“You are right,” cried he, with enthusiasm, “they are, indeed, a mystery which it has puzzled ages to develop—go to Egypt, and I will accompany you. I feel an inward voice call me to the spot. Yes, we will explore these monuments, and who can tell but that we may be the favoured mortals destined to raise the mystic veil which so long has covered them? We may be decreed to revive their mummies, and force them to reveal the secrets of their prison-house. It was Cheops raised the pyramids from the dust by science, and Cheops, by the force of science, shall be compelled to disclose their origin.”
“I am glad,” resumed Father Morris, “to find the opinions of Dr. Entwerfen coincide so exactly with my own, and that he will have the kindness to accompany your expedition. You will want a companion who can enter into your feelings, and participate in your hopes. My monastic vows chain me to this spot, or I would gladly lend my humble aid to accomplish so valuable a discovery.”
“Well, well, we can easily fancy that,” cried Dr. Entwerfen, impatiently; “but though you can’t go, we can: and—and—when shall we set off, Edric, dear?”
“Stay, stay!” replied Edric, smiling at the doctor’s impetuosity; “though I own I should like to visit Egypt, yet there are many things to be considered before such an expedition can be undertaken. I must obtain my father’s consent. I must—”
Here a gentle tap at the door interrupted Edric’s argument; and made the doctor, whose nerves were rather susceptible, leap two or three yards in a fright:—whilst Father Morris, with his usual air of calm composure, opened the door to the unwelcome intruder.
It was old Abelard the butler. Half ashamed of the unphilosophic terror he had evinced, the doctor felt glad to be able to hide his emotion under the appearance of anger, and demanded peevishly, what was the matter. “Have I not told you a hundred times,” continued he, “that I do not like to be interrupted at my studies! and that nothing is more disagreeable than to have one’s attention distracted, when it has been fixed upon an affair of importance!”
“I do not attempt to controvert the axiom you have just propounded,” returned Abelard, speaking in a slow precise manner, as though he weighed every syllable before he drawled it forth: “for undeniable facts do not admit of contradiction. However, as the message with which I stand charged at the present moment, relates to Master Edric and the reverend Father Morris, instead of yourself, I humbly opine, no blame can attach itself to me, on account of the unpremeditated interruption of which you allege me culpable.”
“And what have you to say to me?” demanded Edric.
“That the worthy gentleman, your respectable progenitor, requests you instantly to put in exercise your locomotive powers to join him on the terrace, to the end, that there your superior visual faculties may afford soulagement to the mental anxiety under which he at present labours, by aiding him to develop the intelligence conveyed to him by the telegraphic machine.”
“What!” exclaimed Edric, eagerly, and then, without waiting a reply, he darted forward, and in a few seconds was by the side of his father: whilst Father Morris followed with nearly equal expedition.
Abelard gazed after them with amazement: “There is something very astonishing,” said he, addressing Dr. Entwerfen, “in the effervescence of the animal spirits during youth. I labour under a complete acatalepsy upon the subject; I should think it must arise from the excessive elasticity of the nerves. Ideas strike—” but here, happening unfortunately to look up, he too was struck to find Dr. Entwerfen had also vanished: and being unwilling to waste his eloquence upon the empty air, he departed, slowly and solemnly, however, according to his custom, to join the party assembled on the terrace.
III
“My dear Edric,” exclaimed Sir Ambrose, throwing himself into the arms of his son, “my dear, dear Edric! your brother has gained the battle! The Germans are completely overthrown. He has taken their king, and several of their princes prisoners; and the fine province of France is ceded to us entirely!”
“I am rejoiced to hear it,” cried Edric, returning his father’s embrace with emotion, “and he, I hope, is safe?”
“I hope so too,” replied Sir Ambrose; “though he says nothing of himself: but you know Edmund: ‘Our troops won this,’ ‘our army gained that!’ ‘the soldiers fought bravely!’ he never speaks of himself. To hear him relate a battle, nobody would imagine he had ever had anything to do with it.”
“It is too dark to see any more,” said Father Morris, who, during this conversation, had been watching the telegraph, and now turned from it in despair; “the machine is still in motion, but it is too dark for me to decipher what it means.”
The attention of all present was directed to the sky as he spoke. It was indeed become of pitchy blackness, a general gloom seemed to hang over the face of nature; the birds flew twittering for shelter, a low wind moaned through the trees, and, in short, everything seemed to portend a storm.
“Had we not better return to the house?” said Dr. Entwerfen, looking round with something like fear at these alarming indications, for his heated imagination had not yet quite recovered the effect of the awful speculations in which he had been so lately indulging. “What is that black spot there? I declare it moves! Good heavens, what can it be?”
“Really, doctor!” returned Abelard, “you provoke the action of my risible faculties. That opaque body which you perceive at a little distance, and which seems to have occasioned such a fearful excitement of your nervous system, is only a living specimen of the corvus genus, who has probably descended upon earth to search for his vermicular repast.”
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Abelard,” rejoined Mr. Davis,
