BURGERS SECRET.

Auckland Star, Volume XXIX, Issue 306, 28 December 1898, Page 6

BURGERS SECRET.

(By Conan Doyle.)

(Detroit Free Press.)

•Look here, Burger,' said Kennedy, <T do wish that you would confide in me.' ■' .'' ■': ■' ' -:■.' , ■ , ■~ •■■:

The two famous students of Eoman remains sat tog-ether in Kennnedy's comfortable room overlooking the Corso. The night was cold, and they had both pulled up their chairs to the unsatisfactory .Italian stove which threw out a zone of stuffiness rather than of warmth. Outside, under the bright winter stars, lay the modern Borne, the long, double chain of the electric lamps, the brilliantly lighted cafes, the rushing carriages, and.the dense throng upon the footpaths. But inside, in the sumptuous chamber of the rich young English archaeologist there was only old Koine to be seen. Cracked and time worn friezes hung upon the walls, gray old busts of senators and soldiers with their fighting heads and their hard, cruel faces peered out from ..the corners. On the centre table, amidst a litter of inscriptions, fragments and ornaments, there stood the famous reconstruction •by. Kennedy of the Baths of Caracalla, which excited such interest and admiration when it was exhibited in Berlin. Amphorae hung from the ceiling, and'a litter of curiosities strewed the rich red Turkey carpet. And of them all there was not one which was not of the most unimpeachable authenticity, and of the utmost rarity an/1, value ; for Kennedy, though little more than thirty, had a European reputation in this particular branch of research; and was, moreover, provided ■with that long purse which either proves to be a fatal handicap to tie student's energies, or, if his mind is still true to its purpose, gives him an enormous advantage in the race for fame. Kennedy had often been seduced by whim and pleasure from^ his studies, but his mind was an incisive one, capable of long and concentrated efforts which ended in sharp reactions of sensuous langour. His handsome face, with its high, white forehead, its aggressive nose, and its somewhat loose and sensual mouth was a fair index of the compromise between strength and weakness in his nature. Of a very different type was his companion, Julius Burger. He came of a» curious blend, a German father and, an Italian mother,, w.ith" the.: robust qualities of thenorih mingling strangely with the softer graces of .the south. Blue Teutonic eyes, lightened his sunbrowned face, and above them rose a square, massive forehead, with a fringe of close, yellow curls lying 'around it. His strong, firm jaw was clean shaven, and his companion had frequently remarked ■ how • much it suggested; those old Ebman .busts which peered out 'from the shadows in the corners of his chamber. Under its bluff German strength there lay always a suggestion of Italian subtlety, but the smile was so honest and the eyes so frank, that one. understood that this was only" an indication of his ancestry, with no actual bearing Tipon his character. In age and reputation he was. on the same level as., his English companion, but his life and his wprk ..-had. both been far more arduo-us^Twelve"years before, he had come as af^oor-student to Konie, and had lived ever: since upon the small endowment fo~r research which had been awarded to him by the University of Bonn. Painfully, slowly and ■ doggedly, with extraordinary tenacity, and single mindedness, he had climbed from rung to rung of the ladder of fame until now he was'a member of the Berlin Academy,, and there was every reason to believe that he would shortly -be, promoted to the chair of the greatest of German universities. But the singleness of purpose which had brought him to the same high level as.the rich and brilliant. Englishman, had caused him in . everything outside their work' to Stand infinitely below him. He had never' .found a pause in his studies in which to cultivate the social p-races. It was only when, he spoke "of his. own subject that his face was filled with life, and soul- At other times he was silent and embarrassed, too conscious of his own limitations 'in larger .subjects, and impatient of that small talk which, is the conventional refuge of those who have no thoughts to express. And yet for some years there had been an acquaintanceship which appeared to be slowly ripening into a friendship between.these two very different rivals. The base-and origin of this lay in the fact, that in their own studies each was the only One of the younger men who* had knowledge and enthusiasm; enough to pror perly appreciate the other. Their common interests and pursuits had brought them together, and each had been attracted by the. other's knowledge. And then gradually something had been added to this. Kennedy had been amused by" the frankness and simplicity of ,his rival,, while Burger in turn' had been fascinated by the brilliancy and vivacity which had made Kennedy such a favourite in Eoman society. I say 'had,' because just at the moment the young Englishman was somewhat under a cloud. A love affair, the details of which had never quite come out, had indicated a heartlessness and callousness upon his part which shocked many of his friends. But in the bachelor circles of students and artists in which he pre*ferred to move there is no very rigid code of honour;in such matters, and though a head might be shaken or a pair of shoulders shrugged over ±he flight of two and the return of one,, the general sentiment was probably, one of curiosity and perhaps of envy rather than of reprobation. 'Look here, Burger,' said Kennedy, looking hard at the placid face of his companion, 'I do wish that you would confide in me.' . . .... As he spoke he waved his hand in the direction, of a rug which lay upon the floor. On the rug stood a long, shallow fruit basket of the light wicker work which is in use in the Campana, and this was heaped with-a litter of objects, inscribed tiles, broken inscriptions, cracked mosaics,

