DR. SILEX.

Auckland Star, Volume XXXV, Issue 157, 2 July 1904, Page 14

DR. SILEX.

By HARRIS BDRLAND.

Author of "Dacobra," and (, Tee Unspeakable Thing."

PREFACE. (By Sir John Cordeaux.) It is now some: ten years since ttie Salex Expeiiit.iuu left linylaiid. to discover the North Pole, and though fresh Interest has been directed to it from - teme to time by reiki expedition =, raid j Biora recently by the publication of the : *riU of Dr. Silos, vat the cursory reidor ! »i the newspapers may U; glad to have Itjs memory by a recital of tlie main fact? Dr. Silex was an intimate friend of fay own, and I feel that it is my duty both to him and to the loaders of the extraordinary story I have now to ■ ffiiake public to first of all give some description of the character and personality of a very remarkable man. Id IS3O—-a year before the Expedition, left Engiand—Dr. Silux was best known to the world as a man of vast wealth, land to his friends and acquaintances as wne whose whole life from boyhood had fceen devoted to the study and purchase ■ai rare books. All his ideas of beauty | and happiness were confined to tlie four walls of his ma/uiiiceiit library, lie had never, so fur as I lcnow, been in love with a woman, nor had ho ever fceen heard to express admiration for a beautiful face. He was content to read about the other sox, and kept his real affections nnd hatreds for the characters depicted in his books. His world ■was peopled with the creations of other minds, and he would not hear a word against the ones he loved. If anyone iad hinted to him that Juliet was a silly lovesick wench-, the discission might have ended in blows. But even in this case Juliet was to him always the Juliet of the early Kolius aud Quartos—a goddess enthroned in a perfect shrine —and perhaps if he had only made her acquaintance in a shilling edition of the play, he would have scarcely troubled to defend her. Yet Edward Sliex was a man who, if lie had ever been tak/en out of his narrow world of books, would have made ihis mark on the Uvea of his generation. Physically, he was tail, lean, and broad-shouidcred, and he would have passed for an athlete —which, indeed, he ■fras in his boyhood—if it had not been for the slight stoop in his shoulders* •which spoke of } ears of study and a sedeßtary life, liis clean shaven features were sensitive 'and finely cut, but there was a quiet detprminaiion about his keen grey eyes and the lines of hi 3 mouth that removed any suspicion : of weakness from his face, it gave one the impression that he might be weak about trilles, but tiiat in matters of moment he w'ounl exhibit a will quite ioreign to the character of his everyday life. His occupation, however, gave no opportunity fur the display of any such power. The events of ins life were very trivial, and most of his diiliculties were scarcely worth troubling about. Intellectually, his mind was more keen than powerful, in his own particular line he was one of the tirst authorities iv Europe, .ilea old enough to ha his lather were accustomed, in certain matters, to yield to the mere weight of his name, and a great uni•wsity had recognised his extraordinary patyers of research by making him an honorary Doctor of Civil Law. iie had a nn-vjvellous memory, and his powers of discernment amounted almost i o an instinct. No book-dealer ever dared to otTer hhq a volume with a missing page. He would merely open the book at half a dozen p|ace.s, and one of them would he sure to disclose the los<. ilia knowledge o-f huiyan nature \va> limited, but ♦■xaet within those limits. He know the hearts and minds of book-dealers as though their Uvea had been printed on one of the pages'-of their own books. !No artifice was hidden from him. and no change of expression. escaped his notice. He knew to a nicety how far each man would conscientiously depart trorn the truth, and how far ,each man's price might be beaten down. Dr. Silex read mucii, and had more than a superficial knowledge of every subject he read about, slftd a complete grasp of many of them, lie knew more law than many barristers, more medicine than a good many doctors, and more theology than half the curates in London. If he had devoted hte mind to the learning of a single proXe.vsion, he ■would undoubtedly have risen to great eminence, for he had that power of arranging facts, and sifting evidence, and weighing theories, which makes fov distinction in erery branch of life. But here again he was cramped by the narrow, sphere of his ambitions. And, indeed, it seemed as though his will, Ws body, and his intellect had all besv stunted by his surroundings. He had the makings of a magnificent man,. but he was merely a pedant, wasting hig physical strength in hours of useless study, and his intellect in the pursuit of useless knowledge. A man of his wealth and talent might have safely flung himself into the arena of politics, where his powers would have been so quickened in the eonfl.'ct that he would soon have borne no more resemblance to his old self that the lion bears to the domestic cat. The following incident will show how the keen devotion to any one subject may destroy all sense of proportion in a man's mind, and how ludicrous the man can become, if that subject is of a trivial character, it also, as I now realise, had considerable bearing on the events which followed it. One day in June 1 called on Dr. Silex after Inneh, and found him positively miserable. He was standing at the window when 1 entered, and I noticed a deep frown on his forehead "Well, Silex." I g.aid, heartly, "how are you? 1 just called in on my way to the club to borrow your pamphlet on 'Compositors in the 18th Century.' I am going to meet a. man who thinks himself an authority. I can read up all I want in the cab. 1 don't know much about that period myself—uninteresting. 1 call it. You look pretty black — what crime are you meditating, eh?" "Haven't you heard about Budlip?" he said gloomily. "No, uot dead, is he?" 1 asked in r.ome alarm. "DcacV replied fir. Silex siivagely "of course Tiot-unless he has- died of nappi- ■ »*4 111 tell you all about it." I "■Ui'.v\,» d °.T n and lit th ' ! cigarette 1 I'liiij? 0 "* me ' " Wel1 " I said ' 1 "If* tiffity this." Tie',snid, "BuS'm ■ •> W/bt a iltMriti Bitt,. for a X ■ -,'. I had h5« letter tV.s morrih," ■ are ,„ the waste-paper ha* ■ 'Lucky th;ip. Bud lip.

