# The Black Cat (magazine)/Volume 1/Number 7/The Compass of Fortune

The Compass of Fortune.
by Eugene Shade Bisbee.
A FEW days after his return to New York from twenty years' prospecting in South America, Alfred Leighton found the following letter at his hotel:—
"Buena Vista, Tarryville-on-the-Hudson, April 26, 189-.
"Dear Alfred: A moment ago, to my astonishmentand delight, I ran across your name among yesterday's hotel arrivals. I won't waste words in telling you what pleasure this news gives me, but write at once to ask you to come up here with bag and baggage, so that we may talk over old times and compare notes as to how the world has used us since we parted thirty years ago.
"Telegraph when you are coming, and I will meet you at the train.
"Yours, as of yore,
Melville Barrett."
For a moment after finishing the letter Leighton stood dum-founded, his mind swiftly gathering up the threads of long-forgotten experiences and friendships. It was now almost thirty years since he and Melville Barrett had chummed together at college, but the letter and the signature were enough to recall the brilliant, luckless fellow who had been Leighton's room mate during the latter's senior year. As nearly as he could remember, Barrett, in spite of his mental gifts, had never got on in the world, and, at last accounts, had gone West where he had dropped out of sight apparently for good and all. And now, behold he had turned up again in the character of a landed proprietor! Had Barrett at last struck it rich?
Five hours later when, after a drive in a well-appointed landau ​through a winding avenue, the carriage stopped at a big colonial mansion, and Leighton was ushered into an imposing hallway, carpeted with oriental rugs and decorated with tropical plants and curios from many lands, his mind recurred to the same question. And during the dinner that followed , served by well-trained servants, in a tapestry-hung dining-room, and the hour spent examining the rare plants in the adjoining conservatory, Leighton found himself varying the question by the mental inquiry, "How had Barrett struck it rich?"
For an answer to this question he had not long to wait. As the two men sat together before the open fire in the library, over their Havanas and after-dinner coffee, reviving the experiences of years ago, Barrett suddenly exclaimed, turning to his com panion:—
"I suppose you are surprised to find me, at last, a property holder, instead of the luckless, poverty-stricken chap you used to know. Very likely, you've been wondering whether I have fallen heir to a fortune." Then, hardly noticing his friend's evasive answer, be continued: "I have come into a fortune, but not through the death of friend or relative. In fact, the manner in which it was gained was so extraordinary that neither I nor the friend who shared the adventure have cared to speak about it. And people simply know that, like so many others, we struck it rich in the land of gold. But you who were the companion of my college days, and so know that I never took any stock in the supernatural, will, I am sure, believe what I have to tell you, especially as I hold the proof. If its duplicate can be produced by human hands, then I am ready to accept any commonplace explanation that the maker may offer.
"The whole thing is as great a mystery to me to -day as when it happened, eighteen years ago. My friend Mitchell and I had been hunting in the mountains of Southern California for a couple of weeks, and were returning by easy stages to the stock ranch where we both were employed. One evening, about the third day of our journey, we made camp in one of the most picturesque spots in all that beautiful country. A deep green valley stretched before us, high, snow -crowned mountains on either side, while far away down the silver stream that flowed through the valley could ​be seen the undulating country of the grape and orange—a full hundred miles away.
"Mitchell had finished his duties as cook, and we had despatched a delicious supper of broiled venison, potatoes, and coffee, just as fire gave forth the sun was sinking beyond our vision . The camp fire a cheery glow as we sat and smoked our pipes, recounting the day's sport; while every now and then the stillness was broken by the deep howl of a gray mountain wolf,—a blood-chilling sound even to an old hunter, and thus altogether different from the bark and yelp of the coyote of the plains. Twenty years ago the Sierra Nevadas were alive with game, and many a time have I sat by the ashes of our fire on a morning early, and thrown stones at an inquisitive black-tail deer, undismayed by his first sight of man. On this evening, however, after we had finished our smoke and looked after our horses and pack-mules, we rolled in our blankets, and, with saddles for pillows and our heavy sombreros covering our faces, were soon asleep.
"My next conscious thoughts were of warmth on my face, and I sat up suddenly to find the sun just above the treetops. Giving Mitchell a rousing slap on the back, I set about getting a fire, at which task he joined me a moment later. Soon we had started a tiny blaze, but the dew-damp wood would not catch according to my fancy and I stooped to blow it. It caught, and I raised my head. As I did so I saw the strangest figure that ever met my eyes.
