BY THE SAME AUTHOR

Idols
SEPTIMUS
the usurper
the white Dove
the beloved vagabond
the demagogue and Lady PHAYRE
the morals of Marcus ORDEYNE
at the Gate of Samaria
A Study in shadows
Simon the Jester
where Love is
derelicts

[Illustration:  “I heard it.  I felt it.  It was like the beating of wings.”]

A CHRISTMAS MYSTERY THE STORY OF THREE WISE MEN

BY WILLIAM J. LOCKE

ILLUSTRATED BY BLENDON CAMPBELL

1910

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

“I heard it.  I felt it.  It was like the beating of wings.”  Frontispiece

“I told you the place was uncanny.”

Instinctively they all knelt down.

Carried with them an inalienable joy and possession into the great world.

A CHRISTMAS MYSTERY

Three men who had gained great fame and honour throughout the world met unexpectedly in front of the bookstall at Paddington Station.  Like most of the great ones of the earth they were personally acquainted, and they exchanged surprised greetings.

Sir Angus McCurdie, the eminent physicist, scowled at the two others beneath his heavy black eyebrows.

“I’m going to a God-forsaken place in Cornwall called Trehenna,” said he.

“That’s odd; so am I,” croaked Professor Biggleswade.  He was a little, untidy man with round spectacles, a fringe of greyish beard and a weak, rasping voice, and he knew more of Assyriology than any man, living or dead.  A flippant pupil once remarked that the Professor’s face was furnished with a Babylonic cuneiform in lieu of features.

“People called Deverill, at Foulis Castle?” asked Sir Angus.

“Yes,” replied Professor Biggleswade.

“How curious!  I am going to the Deverills, too,” said the third man.

This man was the Right Honourable Viscount Doyne, the renowned Empire Builder and Administrator, around whose solitary and remote life popular imagination had woven many legends.  He looked at the world through tired grey eyes, and the heavy, drooping, blonde moustache seemed tired, too, and had dragged down the tired face into deep furrows.  He was smoking a long black cigar.

“I suppose we may as well travel down together,” said Sir Angus, not very cordially.

Lord Doyne said courteously:  “I have a reserved carriage.  The railway company is always good enough to place one at my disposal.  It would give me great pleasure if you would share it.”