Despite the contents of the scroll the latter account did seem more probable, and so it was a decided surprise when some four weeks later I received a phone call from New York, and heard the soft voice of one Manuel De Costa asking if I might be interested in selling both the parchment and the crude map it contained.
But by this time I had been caught by the adventure that old scroll promised, and though unable to finance an expedition, had decided to throw in my lot with one who could—he to supply the needed funds, while I furnished the chart and information that would guide us to the tomb—if, indeed, a tomb there was. The summary of the conversation was that I agreed to meet the soft-spoken Spaniard at the Lexington-Arms Hotel in New York, three days later.
The night before the meeting found me at the hotel eager for the unknown. I had gone out earlier in the evening, so that it must have been well on to midnight when I returned to my room, and in smoking-jacket and slippers stood looking from the window, preparatory to retiring.
Far below the Hash and glimmer of countless lights stretched away for miles.
Dimly I realized that only a few centuries ago a virgin forest had sheltered furry, running creatures, where now rose this thunderous city. It had come to me, also, that the famed Queen for whose mummy I might so soon be searching had played with the hearts of men when our own nation had been a savage wilderness.
And now from out of the night rose the blaring horns and rumbling of the Twentieth Century, while she whose memory dimmed all else had lain two thousand years in death. It was the slight creaking of the door I had failed to lock that cut short my reveries and wheeled me in my tracks.
There, standing in the doorway, was a woman of such breath-taking beauty as to appear almost ethereal, a tall, dark-eyed enchantress, whose satin gown revealed the shapely outlines of her body. Diamonds that flashed from her hands and wrists represented several fortunes, while an open cloak of ermine must have cost a fortune.
"You will be so good as to pardon this intrusion. I had to come to you unannounced, as I fear I have been followed."
The voice was soft and musical, and though she had closed the door behind her in a manner that suggested caution, there was no sign of fear in those long-lashed eyes. Indeed, there was something in the entire bearing of this exotic beauty that was an open challenge to danger.
I must have looked my surprise. "You have been followed?"
"It is only too possible. I had my driver bring me here in such a round-about manner that we must have covered half the city, but there was no alternative. The spies of 'The Wolf' are everywhere, and one meets trickery with trickery."
"But surely there is something I can do."
My midnight visitor looked long at me before she spoke.
"There are several things you could do, Mr. O'Hara," she replied at last; "several things that might not only enrich yourself, but aid me as well. No, no, do not question; only listen and answer. Yes, I know your name and who you are. But tell me, is it true that you have in your possession the scroll said to be that of Kharmes, officer of the