"That's one way of looking at it. I call it disgusting. I have been looking out for a copy for seven years. None of the known copies are likely to come into the market. J have been hoping to discover a fresh one. And now, Budlip—well, I'd rather anyone than Budiip had found it." I leant back in my eaair and laughed heartily- Dr. Silex frowned moie deeply than ever, and puffed vigorously at his cigarette. "lou seem amused," he said, coldly. "1 am amused," 1 replied, " I have no copy of the Mazariu Bible myself, bu: I stil] see some prospect* in life." "I'oti don't collect Bibles," he answered, bitterly. "Everyone in Europf knows that you have made a specially of the Lnrly Classics, and that you art tlic first living authority on the subject Of course, you don't care. You an seliish, like all specialists." 1 laughed agaia and rose from my chair. "Where's that book I wanted? 1 said. Silex searched in a drawer o one of the tables, and handed a painph let to mc. I took it and laid one hani on his arm. "Do you know, Silex," I said, serious ly, "that I am very anxious about you and I uant to give you some advice. Yoi. will believe that I am your friend?" "You are my only friend, Cordeaux, he answered. "Well," I continued, "if you will tak< mj r advice j-ou will sell every book yo. have and go out from the seclusion o. this library into the strife of the world Go in for law, medicine, politics, any thing but this. Shoot big game in "A' riea. Try to climb inaccessible moutains. Make an attempt to reach th< eaptial of Thibet. ■ Do anything bu' this- It doesn't suit you. You wan bracing up. t can see you're a fight ing man by your jaw, and you've sun to the level of a tame rabbit. Go c> into the world and get some blows, an r I reckon you'll give as good as you get I'd rather see you digging potatoes in a field than fussing about Budlip an' his Bible. It i 3 well enough for mc but I'm fifteen years older than yon and had done most of mv hard wor! at your age. "Thank you, Cordeaux," he replied with Hushed cheeks and a 'dangerou: sparkle in his eye, "the life suits mi very well, ant 1 think you will confes I - have made some name for myself al ready." '■-<amp, name!" I cried; "yes, yo have made a name, but what have yodone for yourself, for your country, fo tlie world? A lot of responsibility lies-, on your shoulders. A man like yo; should devote his wealth and talents t sonic-thing great. But I mustn't preaci. !?!le.\, and I must absolutely go. Goo. da3\" and I left him, half-amused, am half indignant at this childishness. This apparently trilling incident which had almost passed out of my mc riory has now assumed an important which justifies its narration, for if Pi o ictoiov Budlip had not written that let jler, it is probable that Dr, Silex woui. ftiii be buried in his library at Han bury House. Two days, however, after this incident, 1 was astounded to hear that li himself discovered another fresh of the ilazarin Bible, and a month &i ter that 1 was positively dumbfound , .;, to read in the papers that Dr. Siidx. the bookworm and bibliophile, was goin. to spend a million pounds on an expeui tion to the North Pole. But an ex traordiuary change came over him a. this time, and 1 began to flatter mysei. that mj words had sunk deeply into liih mind. From a quiet student he becaim a bustling man of action, and threw al. his physical and menial energies into the manifold arrangements of the expeui tion. ' Jt was, as most people remember, of enormous size, consisting of no less than twenty ships and one thousand men. It sailed on April 3rd, 1891, and, in spite of all our arguments and entreaties, Dr. Silex himself sailed with it. It reached St. John's, Newfound land, on April 13th, and remained there a, week. Then it left amid a scene of great enthusiasm. 1 read in the "Daily Telegraph" that as the fleet moved slowly down the harbour the captain and Dr. Silex were plainly seen on the bridge of the Aurora waving their caps. Then a reporter described how they became mere specks as the distance increased, and how in an hour's time the ships themselves were only dots on the horizon, and the great Silex expedition passed out of the world of civilisation. A month later a Danish boat from Godhaven arrived in St. John's, and reported that she had passed through the fleet in lat. 53deg. 40min. N. and long. SOdeg. 20min. W., and a month afterwards the Tromso, from Upernavik, said that the look-out man on the mast i\ad seen a few ships on the horizon in lat. 70deg. lOmin. N., long. 58deg. lomin. V}\ Xot long after that we heard from both Godhaven and Upernavik that the fleet had called at these places, and many people had letters from their friend's and relations. But Dr. Silex di>■ not write mc a single line, or if he did, the letttfl never reached mc. After i v .h\at there was no more news of any description. The fleet had apparently beyond the tracks of all vessels and .disappeared into the lonety silence of tin? Polar Seas. A year passed, and no word or sign came from thd JSorth to enlighten the world as to the fate of the expedition. Under ordinary circumstances this would have occasioned no surprise, and certainly no anxiegy in the minds of the explorers' It was fairly cer tain that the fleet W&uld have to spend at least two winters in the ice. There was, however, one circumstance which migbt well bring terror to the hearts of all those wSa 4 watched and waited for the return of the ships, and scientists gravely shook their heads as they pondered over maps'of the Polar Sen. and jotted down certain calculations on paper. On July 23th. 1892. as some may well remember, the whole of the northern part of Europe, Asia and America was visited by one of the most terrible and destructive earthquakes that has ever been recorded in the h'§tory of the world. The loss of Hfq indeed was. considering the enormous aren affected, small, for, with the exception of a few towns in Russia, the countries in the line of the disturbance were either totally uninhabited or only thinly populated with a few wandering tribes of Esquimaux and Samoyads. But the physical effect?) of trie shock were enormous. Lakes and vnlloys were filled up. rivprs turned frnm their courser*, jrront mountains le- . yelled into square miles of rockstrewn

