THE BATTAEION
9
was that my want of sleep unnerved me. I was certainly not
in the right frame of mind for business. At last the capital
ist came in, his appearance even more prepossessing by day
than when he so suddenly opened his mission the night be
fore.
“I trust, ,5 he said, on taking his seat, “now that you
hs?ve slept upon it, you will see no objection to taking me in
as a partner. My heart is quite set upon success in this mat
ter, and I see a fortune in view for us all, when I have once
put into the business the ample means at my disposal.
There was a red jar of common pottery on the table at
'V
his side. In putting down his hat, he pushed the jar, to
make room for it, a little way from him. His doing so
brought into view the Egyptian design I had embossed
upon it by a second firing—a creature with jackal head and
human figure. He smiled at the sight of it. The smile
struck me as rather sad than sardonic; but I felt Olsen shud
der again. He sat close by me, so close that my elbow
touched his. I was between him and our visitor, hiding him
completely from the Hebrew’s eyes, now intent on the image
of infernal Set.
Presently, however, as though with a great effort, he
rose and passed around the table in rear of Mr. Lamb, who,
after touching the god on the snout curiously, had turned
away and was leaning forward in a listening attitude, wait
ing no doubt for my reply.
Olsen touched the jar, and fell to the floor immediately,
as if he had received an electric shock.