in that city?"
"More than likely," Farquhar agreed. "Yes. Let us try Copenhagen. We must first find out who are the professors of Hebrew resident there. I will write to our Copenhagen correspondent to-night and ask for a list.
Then, if necessary, I will run over there myself. In this matter we must lay out a decisive line of inquiry and follow it up."
"Quite so," exclaimed the hunchback. "Copenhagen must be our starting-point. The initial difficulty, however, as far as I discern, is that we do not know our dead friend's name. If we did and could trace him, we might discover whether he knew anybody who was a Hebrew scholar."
"The Danish police would furnish us with names and descriptions of persons lately missing from the capital."
"So they would, that's a brilliant idea," exclaimed the Doctor. "My opinion is that the reason why he refused his name to me, even at the final moment, was because he was wanted by the police, and intended that they should remain in ignorance of his end."
"If so, it makes our inquiry far easier," declared Frank. "And suppose we find him?" he asked.
"If we find him," answered Diamond, looking straight into the eyes of the ambitious man opposite--"if we find him, we will compel him to furnish to us the context of the statement."
"Compel--eh?" repeated the other, a hard smile playing about the young man's lips. Diamond was a queer figure and strange persons had always attracted him. Through the ugly little doctor he had gained this remarkable knowledge of an uncanny secret withheld from the world for over two thousand years. He was reflecting what a "boom" the discovery would be for that great daily newspaper of which he was one of the Board of Directors.
"Then you agree that we shall at once turn our attention to Copenhagen-- eh?" he asked.
"Certainly--the sooner the better."
"We have no photograph of your friend--a most unfortunate fact."
Diamond gave a detailed description of the dead man, and his friend, crossing to his writing-table, wrote it carefully at his dictation.
"I've been in Copenhagen several times," Frank remarked, "so I know that city fairly well. I wonder whether the man we seek is a professor at the University?"
"Our first object is to establish the dead man's identity."
"He may have lied, and perhaps was not a Dane after all! He may have been a Norwegian, or even a Swede."
Diamond raised his deformed shoulders and answered:
"True, as he was so bent upon concealing his identity he may well have lied to me regarding his nationality. Yet we must risk that, don't you think?"
"But you told me that you were convinced that he was a Scandinavian."
"Yes. But he might have come from Stockholm, or Gothenburg or Christiania."
"Our first inquiries must be of the Danish police," Frank said decisively. "I'll write to-night to our correspondent in Copenhagen."
"Would it not be best for you to go there and make inquiries yourself?"
"I may do that. Most probably I shall."
"Stories of treasure are always attractive," remarked the Doctor, casting a crafty glance at his young friend. "I hope, Mr Farquhar, you will make no mention in any of your papers regarding it."
"My dear Doctor, don't worry yourself about that," Frank laughed. "Of treasure stories we've of late had a perfect glut. For a long time, for instance, I've taken a deep interest in the wrecks of vessels known to have contained treasure, the exact location of which are known. As an example, we have the ship _Grosvenor_ now lying off the Pondoland Coast with over a million and a half pounds of treasure in her rotting hold.
Then there's the _Ariston_, in Marcus Bay, with 800,000 pounds worth; the _Birkenhead_, on Birkenhead Reef, with a similar amount; the _Atlas_, near Yarmouth, with 700,000 pounds, the _Dorothea_, on Tenedos Reef, with 460,000 pounds; the _Abercrombie_, lying under the Black Rock, with 180,000 pounds; and the _Merenstein_, on the coast of Yutton Island, with 120,000 pounds. In addition to these there are H.M.S.
_Chandos_ with 60,000 pounds in coin in her hold, the troopship _Addison_ with 20,000 pounds in gold, and the _Harlem II_, lying half covered by sand with her hold full of silver bars. All these and many others are lying in positions perfectly well known, and only await salvage. Why, in one gale off the West African coast in 1802 seven ships were wrecked, all of them containing a vast treasure. Besides, the contents of the vessels I have mentioned have all been verified from their bills of lading still in existence. No, my dear Doctor," the young man added with a laugh, "had the story been an ordinary one of treasure it would not have interested me in the least, I assure you; and as for publishing any details, why, my dear sir, is it not to my own personal interest to keep the matter as secret as possible? Please do not have any apprehension on that score."
"I have not," declared the hunchback; "my great fear, however, is that this professor friend of yours may chatter."
"He will not. I have impressed upon Griffin the value of silence," said Frank. "Besides, he is a `dry-as-dust,' silent man, who says nothing, so absorbed is he in his studies in his own particular sphere."
"Good. Then we will now transfer our attention to Copenhagen."
"I shall write to-night. Remain patient and wait the reply of the Danish police. I'm open to bet anything that your friend was compelled to make himself scarce from Denmark, and carried with him confidential documents which were not his property and with which he had no right to deal."
"Then if that really turns out so, it also proves another thing."
"What's that?"
"Why, if the documents were to be of any commercial value, they must have contained the actual key to the secret."
"No doubt. The key was written clearly in those manuscript folios, all of which were burned save one," was Frank's reply. "It is the context of that document which we must obtain at all costs and at all hazards.
And if the dead man has not lied I'm firmly of opinion that it will be found within the city of Copenhagen."
CHAPTER TWELVE.
DESCRIBES AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY.
Professor Griffin, for a scholar was a man of unusually rapid action.
He was convinced that another person was following the same course of inquiry as himself. Therefore he determined to act quickly and decisively.
Next day he returned to the British Museum, and after three hours' work completed the copy of the manuscript. Then he turned his attention to two fragments of the Hebrew manuscript of the Book of Ezekiel, one of the fourth century in the Oriental Room, and the other of the fifth century in the Harleian collection.
While studying these, he recollected that some fragment of early manuscript of Ezekiel had been recently found in the Genisa in Old Cairo by Mr Alder and his companions, and that several of them were in the Bodleian Library at Oxford. Therefore, he searched the catalogue, noted the numbers, and that evening took the train to the university centre, staying the night at the Randolph Hotel.
Next morning he was in consultation with his friend, Professor Cowley, and Number 2611 of the Hebrew manuscript was brought. It proved to be the text of Ezekiel from chapter xiv, 22 to chapter xlvii, 6.
"Ah!" exclaimed Griffin, the instant he glanced at it. "It is too modern, I fear, for it contains the vowel-points."
"Yes," answered his friend. "I fear it will be of no value to you, if you seek a very early manuscript."
Griffin had made no explanation of the reason of his inquiry.
"The oldest manuscript of Ezekiel is, as you know, in the Imperial Library in St Petersburg," Professor Cowley remarked. "I have here some photographic reproductions," and from a portfolio he produced some facsimiles which had been published by the Paleographical Society some years ago. They were splendid reproductions, and to Griffin of most intense interest.