torn papyri, rusty metal, ornaments, which to the uninitiated might have come straight from a dustman's 'bin, but which a specialist would have speedily recognised as unique of their kind. The pile of odds and ends in the flat wicker work basket supplied exactly- one of those missing links of social development which are of such interest to the student. It was the German who had- brought them in, and the Englishman's eyes were hungry as he looked at them.

'I won't interfere with your treasure trove, but I should very much like to hear about it,' he continued, while Burger very deliberately lit a, cigar. 'It is evidently a discovery of the first importance. These inscriptions will make a.sensation throughout Europe.'

'For every one here there are a million there!' said the German. 'There are so many' that a. dozen savants mig-ht spend a lifetime over them and build up a reputation as solid as the castle of St. Angelo.' . .

Kennedy sat thinking, with his fine forehead wrinkled and his fingers playing- with his long fair moustache. '"Sou have given yourself away, Burger!' said he at last. 'Your words can "only" apply"" to 'one thing. You-have discovered a new catacomb.' 'I' had no doubt that you. had already come to that conclusion from an examination of these objects.' 'Well, they certainly appeared to indicate it, but your last remarks make it certain. There is no place except a catacomb which would contain so vast a. store of relics as you describe.' - 'Quite so. There is no mystery about that.' I': have discovered a. new catacomb.' 'Where?' ' v 'Ah, that is my secret, my dear Kennedy.. Suffice it to say that it is so situated that there is not one chance in a million of anyone else coming upon it. Its date' is different from that of any known catacomb, and it has been reserved for the burial of the highest Christians, so that the remains and the relics are quite different from anything which has ever been seen before. If I was not aware of your knowledge and of your energy, my friend, I would not hesitate, under the pledge of secrecy, to tell you everything about it. But as it is I think that I must certainly prepare my own report of the matter before I expose myself to such formidable competition.' Kennedy loved his subject with a love" which was almost a! mania—a love which held, hinx true: to it, amidst the distractons which come to a wealthy and dissipated young man. He had- ambition, but his ambition was secondary to his mere abstract ioy and interest in everything which concerned the old life and history of the city. He yearned to see this new underworld which his companion had discovered. 'Look here, Burger,' said he, earnestly, 'I assure you that you can trust me most implicitly in this matter.. Nothing would induce me to put pen to paper about anything which I see until I have your permission. I quite understand1 your feeling, and I think it is most natural, but you really have nothing whatever to fear from me. On the other hand, if you" don't tell me, I shall make-a, systematic search, and I shall most pertaihly.; discover, it. In that cas,e. I should make v?h.at use I 'liked. of^it,' since,*l should be under no obligation to you.' , .., Burger "smiled thoughtfully - over his cigar. •;■■;.;■■■■',. _ , 'I have noticed, friend Kennedy, said he, 'that when I want information over, any point, you are'not always so ready to supply it.' - 'When did you ever ask me anything that I did not tell you? You remember, for example, my giving you the material for your paper about the temple of the Vestals?' -. 'Ah, well, that was not a matter of much importance. If I were to question you upon some intimate thing, would, you give me an answer, I wonder.'? This new catacomb is a very intimate thing to me, and I should certainly expect some sign of confidence in return. ....

