‘ “Did you come again?” she asked.
‘Briefly I told her of my visit and the message I had left with the caretaker.
‘ “What an extraordinary thing!” she exclaimed. “I can’t begin to understand it. But we shall soon hear his explanation. I expect him at any moment now. He comes in every morning to sweep the floors.”
‘At the prospect of meeting the remarkable old man again I felt a thrill of excitement. How would he look by daylight? Should I see him smile again?
‘ “Very old, isn’t he?” I hazarded.
‘ “Old? Yes, I suppose he is getting on, but it’s a very easy job. He’s a good, honest fellow. I can’t imagine his doing anything on the sly. I’m afraid we’ve been rather slack in our cataloguing lately. I wonder if he does sell odds and ends for himself? Oh no, I can’t believe it! By the way, can you remember whereabouts this frog was?”
‘I pointed to the shelf from which the caretaker had produced the piece of jade.
‘ “Oh, from that odd lot I bought the other day for next to nothing. I haven’t sorted or priced any of the things yet. I can’t remember any frog. What
an incredible thing to happen!”
‘At this moment the telephone rang. She lifted the receiver.
‘ “Hullo? Hullo? Yes, Miss Wilson speaking. Yes, Mrs Holmes, what is it?”
‘A few seconds’ startled pause, and then, “Dead? Dead? But how? Why? Oh, I am sorry!”
‘After a few more words she replaced the receiver and turned to us, her eyes full of tears.
‘ “Oh, Bessie,” she said to her sister. “Poor old Holmes is dead. When he got home yesterday he complained of pain, and he died in the middle of the night – heart failure. No one had any idea there was anything the matter with him. Oh, poor Mrs Holmes! What will she do? We must go to her at once!”
‘Both girls were so much upset that I thought it best to leave.
‘The singular old man had made so haunting an impression upon me that I was deeply moved to hear of his sudden death. How strange that, except for his wife, I should have been the very last person to speak with him. No doubt pain had seized him in my very presence. That was why he had left so abruptly and without a word. Had death already brushed against his consciousness? That lovely, inexplicable smile? Was that the beginning of the peace that passes all understanding?
‘Next day I told Miss Wilson and her sister all the details of the fabulous sale of the frog, and presented my cheque. Here I met with unexpected opposition. The sisters showed great unwillingness to accept the money. It was, they said, all mine. Besides they had no need of it.
‘ “You see,” explained Miss Wilson, “my father had a flair for this business amounting to a sort of genius. He made quite a large fortune. When he became too old to carry on the shop, we kept it open, partly out of sentiment, partly for the sake of occupation. But we don’t need to make any profit.”
‘At last I prevailed upon them to accept the money, if only to spend it on the various charities in which they were interested. It was a relief to my mind when the matter was settled.
‘The extraordinary incident of the jade frog made a bond between us, and in the course of our amicable arguments we became very friendly. I fell into the way of dropping in on them quite often, and soon began quite to rely on their sympathetic companionship.
‘I never forgot the impression made on me by the old man, and often questioned the sisters about the poor caretaker, but they had nothing of any interest to tell me. They merely described him as an “old dear” who had been in their father’s service for years and years. No further light was thrown on his sale of the frog. Naturally, they did not like to question his widow.
‘One evening while I was having tea in the inner room with the elder sister, I picked up a photograph album. Turning its pages, I came on a remarkably fine likeness of the old man. There, before my eyes was that strange, striking countenance; but evidently this photograph had been taken many years before I saw him. The face was fuller and had not yet acquired the frail, infinitely wearied look I remembered. But what magnificent eyes! There certainly was something extraordinarily impressive about the man.
‘ “What a splendid photograph of poor old Holmes!” I said.
‘ “Photograph of Holmes? I’d no idea there was one. Let’s see.”
‘As I handed her the open book, her young sister, Bessie, looked in through the open door.
‘ “I’m off to the movies now,” she called out. “Father’s just rung up to say he’ll be round in a few minutes to have a look at that Sheraton sideboard.’
‘ “All right, Bessie, I’ll be here, and very glad to have father’s opinion,” said Miss Wilson, taking the album from my hand.
‘ “I can’t see any photograph of old Holmes,” she said.
‘I pointed to the top of the page.
‘ “That?” she exclaimed. “Why, that’s my dear father!”