Stolen Idols

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Stolen Idols Page 11

by E. Phillips Oppenheim


  CHAPTER III

  If at times Mr. Endacott seemed a little out of his milieu at BallastonHall that evening, Claire, on the other hand, was an instantaneous andgorgeous success. In the Jacobean banquetting hall where she sat at herhost's right hand, her fresh, girlish beauty, with its additional charmof a constant and piquant enthusiasm, seemed in exquisite contrast toher majestic but gloomy surroundings; the great, dimly lit room, thestately rows of oil paintings, the cumbersome but magnificent furniture,impressive not because of any intrinsic art of selection, but because itwas true to its period and had grown old with the house. Sir Bertram,whose attentions to the other sex, apart from times of necessity, hadbecome rarer with the years, was, before the evening was over, provinghimself not only a courteous, but even a devoted host, and Henry, whovoluntarily never addressed a woman at all, actually waited foropportunities to attempt conversation in his old-fashioned, Thackerayan,but courtly fashion. Gregory watched her success with complacentamusement, content with temporary effacement, and resigned himself tothe entertainment of her uncle.

  After dinner they entered upon a general and informal exploration of thehouse, of the great picture gallery with its shining oak floor and itscircular carved balustrade, leading down to the hall below, theVictorian drawing-room, its colourings quaintly sweet by the light ofthe lamps, its perfume a fragrant mixture of lavender and potpourri,curiously reminiscent of brocaded gowns, hooped skirts and vinaigrettes.They looked into the powdering closet on their way out and lingered fora few minutes on the south terrace, from which stretched a moonlitpanorama of Italian gardens with tall cypresses, broad walks leadingdown to the lake. Claire became almost silent. She and Gregory haddrifted a little apart from the others.

  "At least," she murmured sympathetically, "I realise now how terriblethe very thought of parting with your home must be."

  "It has been ours since 1380," he told her. "Uncle Henry could tell youthe exact date and the name and record of every Ballaston since. I can'tpretend that my memory is as good. I never had much head for detail, butwe are all alike in our love for the place."

  "I know I am very ignorant," she said, a little hesitatingly, "but yourpictures--the Gainsboroughs and Corots and Romneys, and all thosetreasures too--surely they must be worth a great deal--a very great dealof money."

  "They are all heirlooms," he explained, "just as the land is entailed.They belong to us as Ballastons only. We could not sell a singlepicture. I don't know why I should tell you all this," he went on,"except that just now and then you seem to think that I was only anordinary fortune hunter. I wasn't, you know, really. I went to China totry to get the money to keep us going. It may have been the wrong way,but it was the only way I was any good at. We haven't the instincts, anyof us, for making money by legitimate methods."

  "You should do like so many young Englishmen," she suggested. "Come overto the States and marry one of our millionairesses."

  He made a little grimace.

  "We all, even the worst of us, have our code," he reflected."Personally, I would sooner rob a man. Besides----"

  She turned towards the open windows through which was an impression ofthe faded but stately drawing-room, fine davenports and costly china,with little pools of shaded light falling upon stretches of carpetdelicately blue, though threadbare in places.

  "I think we had better go inside," she said, with sudden decision.

  "Nevertheless," he murmured, as he followed her, "there is a 'besides'."

  They found the others in the smaller library, standing in a littlesemicircle round the Image of the Body. They had evidently only justarrived, for the door of the main apartment was open behind them andthrough it was a vista of liqueur glasses and coffee cups.

  "You are an authority, I believe, Mr. Endacott, upon all mattersconnected with the East," Sir Bertram remarked to his visitor.

  Endacott nodded. He had adjusted his more formidable-looking spectacles,through which he was steadfastly regarding the Image.

  "I think," he admitted drily, "that I might be said to know more aboutChinese art and Chinese objets d'art than any other man alive."

  "I gather from my son," Sir Bertram continued, "that you are acquaintedwith the history of this particular Image."

  "Intimately," was the somewhat sardonic reply. "The fellow statue tothis one--the Soul--was acquired, after the desecration of the temple,by the firm with which I was connected in China. Their antiquity alone,apart from their history, makes these twin Images intensely interesting.They are reputed to have been the work of Yun-Tse, the priest after whomthe temple was named, and to have been fashioned for the purpose ofconcealing the jewels and treasures of the temple in times of danger. Isee no reason to doubt the truth of the story."

  "Amazing!" Sir Bertram murmured.

  "Yun-Tse," Endacott proceeded, "was the first apostle of Chinesearrestment. He preached the doctrine that China had advanced far enoughalong the great avenues of art and science and knowledge. He lookedstill farther ahead and he saw that material progress meant actualretrogression in feeling, in beauty, in genuine achievement. It was hewho started the crusade against foreigners."

  "From an aesthetic point of view," Henry Ballaston ventured a littlestiffly, "one can find little to admire in this very extraordinary pieceof work."

  Endacott turned towards the speaker, his thin lips protruding.