'What you are driving at I cannot imagine,' said the Englishman, 'but if you mean that you will answer my question about the catacomb if I answer any question which you may put to me, Lean assure you that I will certainly do so.' 'Well, then,' said Burger, leaning luxuriously back in his settee and puffing a blue tree of cigar smoke in the air, 'tell me about your .relations with Miss Mary Saunderson.' ; . Kennedy sp-cng up in his chair and glared angrily at his impassive companion. ■ 'What the devil 'do you mean?' he cried.' What sort of [ a question, is this? You "may mean it as a joke, but-never made a worse one.' "No, I don't mean it as a joke,' said Burger, simply, 'I am really interested in the details of the matter. I don't know much about the world and women, and social life, and that sort of. thing, and such an incident has the fascination of the unknown for me. I know you and I know her by sight— I have even spoken to her once or twice. I should very much like to hear from your own. lips exactly what it was which occurred between you.' 'I won't tell you a word.' ; 'That's all right. It was only my whim to see if you would give up a secret as easily.; t you expected me to give up my secret of "the new catacomb. You wouldn't, and I didn't expect you to. But why should you expect otherwise of me? There's Saint John's clock striking ten. It is quite time I was going home.' 'No, wait a bit, Burger,' said Kennedy ; 'this is really a ridiculous caprice of yours to .wish to know about ah old love' anair which has burned out months ago. You know we look upon a man who kisses and tells as the greatest coward and villain- possible.' ■ , 'Certainly,' said the German, gathering up his basket of curiosities, 'when he tells anything about a girl which is previously unknown he must be so. But in this case, as you must be aware, it was a public matter which was the common talk of Koine, so that you are not really doing Miss Mary Satfnderson any injury by discussing her case with me. ■ But still, I respect your scruples, and so good night!'

'Wait,a bit, Burger,' said Kennedy, laying his hand upon the other's arm, 'I am very keen upon this catacomb business, and I can't let it drop quite so easily. "Would you mind asking me something else in return—something not quite so eccentric this time?'

■ 'No, no; you have refused, and there is an end of it,' said Burger, with his basket on his arm. 'No doubt you are quite right not to answer, and no doubt I am quite right also—and so again,' my dear Kennedy, good-night!■'•

The Englishman : watched Burger cross the room, and he had his hand on; the handle of the door before his host sprang up with the air of a man who is making the best of that-which cannot be helped.

'Hold on, old fellow,' said he. 'I think you are behaving in a most ridiculous fashion, but still, if this is your condition, I suppose that I must submit to it. I hate saying anything about a girl, but, as you say, it is all over Home, and I don't suppose I can tell you anything "which you■ ido not know already. - What was'it you wanted to know?' ; . The German came back to the stove, and laying- down his basket he sank into his chair once more. 'May I have another cigar?' said lie. 'Thank you very much. I never smoke when I work, but I enjoy a chat much more when I am tinder the influence of. tobacco. Now, as regards this ; young lady, with whom you had this little adventure. What in the world has become of her?' 'She is at home with her own people.' 'Oh. really, in England?' .'Yes.' • : ■ '• 'What part of England—London?' 'No; Twickenham.' ' 'You must excuse my curiosity, my dear-Kennedy, and you must put it down to my ignorance of the world. No doubt it is quit-:, a simple thing: to persuade a young lady to go off with, you for three weeks or so^'and then to hand her over to her own family at — what did you call tiie^place?' 'Twickenham.' 'Quite so—at Twickenham. But it is something so entirely outside my own experience, that I cannot even imagine .how you set about it. For example, if you had loved this girl your love could hardly disappear in three weeks, so I presume that you could not have loved her at all. But if you did not love her why should you make this great scandal which has damaged you and rviined her?' ' ;- ■ . Kennedy looked moodily into the red eve of the stove. .