plain, and in tlie lonely tundras of Siberia a mountain of mud, 1000 feet in height, "was cast up from the level wastes by some stupendous subterranean force. Nor did the seas escape the genei'al ■ disturbance orf nature. A huge tidal wave swept from the North and bore the ice down the Da vis , x and Bearing Straits as far as the thirtieth degree of latitude, while the Northern shores of Siberia and America were heaped up I fifty feet high ■with gigantic floes and bergs. The movement of the ocean was felt all over the world, and the tidal wave was said to have reached the northern shores of Australia.

It was not strange that considerable anxiety was felt about tae i-iiex expedition. Whether the ships were in open water or imprisoned in the ice, they must have inevitably perished in os gigantic an upheaval, if they had been in the line of destruction. But. ris one scientist pointed out,, it was, of course, quite possible that they had been outside the track of the seismic wave. Its path was very irregular, and it was noticed that places a few miles from some striking evidence of the earthquake's power had been absolutely unaffected. So much so that in Siberia the town of Alaikha had scarcely been shaken by a faint tremour. while a neighbouring village had been so completely levelled to the ground that no trace of it existed. Moreover, several Arctic explorers said that it was quite possible that the ships had been securely sheltered from the North by the rocky bulwarks of some deep fiord, and that they might have escaped with a severe shock, while perhaps two miles away from them in the open straits nothing could nave lived among the whirling blocks of ice. However, there was grave cause for uneasiness, and many people '-'onfidently expressed an opinion that not i man of the expedition would ever be eeen igain. This opinion was justified. Another year passed, and still another, and the >sorth refused to divulge its secret. The drips were provisioned for five years, and six months before the expiration of that time an American millionaire equipped two vessels to go in search of them. Two years afterwards these ships returned, having thoroughly explored Giant Land, GJrinnel Land and the North of Greenlarid. They reported that they had discovered many evidences of the visit of the ships in the coast of Grant Land. Half-a-lozen broken boats, piles of empt* - tins, part of a rifle, and whole cart loads of idds and ends, such as men leave behind hem after a prolonged stay in a place. Hut not a sign of a wreck or the remains if a hurnar bnng-.

The result of this relief expedition was loubtful. Optimists said that, if the one housand men and twenty ships had been lestroyed, it would scarcely be possible to xplore so limited an area without finding some trace of the expedition. The broken boats meant nothing , . It was easy to lose a boat, or still easier to be obliged to abandon one.

Pessimists, on the other hand, said that if the men had been alive, and the ships \!loat, it would have been impossible to xplore so limited an area without en?ountering at least one ship, and ttiey jave it as their opinion that the earthluake of 1892 had so overwhelmed the .vholc expedition that all traces of xhein were, perhaps, one hundred feet beneath the ice.

And so the state of uncertainty was in'onsified, and up to the beginning of this year women watched with white faces and sick hearts, and looked at the North with pleading eyes as though asking it either to give up its dead or send their dear ones back to them. And men went out and risked their lives to explore the Arctic regions and rescue their fellows from the vhite tomb of the Polar seas. But both vomen waited and men explored in.vain.

Then at ( last all hope was abandoned, ■ml the men were written off of civilisation as dead. Their relatives assumed mourning, and the world forgot. In the last book relating to Polar exploration it is stated that the Silex expedition was probably overwhelmed by 'he great earthquake of 1892.

On March 20th of thi = year I broke up the establishment at Hanbury House. For ten years the housekeeper had ruled the servants with n rod of iron, abating none of her punctiliousness and precision by reason of ber master's nbsence. ' For ten summers the roses in the garden had flowered and faded in all their accustomed spiendour, and for ten winters the fire liad blazed cheerfully in the great library, and the books were aired and dusted with a regularity absolutely unknown when the Doctor himself had been in the house.

