Fayyum, were the alleged poems of Sappho. You swallowed the bait which
has waited for you so long, and, if it is any consolation to you, I will
admit that in the opinion of the profession, to continue my piscatorial
simile, I have landed the largest salmon.'

'I am deeply sensible of the compliment, but I must point out to you, my
friend, that your coming to tell me that a papyrus I happen to have
purchased from one of your shady friends is counterfeit, does not
necessarily prove it to be so.'

The Professor realised that he must act cautiously, and consider his
position quietly. Each word must be charged with suppressed meaning. His
eyes wandered over the room, resting now and again on the majestic,
impassive smile of the mummy. It seemed to restore his nerve. He found
himself unconsciously looking towards it over Carrel's head each time he
spoke. While the blackmailer, seated once more, gazed up to his face
with a defiant, insolent stare, swinging his chair backwards and
forwards, unconcerned at the length of the interview, apparently careless
of its issue. The Professor brooded on the terrible chagrin, the wounded
vanity of discovering himself the victim of an obviously long-contrived
hoax. At his asking for a proof, Carrel laughed.

'You are sceptical at last,' he sneered. 'I have the missing portions of
the papyrus here with me. You can have them for a song. I was afraid to
leave the roll too complete, lest I should invite detection. It would be
a pity to let them go to some other museum. Berlin is longing for a new
acquisition.'

Then he produced from his bag damning evidence of the truth of his
story--deftly confected sheets of papyrus, brown with the months it had