'That's a logical way of looking- at it, certainly,' said he. . 'Love is a big word, and it represents a good many different shades of feeling. I liked her and—well, you say you've seen her —you know how charming she could look.. But still I am willing to admit, looking back, that I could never have really loved her.' , 'Then, my dear Kennedy, why did you'do'it?' 'The adventure of the thing had a great deal to do wnn it.' 'What! You are so fond of adventure's,! ' :'.'■■'

'Where would the variety of life be Avitliout them? It was for an adventure that I first began to pay my attentions to her. I've chased a good deal of game in my time, but there's no chase like that of a pretty woman. There was the piquant difficulty of it also, for, as she^ was the companion of Lady Emily Eood, it was almost impossible to see her alone. On the top of all the other obstacles which attracted me, I learned from her own lips very early in the proceedings that she was engaged.' 'Mem Gott! To whom?' 'She mentioneel no names.' 'I do, not think that anyone knows that. So that made the venture more \ alluring, did it?' 'Well, it did certainly give a spice to it. Don't you think so?' 'I tell you that I am very ignorant about these things.' 'My dear fellow, .you can remember that the apple you stole from your neighbour's tree was always sweeter than that which fell from your own. And then I found that she cared for me.' .. ;. ,':..-:■.-■■■-- v--:^ %~J';-':i*. " . 'What—at once?' ' 'Oh, no, it took about three months of sapping and mining. But at last I won her over. She xinderstood that my judicial separation from my wife made.it impossible for me to do the right thing by her—but she came all the'i same, and we had a delightful time, as long- as it lasted.' 'But how about the other man?' Kennedy shrugged shoulders. 'I suppose it is the survival of the fittest,' said he. 'If he had been the better man she wnild not have deserted him.. Let's drop the subject, for I have had enough of it.'

'Only one other thing. How did you get rid of her in three weeks?' '• 'Well, we had both cooled down a bit, you' understand. ■" She absolutely refused, under any, circumstances, to come bacli to face the people she had known in Rome, Now, of course, Borne is necessary to me, and I was already pining to be, back at my'work —so there was one obvious cause of separation. Then, again, her old father turned up at the hotel in London, and there was a. scene, and the whole thing became so unpleasant that really—though I missed her dreadfully at first—l was very glad to slip out of it. Now, I rely upon you not to repeat anythingof what 1 have said.'

'My dear Kennedy, I should not dream of repeating it. But all that you say interests me-very much, for it gives me an insight into your way of looking at things, which is entirely different from mine, for I have seen so little of life. And. now you want to know about my new catacomb. There's no use me trying to' describe it, for you would never find it by-that., There is only one thing, and that is for me to take you there.' 'That would be splendid.' 'When would you-like to come?' 'The sooner the better. I am all impatience to see it.' 'Well, it is a beautiful night, though a trifle cold. Suppose we start in an hour. We must be very careful to keep the matter to ourselves. If anyone saw us.hunting in couples they would suspect that there was something going on.' 'We can't* be too cautious,' said Kennedy. Is it far?' ~ .4 , 'Some miles.' *~ „ 'Not too far to walk?' 'Oh, no, we could walk, there easily.' .'We had better do so then. A cabman's suspicions would be aroused if he dropped us both at some lonely spot in the dead of night.' •. 'Quite so, I think it would be best:, for us to meet at the gate of the Appian Way at midnight: I must go back to my lodgings for the matches and candles and things.' . 'All right, Burger.' I think it is very kind of you to let me into this secret, and I promise you that I will write nothing about it until you have published your report. Good-bye for the present. lou well find me at the gate at twelve.' ; ' . (To be Continued.)