But on this date I published the will of Dr. Silex to the world. It was, in effect, a deed of gift. It required no proof of death. It simply provided that, if nothing was heard of him for ton years, his property should be disposed of absolutely in the way he prescribed. The provisions of the will are probably fresh in the memory of everyone who f.akes an interest in the legacies of rich men. He handsomely provided for the housekeeper and all the other servants. He left Hanbury House, with all its contents, including the magnificent library, to mc. Sir John Cordeaux, and I have taken up my residence there. A house and estate of ten thousand acres in Cumberland, which had been in his family for fourteen generations, was left to a second cousin, John Silex. The residue of the estate, amounting to over one million anda-half of money, 'and inherited by Dr. Rilex from his mother, the sole heiress of an x\merican millionaire, was left in trust in perpetuity, the annual income to be applied for the benefit of the labouring classes of his own country.

On the mountains of Cumberland John Silex reared a stately pillar of white marble, which gleams in the sun like snow, and is visible from half the country. At the base he placed an inscription, recording that it had been erected to the memory of one who had given his life in the pursuit of knowledge, and hi? wealth for the good of his fellowmen. And in many towns and villages throughout the- land there are other monuments, less noble in size and design, but perhaps erected in a spirit of deeper sorrow. Some were of stone, some mere crosses of wood, but beneath none of them lie the bodies of men whose names they bear.

This much of the Silex Expedition is known to many of j'ou already. It How only remains for mc to tell yon how the extraordinary narrative which 1 have edited for your perusal came into my possession.

One evening towards the end of September, I was sitting" in the library of Hanbury House and enjoying a cigar after dinner. It was a raw night, and I was glad to sit near the fire. I am a bachelor. Oil this evening I had no companions'.but two wire-hnired terriers who had curled themselves up to the fender as close as. possible. My thoughts had turned to Dr. Silex, and indeed it was hardly possible to help thinking of him in the" room where for so many years he had lived out hio studious quiet life. The very pla.ee breathed of lrm, and apart from the fact of his magnifi-

