ough his own tasks. It
will not be necessary for you to read the whole book. All that will
interest you--with regard to our matter I mean of course, for the whole
book is interesting as a record of travel in a country then quite
unknown--is the preface, and two or three chapters which I shall mark
for you."

He shook hands warmly with Doctor Winchester who had stood up to go.

Whilst he was away I sat lonely, thinking. As I thought, the world
around me seemed to be illimitably great. The only little spot in
which I was interested seemed like a tiny speck in the midst of a
wilderness. Without and around it were darkness and unknown danger,
pressing in from every side. And the central figure in our little
oasis was one of sweetness and beauty. A figure one could love; could
work for; could die for...!

Mr. Corbeck came back in a very short time with the book; he had found
it at once in the spot where he had seen it three years before. Having
placed in it several slips of paper, marking the places where I was to
read, he put it into my hands, saying:

"That is what started Mr. Trelawny; what started me when I read it; and
which will, I have no doubt, be to you an interesting beginning to a
special study--whatever the end may be. If, indeed, any of us here may
ever see the end."

At the door he paused and said:

"I want to take back one thing. That Detective is a good fellow. What
you have told me of him puts him in a new light. The best proof of it
is that I can go quietly to sleep tonight, and leave the lamps in his
care!"

When he had gone I took the book with me, put on my respirator, and
went to my spell of duty in the sick-room!

Chapter X

The Valley of the Sorcerer

I placed the book on the little table on which the shaded lamp rested
and moved the screen to one side. Thus I could have the light on my
book; and by looking up, see the bed, and the Nurse, and the door. I
cannot say that the conditions were enjoyable, or calculated to allow
of that absorption in the subject which is advisable for effective
study. However, I composed myself to the work as well as I could. The
book was one which, on the very face of it, required special attention.
It was a folio in Dutch, printed in Amsterdam in 1650. Some one had
made a literal translation, writing generally the English word under
the Dutch, so that the grammatical differences between the two tongues
made even the reading of the tran