ept that it has lost the place which it held
amongst commercial cities. Its externals are such as they had been
then; in such a sleepy old place a century or two does not count for
much. I found the house, and discovered that none of the descendants
were alive. I searched records; but only to one end--death and
extinction. Then I set me to work to find what had become of his
treasures; for that such a traveller must have had great treasures was
apparent. I traced a good many to museums in Leyden, Utrecht, and
Amsterdam; and some few to the private houses of rich collectors. At
last, in the shop of an old watchmaker and jeweller at Hoorn, I found
what he considered his chiefest treasure; a great ruby, carven like a
scarab, with seven stars, and engraven with hieroglyphics. The old man
did not know hieroglyphic character, and in his old-world, sleepy life,
the philological discoveries of recent years had not reached him. He
did not know anything of Van Huyn, except that such a person had been,
and that his name was, during two centuries, venerated in the town as a
great traveller. He valued the jewel as only a rare stone, spoiled in
part by the cutting; and though he was at first loth to part with such
an unique gem, he became amenable ultimately to commercial reason. I
had a full purse, since I bought for Mr. Trelawny, who is, as I suppose
you know, immensely wealthy. I was shortly on my way back to London,
with the Star Ruby safe in my pocket-book; and in my heart a joy and
exultation which knew no bounds.

"For here we were with proof of Van Huyn's wonderful story. The jewel
was put in security in Mr. Trelawny's great safe; and we started out on
our journey of exploration in full hope.

"Mr. Trelawny was, at the last, loth to leave his young wife whom he
dearly loved; but she, who loved him equally, knew his longing to
prosecute the search. So keeping to herself, as all good women do, all
her anxieties--which in her case were special--she bade him follow out
his bent."

Chapter XI

A Queen's Tomb

"Mr. Trelawny's hope was at least as great as my own. He is not so
volatile a man as I am, prone to ups and downs of hope and despair; but
he has a fixed purpose which crystallises hope into belief. At times I
had feared that there might have been two such stones, or that the
adventures of Van Huyn were traveller's fictions, based on some
ordinary acquisition of the curio in Alexandria or Cairo, or