Page:The Yellow Book - 08.djvu/152

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132
The Enchanted Stone

was in semi-darkness. Fog lurked in the corners. The leaping fire threw fantastic reflections upon the window pane. That was the sole illumination.

As I lay there thinking, thinking, a sound came to me through the darkness like a cat scratching upon glass. Raising myself upon my elbow, I looked hard at the window whence the noise proceeded, and as I stared, a face, a thin, ascetic face, yellow, like a Mongolian's, with deep, searching eyes, and a restless mouth, shaped itself out of the surrounding gloom.

For a moment we stared at one another, and then an idea leapt into my mind. Slowly I arose from the sofa, lifted the stone from my coat pocket, and placed it upon the table within a foot from the window.

The thin scratch, scratch of a diamond cutting through glass fell upon my ear, then a pane was softly withdrawn from its frame, and through the opening a long yellow hand extended itself towards the stone, seized it, and disappeared back into the fog. I waited breathlessly for the pane to be replaced, but instead five bank notes fluttered through the opening, and fell upon the table. Then the glass returned noislessly into position, and the face disappeared from behind the window. ***** The above is a true account of the strange chance that brought the Enchanted Stone into my possession, and of the expedient by which I got rid of it. What I did with the £5000, together with the wonderful and fruitful adventures that befell the Enchanted Stone, and all those who became associated with it, I may perhaps tell at some future time.