“I don’t know, Doctor,” he answered in a thin voice, for like the rest of us he was growing feeble on a water-diet.  “I suppose it amuses me to think how jolly it would be to open all these boxes in my rooms in London after a first-rate dinner of fried sole and steak cut thick,” and he smacked his poor, hungry lips.  “Yes, yes,” he went on, “to take them out one by one and show them to ——­ and ——­,” and he mentioned by name officials of sundry great museums with whom he was at war, “and see them tear their hair with rage and jealousy, while they wondered in their hearts if they could not manage to seize the lot for the Crown as treasure-trove, or do me out of them somehow,” and he laughed a little in his old, pleasant fashion.

“Of course I never shall,” he added sadly, “but perhaps one day some other fellow will find them here and get them to Europe, and if he is a decent chap, publish my notes and descriptions, of which I have put a duplicate in each box, and so make my name immortal.  Well, I’m off again.  There are four more cases to fill before the oil gives out, and I must get that great gold head into one of them, though it is an awful job to carry it far at a time.  Doctor, what disease is it that makes your legs suddenly give way beneath you, so that you find yourself sitting in a heap on the floor without knowing how you came there?  You don’t know?  Well, no more do I, but I’ve got it bad.  I tell you I’m downright sore behind from continual and unexpected contact with the rock.”

Poor old Higgs!  I did not like to tell him that his disease was starvation.

Well, he went on with his fetching and carrying and cataloguing and packing.  I remember that the last load he brought in was the golden head he had spoken of, the wonderful likeness of some prehistoric king which has since excited so much interest throughout the world.  The thing being too heavy for him to carry in his weakened state, for it is much over life-size, he was obliged to roll it before him, which accounts for the present somewhat damaged condition of the nose and semi-Egyptian diadem.

Never shall I forget the sight of the Professor as he appeared out of the darkness, shuffling along upon his knees where his garments were worn into holes, and by the feeble light of the lamp that he moved from time to time, painfully pushing the great yellow object forward, only a foot or two at each push.

“Here it is at last,” he gasped triumphantly, whilst we watched him with indifferent eyes.  “Japhet, help me to wrap it up in the mat and lift it into the box.  No, no, you donkey—­face upward—­so.  Never mind the corners, I’ll fill them with ring-money and other trifles,” and out of his wide pockets he emptied a golden shower, amongst which he sifted handfuls of dust from the floor and anything else he could find to serve as packing, finally covering all with a goat’s-hair blanket which he took from his bed.

Then very slowly he found the lid of the box and nailed it down, resting between every few strokes of the hammer whilst we watched him in our intent, but idle, fashion, wondering at the strange form of his madness.