  "Only by contrast with its fellow," he retorted sharply. "It was thewish of the sculptor, a wish which has been zealously kept through thecenturies, that the two statues shall never be separated. Each is thecomplement of the other. Body and Soul commingled make one life. Theartist dragged aside the component parts and separated them. Here inthis one we have all that is gross and evil, unredeemed by any strain ofvirtue, and in the other statue there is charity and spiritualitywithout a trace of the defiling qualities. They are parted now, perhapsfor ever. I cannot say that I regard with equanimity the action of theperson responsible for this deed of vandalism."

  There was a moment's silence. Endacott's voice was contemptuous, almostprovocative. Gregory was on the point of speech, but Claire's fingerssuddenly pressed his arm.

  "Your point of view, Mr. Endacott," Sir Bertram admitted courteously,"is easily understood. Yet I am afraid that the spirit of loot has beenrampant in Englishmen throughout history, else the British Empire couldscarcely have existed. And speaking of loot," he went on, "we come tothe one really serious question concerning our possession here. Do youhonestly believe that at the present moment it is as it stands thereceptacle for a portion of the jewels of the temple?"

  "I certainly do," was the curt reply.

  Again silence; a little tremor of excitement amongst the group. SirBertram laid his long, slim fingers upon the broad, shining edge of theImage.

  "But, my dear sir," he pointed out, "what possible place of concealmentcould there be in, say, this particular Image? Examine it as carefullyas you will, you cannot find any sign of a join or aperture."

  "The Chinese have with justice been called magicians," Endacott observeddrily. "At least, when they hide they hide. If there had been, as youremark, any aperture or join to be seen, theirs would have been a clumsydevice at the best."

  "If the jewels are there," Sir Bertram reflected, "and we can find noother way, then the statue must be broken up."

  Endacott turned towards his host. His manner and expression were alikedispleasing. The glance which flashed from behind his heavy spectacleswas one of utter contempt.

  "You carry vandalism beyond the conceivable limits of thought," hedeclared. "The person who could destroy work such as that would deservethe fate which would probably befall him."

  "There are times," Sir Bertram rejoined, "when necessity is compelling.Let us turn this from an abstract to a concrete discussion. My sonrisked his life to obtain this Image and the one which was unfortunatelylost--risked it in the belief that it contained jewels of great value.Am I not right in saying, Mr. Endacott, that you could, if you
would,assist us in the matter of obtaining those jewels?"

  "I could," Endacott replied quietly. "I have at the present moment amanuscript in my possession which I believe would solve the riddle."

  "You will not refuse your help then," Sir Bertram persisted.

  Endacott did not hesitate for a moment. His tone was acid, his mannerbrusque to the point of rudeness.

  "I do most certainly and absolutely refuse," he said. "To have removedthe Images at all from their resting place was an unforgivable action.This spirit of loot you speak of presents itself to me as an act ofcommon robbery. I refuse to countenance it. I refuse my help."

  There was a brief silence; awkward, yet in a sense dramatic. HenryBallaston, who had been standing a little in the background, took a stepforward, then paused. The parchment-like pallor of his face was almostghastly. There were pin-pricks of fire in his cold, blue eyes.Nevertheless, he said nothing. Such words as had risen to his lips herepressed. Sir Bertram for a moment had looked frankly angry. He too,however, remained silent. Mr. Endacott turned his back upon the Imageand strolled across towards the side-board.

  "May I be privileged," he asked, "to smoke one more of your excellentcigarettes? After which, I will beg you to excuse my niece and me. Wehave the habit of retiring early."

  Sir Bertram was at once the courteous host. The discussion was closed.

  "I shall not attempt," he said, "to do my few treasures the injustice ofshowing them by this light, but I hope, Mr. Endacott, that you will giveme another opportunity of asking your opinion on them--you and yourniece," he added, turning with a smile to Claire. "You know we havequaint customs in England," he went on. "We have laws by reason of whichwe become only the custodians of all our treasures. There are pictureshere of great value and great beauty, and three generations of my familyspent fortunes in collecting china."

  "I shall be very happy to see your collection," Endacott assented. "Iknow little about pictures; something, perhaps, of china."

  "My brother Henry is our showman," Sir Bertram observed. "He gives thewhole of his time to the care of our treasures. By-the-by, mysister--Lady Annistair--will be here on Sunday afternoon. You will,perhaps, bring your niece to tea. It would be a good opportunity for apreliminary inspection."

  Endacott accepted without enthusiasm, but with a certain measuredpoliteness, which was as far as he ever progressed towards geniality.Gregory escorted the departing guests to the already wide-flung halldoor. Claire made a little grimace at him, as they dropped behind for amoment.

  "I am so sorry," she whispered. "Perhaps he'll change his mind."

  "In any case," he answered softly, "thank you for being sorry."

  He walked out with them into the scented twilight and Claire waved himanother little farewell as they rolled off in the hired car. When hereturned to the library he found his father and his uncle both standingbefore the Image. They turned at the sound of his approaching footsteps.There was something a little suggestive in their unnatural silence.

  "Pleasant fellow, your friend Endacott!" the former remarked easily.

  "It is much to be hoped," Henry Ballaston said, in a low tone, "that hewill not persist in his present most unreasonable attitude."

 

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