The Dark Star

There were writing materials of sandalwood, a few sea shells, a dozen

books in German with many steel plate engravings; also a red Turkish

fez with a dark blue tassel; two pairs of gold-rimmed spectacles;

several tobacco pipes of Dresden porcelain, a case full of instruments

for mechanical drawing, a thick blank book bound in calf and

containing the diary of the late Herr Wilner down to within a few

minutes before his death.

Also there was a figure in bronze, encrusted with tarnished gold and

faded traces of polychrome decoration.

Erlik, the Yellow Devil, as Herr Wilner called it, seemed too heavy to

be a hollow casting, and yet, when shaken, something within rattled

faintly, as though when the molten metal was cooling a fissure formed

inside, into which a few loose fragments of bronze had fallen.

It apparently had not been made to represent any benign Chinese god;

the aspect of the yellow figure was anything but benevolent. The

features were terrific; scowls infested its grotesque countenance;

threatening brows bent inward; angry eyes rolled in apparent fury; its

double gesture with sword and javelin was violent and almost

humorously menacing. And Ruhannah adored it.

For a little while the child played her usual game of frightening her

doll with the Yellow Devil and then rescuing her by the aid of a fairy

prince which she herself had designed, smeared with water-colours, and

cut out with scissors from a piece of cardboard.

After a time she turned to the remaining treasures in the wonder-box.

These consisted of several volumes containing photographs, others full

of sketches in pencil and water-colour, and a thick roll of glazed

linen scrolls covered with designs in India ink.

The photographs were of all sorts--landscapes, rivers, ships in dock,

dry dock, and at sea; lighthouses, forts, horses carrying soldiers

armed with lances and wearing the red fez; artillery on the march,

infantry, groups of officers, all wearing the same sort of fez which

lay there in Herr Wilner's box of olive wood.

There were drawings, too--sketches of cannon, of rifles, of swords;

drawings of soldiers in various gay uniforms, all carefully coloured

by hand. There were pictures of ships, from the sterns of which the

crescent flag floated lazily; sketches of great, ugly-looking objects

which her father explained were Turkish ironclads. The name "ironclad"

always sounded menacing and formidable to the child, and the

forbidding pictures fascinated her.

Then there were scores and scores of scrolls made out of slippery

white linen, on which had been drawn all sorts of most amazing

geometrical designs in ink.

"Plans," her father explained vaguely. And, when pressed by reiterated

questions: "Plans for military works, I believe--forts, docks,

barracks, fortified cuts and bridges. You are not yet quite old enough

to understand, Ruhannah."