:ent gift to mc, I was reminded of him by almost everything I set my eyes upon. I began to wonder,/"ah T'often did, whether he was really dead or whether by some miracle he had escaped the terrible cataclysm of 1892. It was strangp I thotight to myself, that not a sing! wreck had been discovered by the relic expedition. Twenty ships had disap peared, as though the earth had swallowed them up. Jdy meditations were interrupted by a footman, who said that a man wished to see mc, and that he was waiting in the hall. From the servant's description, I gathered that he was a rough sort of fellow, and that he had something to deliver to mc. I gave orders for him to be admitted- When he entered, 1] saw at a glance, from his clothes andi walk, that he was a sailor. His face; was tanned to a mahogany colour, andi pitted with small-pox. wore a small' tuft of grizzled hair on his chin, which! was otherwise clean shaven. Under his' arm he held a curious object, which! looted like a six-inch shell. "Well, my man," I said, rising to my feet, and quieting the dogs, who barked and growled furiously. • "Are you Sir John Cordeaux? -, the man said respectfully. "I am," I replied. "This is for you, then," he said, and he handed mc the object under his arm.! t took hold of it in both hands and ex- j amined it carefully. It was conical at both ends and made of some metal, probably steel. It was perfectly black, and covered with dents and ridgei, as though it had been subjected to tremendous blows, and some steady pressure,' that had scrappd long furrows in its surface. I turned it over and over, and looked at the man inquiringly. | "Where did you get it?" I said, "and how do you know it is for mc?" I "I am the captain of the Ardilaun, ar Dundee whaler, sir; we spent last winter icebound off the coast of Spitsbergen. We came acrose this, sir, shortly, after the ice broke up. It was floating in t> small piece of open water." "But why did you bring it to mc?" I isked. i "If you look at it more clo3e]y. sir,"i replied, "you will see. Hold it side-' ways to the light; there's something written on though the lee has scraped it down pretty clean." I I held it to the light and turned it round slowly. Then 1 saw a few faint ■nnrks on the metal which suggested an Ascription. I looked at them again, and made out some letters one tjy one. They formed the following sentence: I '•"Whoever will take this to Sir John Bordeaux, Hanbury House, London!l En eland, will receive £500 rewnrd." V took quite five minutes to ptizzle this out: then I looked up at the man with' i quick glance of suspicion. "I can read it." I said, "but I really •lo not know if it is worth .£SOO. It may be a fraud, or even the work of a pracMcl joker." "I know nothing of it," the man answered, '-except what I have told you, sir," and he looked mc squarely and honistlv in the face. 