The Jewel of Seven Stars - Bram Stoker (best 7 inch ereader .TXT) 📗
- Author: Bram Stoker
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either let matters stop where they are and go away in silence, or else
he must know more. Margaret! are you willing to let Mr. Ross see your
wrist?”
She threw one swift look of appeal in his eyes; but even as she did so
she seemed to make up her mind. Without a word she raised her right
hand, so that the bracelet of spreading wings which covered the wrist
fell back, leaving the flesh bare. Then an icy chill shot through me.
On her wrist was a thin red jagged line, from which seemed to hang red
stains like drops of blood!
She stood there, a veritable figure of patient pride.
Oh! but she looked proud! Through all her sweetness, all her dignity,
all her high-souled negation of self which I had known, and which never
seemed more marked than now—through all the fire that seemed to shine
from the dark depths of her eyes into my very soul, pride shone
conspicuously. The pride that has faith; the pride that is born of
conscious purity; the pride of a veritable queen of Old Time, when to be
royal was to be the first and greatest and bravest in all high things.
As we stood thus for some seconds, the deep, grave voice of her father
seemed to sound a challenge in my ears:
“What do you say now?”
My answer was not in words. I caught Margaret’s right hand in mine as
it fell, and, holding it tight, whilst with the other I pushed back the
golden cincture, stooped and kissed the wrist. As I looked up at her,
but never letting go her hand, there was a look of joy on her face such
as I dream of when I think of heaven. Then I faced her father.
“You have my answer, sir!” His strong face looked gravely sweet. He
only said one word as he laid his hand on our clasped ones, whilst he
bent over and kissed his daughter:
“Good!”
We were interrupted by a knock at the door. In answer to an impatient
“Come in!” from Mr. Trelawny, Mr. Corbeck entered. When he saw us
grouped he would have drawn back; but in an instant Mr. Trelawny had
sprung forth and dragged him forward. As he shook him by both hands, he
seemed a transformed man. All the enthusiasm of his youth, of which Mr.
Corbeck had told us, seemed to have come back to him in an instant.
“So you have got the lamps!” he almost shouted. “My reasoning was right
after all. Come to the library, where we will be alone, and tell me all
about it! And while he does it, Ross,” said he, turning to me, “do you,
like a good fellow, get the key from the safe deposit, so that I may
have a look at the lamps!”
Then the three of them, the daughter lovingly holding her father’s arm,
went into the library, whilst I hurried off to Chancery Lane.
When I returned with the key, I found them still engaged in the
narrative; but Doctor Winchester, who had arrived soon after I left, was
with them. Mr. Trelawny, on hearing from Margaret of his great
attention and kindness, and how he had, under much pressure to the
contrary, steadfastly obeyed his written wishes, had asked him to remain
and listen. “It will interest you, perhaps,” he said, “to learn the end
of the story!”
We all had an early dinner together. We sat after it a good while, and
then Mr. Trelawny said:
“Now, I think we had all better separate and go quietly to bed early.
We may have much to talk about tomorrow; and tonight I want to think.”
Doctor Winchester went away, taking, with a courteous forethought, Mr.
Corbeck with him, and leaving me behind. When the others had gone Mr.
Trelawny said:
“I think it will be well if you, too, will go home for tonight. I want
to be quite alone with my daughter; there are many things I wish to
speak of to her, and to her alone. Perhaps, even tomorrow, I will be
able to tell you also of them; but in the meantime there will be less
distraction to us both if we are alone in the house.” I quite
understood and sympathised with his feelings; but the experiences of the
last few days were strong on me, and with some hesitation I said:
“But may it not be dangerous? If you knew as we do—” To my surprise
Margaret interrupted me:
“There will be no danger, Malcolm. I shall be with Father!” As she
spoke she clung to him in a protective way. I said no more, but stood
up to go at once. Mr. Trelawny said heartily:
“Come as early as you please, Ross. Come to breakfast. After it, you
and I will want to have a word together.” He went out of the room
quietly, leaving us together. I clasped and kissed Margaret’s hands,
which she held out to me, and then drew her close to me, and our lips
met for the first time.
I did not sleep much that night. Happiness on the one side of my bed
and Anxiety on the other kept sleep away. But if I had anxious care, I
had also happiness which had not equal in my life—or ever can have. The
night went by so quickly that the dawn seemed to rush on me, not
stealing as is its wont.
