The years he passed in solitary confinement, separated from Captain Zo, whose discretion he never doubted, were anything but pleasant to him. In 1842, in the eighth year of his imprisonment, he managed, through the connivance of a gaoler, to send away a few letters, one of them to Captain Thomas Antifer of St. Malo. An envelope containing his will also reached the hands of Ben Omar, who had formerly been his notary at Alexandria.
Three years afterwards Captain Zo died, and Kamylk remained the only one who knew where the treasure had been buried. But his health declined visibly, and the severity of his imprisonment could not but shorten a life which would have lasted for years beyond the walls of his cell. At length in 1852 he died, forgotten by those who had known him, without either menaces or ill-treatment forcing him to reveal his secret.
Next year his unworthy cousin followed him to the grave, without having enjoyed the immense riches he coveted, and which had led him to such criminal devices.
But Mourad left a son, Saouk, who inherited all his father’s evil instincts. Although he was then but twenty-three, he had lived a violent, unscrupulous life among the political and other bandits who then swarmed in Egypt. As the only heir of Kamylk Pasha, it was to him that the inheritance would have come had it not been put beyond his reach, and consequently his anger knew no bounds when—as he thought—the secret of the whereabouts of this immense fortune disappeared with the death of the Pasha.
Ten years went by, and Saouk had given up all hopes of ever ascertaining what had become of the lost treasure.
Judge then of the effect on him of a letter received early in 1862, inviting him to visit the office of the notary Ben Omar on important business.
Saouk knew this notary: timid to excess, an arrant poltroon, with whom a determined man like himself could do anything he pleased. So he went to Alexandria, and unceremoniously asked Ben Omar for what reason he wished to see him.
Ben Omar was most obsequious in his reception of this client whom he believed capable of everything, even of strangling him straightaway. He apologized for having put him to inconvenience, and said to him in his sweetest tone,—
“But is it not the sole heir of Kamylk Pasha that I have the honour of addressing?”
“Just so, the sole heir,” said Saouk, “for I am the son of Mourad, who was his cousin.”
“Are you sure that there is no other relative in the line of succession than you?”
“None. Kamylk Pasha has no heir but me. Only, where is the inheritance?”
“Here—at your Excellency’s disposal.”
Saouk grasped at the envelope handed him by the notary.
“What is in this envelope?” he asked.
“The will of Kamylk Pasha.”
“And how did it get into your hands?”
“It reached me a few years after he was imprisoned in the fortress at Cairo.”
“How long ago?”
“Twenty years.”
“Twenty years!” exclaimed Saouk. “And he has been dead ten years now—and you have waited—”
“Read, Excellency.”
Saouk read the writing on the envelope. It said that this will was not to be opened until ten years after the testator’s death.
“Kamylk Pasha died in 1852,” said the notary. “It is now 1862, and that is why I sent for your Excellency.”
“Cursed formalist!” exclaimed Saouk. “For ten years I ought to have been in possession.”
“If the will is in your favour?” suggested the notary.
“In my favour. Who else can there be? I will soon know—”
And he was about to break the seal when Ben Omar stopped him.
“In your own interest, Excellency, it had better be done in the proper form, in the presence of witnesses.”
And opening the door Ben Omar introduced two merchants of the neighbourhood, whom he had asked to attend. These were to testify that the envelope was intact, and that it had been opened in their presence.
The will was not very long, it was in French and as follows:—
“I appoint as my executor Ben Omar, notary of Alexandria, to whom I leave a commission of one per centum on my fortune in gold, diamonds and precious stones, of the estimated value of four million pounds sterling. In the month of September, 1831, three casks containing this treasure were buried in a hole dug at the southern point of a certain islet. Of this islet it will be easy to discover the position by combining the longitude of fifty-four degrees fifty-seven minutes east, with a latitude secretly sent in 1842 to Thomas Antifer, of St. Malo, in France. Ben Omar in person is to take this longitude of fifty-four degrees fifty-seven minutes east to the said Thomas Antifer, or his nearest heir. But he is to accompany the said heir in the search for the discovery of the treasure, which is buried at the base of a rock marked with the double K of my name. To the exclusion of my unworthy cousin Mourad, and his still more unworthy son Saouk, Ben Omar will hasten to put himself in communication with Thomas Antifer, or his direct heirs, and with him follow the formal instructions that will be found in the course of the said search. Such is my last will, and I desire that it shall be respected in all its bearings and consequences.
“Written this 9th of February, 1842, in the prison at Cairo, by my own hand.
“Kamylk Pasha.”
We need not dwell on the reception given by Saouk to this curious will, nor to the agreeable surprise manifested by Ben Omar at the one per cent, on four millions which was to come to him on handing over the treasure. But the treasure had to be found, and the only way to discover the position of the islet was by combining the longitude given in the will with the latitude known only to Thomas Antifer.
Saouk immediately devised a scheme, and Ben Omar, under terrible threats, became his accomplice in it. They soon discovered that Thomas Antifer had died in 1854, leaving an only son. To this son they would go, and by skilful management obtain from him the secret of the latitude and then they would take possession of the fortune, and Ben Omar should have his commission.
This scheme Saouk and the notary set about without delay. They left Alexandria, landed at Marseilles, took the Paris express, and then went on to St. Malo, where they had arrived that morning.
Neither Saouk nor Ben Omar expected that there would be any difficulty in obtaining from Antifer the letter, of which they knew the value, and which contained the precious latitude—and they were prepared to buy it if necessary. We know how the attempt had failed. We shall not be astonished, therefore, at the irritation which his Excellency displayed, at his endeavouring to hold Ben Omar responsible for his ill-success, and at the noisy scene in the hotel, from which the unfortunate notary feared he would never emerge alive.
“Yes,” said Saouk, “it is your bungling that has caused it all! You did not know what you were about! You let yourself be played with by this sailor, you, a notary! But do not forget what I told you! Woe to you if Kamylk’s millions escape me!”
“I swear to you, Excellency—”
“And I swear to you, that if I do not attain my object you shall pay for it, and pay well!”
And Ben Omar knew only too well that Saouk was the man to keep his word.
“You must remember, Excellency, that this sailor is not one of those miserable fellahs, easily deceived and easily frightened”
“No matter.”
“No! He