'It might be worth £500 to mo." I *aid, making an cfTort to bp calm, though the metal case trembled in my hands; "on the other hand, it might not be worth five pence." The man scratched his head, nnd looked as though he were trying to grasp mv view of the case. "It seems as thoutrh thprp were somethin' in what you sny, sir," he said, after a pause. "Yet fini)'"? it wherp we d'd. nhove the Arctic Circle, and knowing when I got home, from the papers, as how you were a great friend of Dr. Silex, it occurred to mc that it might be from him." "Well, look here." I answered, only too anxious to set rid ( f him and open the case, "if it is from Dr. Silex and eontnins any news of the expedition. I will eiv e you the £500. If It is nothing of interest to mc, I will give you £ 10 for your trouble." '■Very good, sir-" "C'nll again to-morrow..'" I said, '"'about 12 o'clock. Cood-n'ght." "Good night, sir," he rpplFed. and left the room. Whpn he had gone, I rang the bell and usrain examined tfhe. meta-1 casket. It appeared to mc to be made in two pieces, one fitting on the other like the lid of a box. nml both soldered together in the nvdil'c. When the footroan entpred, I told him to bring some files, a chisel, and a hnmmor. In a few minutes he returned, and then I sot to work to 'crack this nut of steel and extricate the kernel. It was hard work, 'and when at last I man acred to loosen one piece from the other, the clock was striking twelve. Trembling with excitement, I drew out the contents, a hard bulky ej-linder wrapped in oiled silk. I quickly tore oft" this ( covering and smoothed out a thick roll of manuscript. I glanced enger'y at the writing and gave, a cry of pleasure. The captain of the Ardilaun had earned his £500. The manuscript contained more than three hundred pages of close writing, inscribpd on some fine, transparent material like gold-beaters' skin, and all of it was in the handwriting of Dγ Sllex. I threw myself into a chair and commenced to read. It w.as not till five o'clock in the morning that I finished the last page. I had kept the fire burning brightly in the grate before mc. but, as I made my way up to my room, I shivered as though I had been handling a block of ice. The following is the narrative, given word for word a3 Di\ Silex wrote it. I publish it to the world without further comment. CHAPTER I. . THE MAZARIN BIBLE. I cannot give you any clear and complete account of the events that have happened since I last saw you, Cordeaux, without revesting to matters which happened some time before I left England. On the 12th of June, 1890—1 have good reason to remember the date —1 was sitting by myself in my library at Hanbury House, and as miserable a.a 1 then imagined a man could lie. It .would seem hard, as you know, for a lover of books to be unhappy in that room. The very walls were cased with books from floor to ceiling. Revolving bookcases groaned with them. The tables were littered with them, an 1 even the chairs held a few volumes that had strayed from their shelves. The contents of my library would have en lowed any hospital in London with a hundsome income for ever. Yet I was miserable, and my latent purchase—an Editio Prineeps- of Virgil, printed by Sweynheym and Pannartz. lay "almost unnoticed on my knees: For I had a letter in my pocket,' the -con-' tents of which were large enough to occupy all my thoughts and gloomy enough to cloud'all my happiness. It was only a short note which had arrived befare breakfast.* I drew it from my pocket again, and read it over three times. Then I tore it up -angrily, and threw the pieces into t-Tie waste-paper basket. If you could recollect so trivial an