Before nine o’clock I was at Kensington. All anxiety seemed to float
away like a cloud as I met Margaret, and saw that already the pallor of
her face had given to the rich bloom which I knew. She told me that her
father had slept well, and that he would be with us soon.
“I do believe,” she whispered, “that my dear and thoughtful Father has
kept back on purpose, so that I might meet you first, and alone!”
After breakfast Mr. Trelawny took us into the study, saying as he passed
in:
“I have asked Margaret to come too.” When we were seated, he said
gravely:
“I told you last night that we might have something to say to each
other. I dare say that you may have thought that it was about Margaret
and yourself. Isn’t that so?”
“I thought so.”
“Well, my boy, that is all right. Margaret and I have been talking, and
I know her wishes.” He held out his hand. When I wrung it, and had
kissed Margaret, who drew her chair close to mine, so that we could hold
hands as we listened, he went on, but with a certain hesitation—it could
hardly be called nervousness—which was new to me.
“You know a good deal of my hunt after this mummy and her belongings;
and I dare say you have guessed a good deal of my theories. But these
at any rate I shall explain later, concisely and categorically, if it be
necessary. What I want to consult you about now is this: Margaret and
I disagree on one point. I am about to make an experiment; the
experiment which is to crown all that I have devoted twenty years of
research, and danger, and labour to prepare for. Through it we may
learn things that have been hidden from the eyes and the knowledge of
men for centuries; for scores of centuries. I do not want my daughter
to be present; for I cannot blind myself to the fact that there may be
danger in it—great danger, and of an unknown kind. I have, however,
already faced very great dangers, and of an unknown kind; and so has
that brave scholar who has helped me in the work. As to myself, I am
willing to run any risk. For science, and history, and philosophy may
benefit; and we may turn one old page of a wisdom unknown in this
prosaic age. But for my daughter to run such a risk I am loth. Her
young bright life is too precious to throw lightly away; now especially
when she is on the very threshold of new happiness. I do not wish to
see her life given, as her dear mother’s was—”
He broke down for a moment, and covered his eyes with his hands. In an
instant Margaret was beside him, clasping him close, and kissing him,
and comforting him with loving words. Then, standing erect, with one
hand on his head, she said:
“Father! mother did not bid you stay beside her, even when you wanted to
go on that journey of unknown danger to Egypt; though that country was
then upset from end to end with war and the dangers that follow war.
You have told me how she left you free to go as you wished; though that
she thought of danger for you and and feared it for you, is proved by
this!” She held up her wrist with the scar that seemed to run blood.
“Now, mother’s daughter does as mother would have done herself!” Then
she turned to me:
“Malcolm, you know I love you! But love is trust; and you must trust me
in danger as well as in joy. You and I must stand beside Father in this
unknown peril. Together we shall come through it; or together we shall
fail; together we shall die. That is my wish; my first wish to my
husband that is to be! Do you not think that, as a daughter, I am
right? Tell my Father what you think!”
She looked like a Queen stooping to plead. My love for her grew and
grew. I stood up beside her; and took her hand and said:
“Mr. Trelawny! in this Margaret and I are one!”
He took both our hands and held them hard. Presently he said with deep
emotion:
“It is as her mother would have done!”
Mr. Corbeck and Doctor Winchester came exactly at the time appointed,
and joined us in the library. Despite my great happiness I felt our
meeting to be a very solemn function. For I could never forget the
strange things that had been; and the idea of the strange things which
might be, was with me like a cloud, pressing down on us all. From the
gravity of my companions I gathered that each of them also was ruled by
some such dominating thought.
Instinctively we gathered our chairs into a circle round Mr. Trelawny,
who had taken the great armchair near the window. Margaret sat by him
on his right, and I was next to her. Mr. Corbeck was on his left, with
Doctor Winchester on the other side. After a few seconds of silence Mr.
Trelawny said to Mr. Corbeck:
“You have told Doctor Winchester all up to the present, as we arranged?
“Yes,” he answered; so Mr. Trelawny said:
“And I have told Margaret, so we all know!” Then, turning to the
Doctor, he asked:
“And am I to take it that you, knowing all as we know it who have
followed the matter for years, wish to share in the experiment which we
hope to make?” His answer was direct and uncompromising:
“Certainly! Why, when this matter was fresh to me, I offered to go on
with it to the end. Now that it is of such strange interest, I would
not miss it for anything which you could name. Be quite easy in your
mind, Mr. Trelawny. I am a scientist and an investigator of phenomena.
I have no one belonging to me or dependent on me. I am quite
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