Mr. Fenshawe's first question told d.i.c.k that a serious dispute was toward.

"It has been stated," said Mr. Fenshawe, looking at him in a curiously critical way, "that a valuable doc.u.ment was stolen from Baron von Kerber at Ma.r.s.eilles--what do you know about it?"

d.i.c.k, hourly expecting a strenuous turn to the placid marching and camping of the past few weeks, was not taken unaware. He had mapped out a clear line, and meant to follow it.

"I regret to say that I cannot answer you, Mr. Fenshawe," said he, meeting the older man's searching glance unflinchingly.

"Why not?"

"Because I gave an undertaking to that effect to Baron von Kerber."

"But I am your employer, not he."

"No, sir. That is not my view of the contract I signed."

"Have you a copy of that contract'?"

"Yes."

"Will you show it to me?"

"That is unnecessary," broke in von Kerber, with a savage impatience of the quasi-judicial inquiry which Mr. Fenshawe was evidently bent on conducting. "I give Mr. Royson full permission to answer any question you may put to him."

"You do, eh? You give permission? Do you pay his salary?" demanded the millionaire indignantly.

"Yes, on your behalf. Surely the arrangement between us cannot be disputed. I was to make all arrangements, yes?"

"As my paid agent, you should add."

Mrs. Haxton suddenly sat forward in her chair.

"We had a tacit agreement for an equal division of the spoil," she interposed, with an acidity that Mr. Fenshawe probably found in marked contrast with her usual honeyed speech.

"That agreement would have been kept by me," said Fenshawe. "You may not be aware that Baron von Kerber pleaded poverty, and I promised to remunerate him for his services, whether we won or lost. I have no doubt he has my letter, duly stamped at Somerset House, carefully packed away with Mr. Royson's agreement."

The retort was in the nature of the tac-au-tac riposte beloved of the skilled swordsman. It was succeeded by a tense silence. Mrs. Haxton glared at the Baron. The ghost of a smile flickered on Irene's lips as she glanced at d.i.c.k. Von Kerber swished one of his boots viciously with a riding-whip. He found he must say something.

"Why are we creating difficulties where none exist?" he snarled. "If the agreement stands in the way, I absolve Mr. Royson from any promise he has made. I wanted to guard against treachery, not to tie him down to serve me exclusively."

"You asked for obedience and a still tongue, Baron. I have given you both," said d.i.c.k.

"There is your employer, and mine--speak."

Von Kerber could not be other than dramatic. He pointed to Mr. Fenshawe with a fine gesture.

"I have not much to say, unless in the form of opinions. You certainly were attacked at Ma.r.s.eilles, and you yourself charged one of your a.s.sailants with stealing the papyrus. Beyond that, I know little of your business, though, from letters and cablegrams which reached me at various places, it seems to have been quite extensively known in London."

"Who was your informant?" asked Fenshawe.

"A solicitor named Forbes. He is not personally acquainted with Baron von Kerber, but this man Alfieri, of whom we have heard so much, employed private detectives. They, in the course of events, discovered my ident.i.ty, and met Mr. Forbes. It is only fair to Baron von Kerber to say that I have never heard his version of the charge brought against him by Alfieri."

"I have," said the millionaire, grimly.

There was no mistaking the inference to be drawn from his words. Von Kerber was wholly discredited. It was exceedingly probable that the first march of the return journey to Pajura would be ordered forthwith.

Indeed, Fenshawe rose to his feet, meaning to bid Abdur Kad'r prepare to strike camp after the evening meal, when Mrs. Haxton, divining his intent, cried shrilly:

"May I ask what new circ.u.mstance has brought about this remarkable change in your plans, Mr. Fenshawe? It is true that we have been favored by an extraordinary vision of an Italian expedition at no great distance from our own, but what proof have we that it is successful, or even engaged on an errand similar to ours?"

"The mere fact that extensive research is being carried on is sufficiently convincing. Italian soldiers and Arabs do not form huge earthworks in the desert for amus.e.m.e.nt," said Fenshawe.

"They may be trying a last desperate chance," she retorted.

"You forget that they have the same information as ourselves. There is no trouble in deciphering demotic Greek and the hieroglyph minerals are quite simple. Once the papyrus left Baron von Kerber's possession, our exclusive right to it vanished, and you can hardly expect me to engage in an armed attack on the military forces of a friendly nation."

"So far as the papyrus goes, it is utterly useless to any one," broke in von Kerber suddenly.

Mr. Fenshawe was stirred out of his studied calm by the seeming absurdity of the interruption.