event as your visit to mc that you would remember that the letter was from"■ Professor• Budlip, and that it' announced his purchase of a copy of the *- ••".■ *»:>, - -- + ~ rVHonlously low price. You made some very senthing remarks to mc about the use I was making of my Die, and ridiculed my intense devotion to my books. I think that the course of events which has led *\j im j.nacjii o 0.l was first set in motion by those few words of yours. When you left the room, they were stiJJ ringing in my ears. I walked over to the window and looked out into my garden, which was glowing with thousands of roses, white, yellow, pink, and crimson, in every conceivable shade and variety, but even the flowers could not distract my thoughts from your ivords. I was the more nnnoyed with what you had said because it merely emphasised the vague whisperings of my own consciousness. 1 had always managed to ->tifle these whispers but your voice is too loud and precise for a men to turn a deaf ear to anything you may say. And I told myself that perhaps you were right after all, and that there were better things in the world than books, and objects more worthy of ' a man's strength and intellect. Yet the words were no comfort to my mind. Even if they were it was still aiost irritating that Eudlfp should have sot the Mazarin its value. * '*> My meditations were interrupted by he entrance of a footman bearing some letters. I took them from him without my show of interest. The 2.30 post was nerely local, and was ehiefiy composed jf circulars. I tore three or four of rhese across without opening them, put aside two book catalogues, and opened the only letter, a square envelope of very :!iiek paper, addressed in a large angular handwriting. But as 1 read the contents I gave a sudden exclamation of surprise, and my ands trembled With excite-nent. I r.ead the letter again and again, pacing up and d»wn the room wi'.h rapid strides. A poor man who had just come into a great inheritance crald scarcely have telt or shown a greater joy. In one rioment I had I'een lifted from the iepths of despair to the seventh heaven .if delight. The letter ran as follows: — '"Silent Square, W.—Dear Sir, —I saw '.n last niaht's paper that Professor iitdlip had sectored a copy of theMazarin .iible, printed by Gutenberg and Fust, aaking ihe eighth copy known to exist in the world. The paper went on to -date the 'whereabouts of the known opies. and offered an opinion that no would be discovered, as for over wo hundred years the value of the book had been almost universally known ;ind collectors had searched the world for it. In this the writer of the article is mistaken. I have a copy in my possession, and am open to an offer for the same. I can, moreover, sell it to you at in entirely inadequate price, if you will do mc a favour which will cost you lothing but a little personal exertioa >n my behalf. "If you will make your way to Pep)'.es Square. Kotting Hill, W., you will aye no difficulty in finding my resilenre. For some reason or other, it is neither on the map nor in the directory. I shall be in to-morrow between three nd seven.—l am, your obedient servant, JOHN SILVER." I went to a table and unfolded a large map of London. After a considerable searcii and many references to the index, 1 found Peebles Square. It was in the centre of a dense mr.ss of small and crooked streets, and appeared to have only one entrance. As tiie writer of the letter said, there was no Silent Square to be found in the neighbourhood, nor was there any such name in the index. This did not strike mc as peculiar, for the best London maps are very defective, ■ especially in the outlying and crowded districts. I folded up the map and rang the bell. When the footman entered I told him to call a hansom. Then I went to a writing-table, unlocked one of the drawers, and taking out n cheque-book, placed it in my pocket. In a minute or two the man returned and said that the hansom was at the door. "It shall not be in till dinner timp." I s'.ud as I got into the cab, "and if Professor Budlip calls, say 1 am sorry to have missed him, but I have an important engagement. Tell the man to drive to Peebles Square, Notting Hill, W." "Never 'card of sieh n place, sir," said the driver from the roof. "Well, drive to Xoiting Hill and ask." I answered sharply, "it's not my business to direct you." The man whipped up his horse. I leant back on the cushions and lit a cigar. Then I pulled out the lotter and re-read it. I could scarcely believe my ?ood fortune, but I should have found it harder .to believe that this drive to Peebles Square was but the first step to the accomplishment of a journey which would take up two years of mv life. (To be continued Wednesday next.)