“These two items here are worth a guinea,” I said decisively, placing the silver boxes on the table.
“But the fish is… the fish is… exceptional.” I turned the item between my fingers,
“It is Dutch silver, marked for the year 1800. The eyes are emerald, and the detailing is of the highest quality. I have seen only one such fish-shaped spice box before and it sold for a remarkable three guineas at auction.”
I expected to see a satisfied smile or some response of pleasure; however, Blake’s face did not register even a twitch of surprise at my appraisal.
“You will sell them for me?”
“I can do better than that!” I said. I wanted this man out of my office as quickly as possible and so I decided at once I would conclude our business today.
“I will buy them for my collection. Does three guineas and ten shillings sound fair?” I offered a little less than they were worth because, if I’d sold them at my saleroom I would have taken commission and so he would not get the full estimate!
“Indeed it does.” Again, no emotion showed on Blake’s face, but he held out his hand to seal the deal. My eyes fell on the long bony fingers of his right hand. He wore a gold band on the index finger. The signet ring was large and the face of the ring was engraved with entwined circles and the monogram of the backward letters FS. I realized to my horror it was the stamp I found impressed at the back of my red book, and upon the envelope sent to Baron Leopold. Disquieted, I did not take Blake’s hand but winced at the thought of touching his pallid skin.
I stood abruptly. “Excellent, excellent” I blustered to cover my bad manners and clapped my hands together. “I shall write you a bankers draft at once so you may obtain the funds for the sale of the items.”
I made my way to my desk. Fishing in a drawer I found my ledger, and then a bank draft. With the scritch-scratch of my dipping pen, I swiftly filled in the information required to release the cash payment.
I blotted the bank draft then returned to my seat and offered the draft to Blake. He watched me with those penetrating eyes as if he could see how I trembled, and why I was rushing through with this purchase of silver. Blake accepted the draft, folded it, and placed it in his inner pocket. He retrieved his blue glass spectacles from the table and put them on, at once shielding his peculiar eyes. Then he picked up his copy of The Light periodical from the table. He stood and I thought he was going to pocket it, but again, Blake handed the periodical to me as if to insist that I read it. In a charming voice, he said,
“I’m speaking at The Theosophical Society tonight at nine p.m. It would be worth your while to attend, Mr. Hannan.”
Nine of the clock? I shuddered at the thought as I was reluctant to leave my house after dark. Part of me wanted to tell the Lawrence Blake I was unavailable but then I recalled his seeming friendship with the missing nobleman. I wondered if young Leopold would be at this lecture, and if so, I would like to ensure he had come to no harm—I also knew somebody else who would be interested!
Clutching the pamphlet I nodded and strode to open my office door.
“It was a pleasure to do business with you, Mr. Blake. I wish you a good day.”
As Blake passed me he paused, too close for comfort. He fixed my gaze, and said: “Bless-ed is the seed”.
The phrase winded and confused me for the second time. What did that mean? He smiled with satisfaction then moved off on those light dancers’ feet. I closed the door and knew at once, I must send a note to Sebastian.
Esoteric Occurrences
Fretfully, I gripped my cane as the growler carriage in which I sat turned from Bedford Square onto Goodge Street. I was traveling west across the city to The Theosophical Society in Kensington. As the twenty-minute journey passed by I fell into melancholic contemplation. Not for the first time, I worried about the strange ungodly path my life was taking.
This past fortnight had become the most adventurous, passionate, and troublesome I could remember. The routines of life gave me comfort. I thrived within the confines of my small, albeit loveless world. I cannot say that my life was happy, but I believed I was the captain of my own ship. However, it appeared that I had become blind to all that was going on around me. Not only had Sebastian admired me from afar for many months, but I had unwittingly become entangled—a pawn in someone else’s game—and the red book was central to that game. I believed I was… insignificant in wider society. I did not seek to court influence and did not believe I held any great sway. I was an ordinary man of business; honest, forthright, and