"Useless!" he exclaimed, and his brow seamed with anger, "that is a strange word to apply to the only evidence of your story that you have ever produced."

"I always feared Alfieri," said the other, throwing his hands out as if he were pushing away a threatening phantom. "He was spiteful, and jealous, and he knew enough to drive him mad with desire. But I would allow no one to interfere with me, yes? When I was sure of my ground, when I had secured translations of each piece of the papyrus, I altered it."

"Altered it!"

Incredulity and hope were oddly mixed in the cry which came simultaneously from the lips of two of his hearers. Even Irene and d.i.c.k, less wrapped up in the dream of finding the Sabaean h.o.a.rd, awaited von Kerber's next utterance with bated breath. The man was too unnerved to feel any triumph at the sensation he had created.

"Yes," he said, sinking wearily into a chair, though his voice almost cracked with excitement. "I changed the distances in every instance permitted by the text. As it stands now, the papyrus is utterly worthless. I acted for the best, yes? A secret known to more than one ceases to be a secret. But I am tired of pretense, and you shall have the truth, though it carries with it a confession of ghastly failure. I do not know what good fortune Alfieri has blundered into at Suleiman's Well, and I admit that the place offered my own last chance. Yet, if he has found the treasure, it was not because of the papyrus, but despite it. Here are photographs of every section in their present form," and he produced some prints from a pocket-book.

"You were taught some Greek at school, Mr. Royson? Very well. Look at the pa.s.sages which are faintly underlined, and you will, see where I have altered whole phrases, converted tens of miles into hundreds, and hundreds of paces into thousands. And that is the doc.u.ment which Alfieri obtained at Ma.r.s.eilles. He would recognize it as the original, though it is now quite misleading. If he is digging at the right place by reason of the directions given there, it is something beyond belief, yes?"

"You speak of Alfieri recognizing the papyrus. Evidently, then, he had seen it earlier. In what manner was he connected with its discovery?"

Mr. Fenshawe's coldly direct question came in sharp contrast with the Austrian's impa.s.sioned outburst. Von Kerber did not reply. With his elbows resting on his knees, and supporting his chin between clenched fists, he looked through the open door of the tent with eyes that stared into vacancy. The man was in a frenzy of despair. He saw the chance of his life slipping away from him, but he could urge no plea in his own behalf. It was Mrs. Haxton who answered, and her composure was oddly at variance with von Kerber's distress.

"Alfieri was a.s.sistant curator of a museum at Naples when the Italian occupation of Erythrea led to his appointment as government archeologist in this territory," she said. "My husband was in charge of the Red Sea cable at that time, and Signor Giuseppe Alfieri was a friend of ours. An Arab named Abdullah El Jaridiah, grubbing among old tombs for curios, came across a roll of papyri. He sold it to Alfieri for a few francs, and Alfieri gave it to my husband."

She paused; she was not a woman who said too much.

"I take it that Alfieri knew no Greek?" said Mr. Fenshawe, with a touch of irony that was not lost on the lady.

"He certainly failed to appreciate its importance," was the quiet response. "My husband deciphered most of the narrative, but he, in his turn, had no knowledge of hieroglyphics, and, as you are aware, many of the words and figures are contained in ovals, or cartouches, and written in Egyptian characters. He would have learnt their meaning from some other source, but he--died--very suddenly. An accident caused Alfieri to suspect the value of the papyrus, and he asked me to return it. Unfortunately, I led him to believe that I would meet his wish, but Baron von Kerber, who, as you know, was medical officer to a German mission to King Menelek, came to my a.s.sistance at the time, and I told him of my husband's views with regard to the portion he had translated.

Baron von Kerber read the hieroglyphics, though he had to wait nearly a year before he could obtain expert advice as to the accuracy of his rendering. Meanwhile, Signor Alfieri and I had quarreled. I may as well tell you that he was pestering me to marry him, and I grew to hate the man. Then I returned to England, and a friend suggested that I should endeavor to interest you. Now you have the whole story, so far as I am concerned in it."

"If that is so, it would have been better had you taken me into your confidence at the outset," said Fenshawe.

"Alfieri was using threats. I feared the loss of your co-operation if a melodramatic element were introduced."

"But are not you and Baron von Kerber, and, as it would seem, your Italian admirer also, attributing an absurdly fict.i.tious value to the find? People do not pay high prices for old coins merely because they are historic. I have always regarded this treasure-trove as purely antiquarian in its interest. It may contain some vessels or statuettes worth money; but to what extent? Certainly not such fabulous sums as you appear to imagine."