"At first Mitchell did not see it, for, though near, it stood just behind him. But as my look of amazement caught Mitchell's eye, with a 'What the devil is the matter with—?' he turned his head; and the words died on his lips. What had so astonished me was nothing more nor less than the form of a man , but a man whose like I had never seen nor imagined. In the first place he seemed to be at the very least seven feet high, and, even shrouded as he was by the folds of his odd costume, magnificently proportioned. He was garbed in a flowing gown of white, wound around by a broad crimson sash , into which were stuck two daggers and a long curved sword with a handle of gold set with jewels; while a huge turban of oriental fashion, snow-white like his gown, crowned his head. Beneath the turban gleamed two eyes, small, but piercingly brilliant, while the lower part of ​the dark oval face was half hidden by his most remarkable feature, a moustache, jet black, and as long as the horns of a big steer—a comparison which its graceful curves still further suggested. What finally riveted our attention, however, was neither the man's garb nor his features, but an object that he held in the curve of his right arm."
"And that was—?"
"Nothing more nor less than a human skull, of a size that seemed to indicate a man of even larger stature than the one before us. All these details flashed upon my mind like an image on the sensitive plate of a camera, but before I could have counted twenty with deliberation, he placed the skull upon the ground, and then, straightening himself up, pointed with one outstretched hand over my head, as though indicating something in the distance. Naturally, we both turned in the direction of that gesture, but seeing nothing unusual in the landscape, faced about again towards the figure. Then we looked at each other in blank astonishment. The man had vanished as completely as a soap bubble bursting in air!"
"Hidden?" said Leighton, laconically.
"Impossible; our camp stood in a perfectly open glade, at least two hundred yards from the nearest tree, so he could not possibly have reached a hiding place in the ten seconds our heads had been turned.
"As we stood there dumfounded , our eyes scrutinizing each other, the plain, the sky overhead, and finally the ground, Mitchell gave a cry of astonishment.
"'Why, there's the skull!' he exclaimed. 'The man was real after all.'
"Sure enough, there was the skull, lying on the ground scarcely two yards from where we stood. For a moment neither of us stirred. Then with a common impulse we rushed forward and together raised the grewsome souvenir from the ground. At first it seemed much like any human skull except that it was unusually large, and polished so that its top glistened like a billiard ball. As we turned it around, however, a cry of astonishment broke from both. The eye sockets were not empty, but contained a pair of the oddest sort of eyes. They were perfect in shape and ​expression, and though carved from what seemed to be deep blue glass, looked almost too lifelike for pleasureable contemplation. But what added to the uncanny effect of the lidless blue orbs was the fact that they moved, being evidently set on some sort of bearing. So weirdly fascinating was the strange object that the sun was high before we could compose ourselves sufficiently to sit down to our morning meal; and even then our conversation was entirely of the skull and of the strange visitor who had come and gone so mysteriously. In comparing notes we found that our remembrance of that visitor's dress and appearance agreed to the minutest details. Consequently if there had been any delusion it was one in which both had shared. But if the experience had been a delusion, how account for the skull? From time to time we glanced toward the spot where we had placed the uncanny object, half expecting that, too, would vanish. But no. It remained just where we had left it, its top glistening in the sun, its lidless blue eyes gleaming with an almost human expression. As I looked, for perhaps the twentieth time, at the grewsome thing I observed that the eyes were turned toward the left, and seemed gazing fixedly at the hillside above our camp. Seized by a strange idea I arose and turned the skull in the direction of the hill towards which the eyes looked. They stared straight ahead. Then I turned it in the other direction, and , to my astonishment, they looked towards the right. To make sure, I slowly turned it from one side to the other, and all the while the eyes kept their gaze riveted on the same spot. I had called Mitchell to observe the experiment, and he laughingly suggested that the skull was looking for the man who brought it there and then deserted it. But I was more serious. I had an idea concerning this strange phenomenon and was resolved to test the matter to the end . Holding the skull in one hand, I walked forward, every now and then turning the skull, whose eyes always turned in the same direction, as the needle of a compass points toward the north. I had in this man ner gradually approached the hill, when it seemed as if the eyes had actually taken on a more intense gaze, and that that gaze was directed to a particular portion of the rocks which seemed to form a small recess. I moved forward more rapidly, the eyes continuing to stare at this place until I had reached the recess itself. The ​next moment I found myself within a natural enclosure, surrounded on three sides by precipitous rock, so steep as to be almost barren of vegetation, save here and there a clinging vine. Again I looked at the skull. Beyond a doubt its deep blue eyes were directed towards a particular portion of the rocky wall marked by a small depression, shaped like a diamond. Setting the grewsome thing upon a flat rock, I purposely turned the side of the jaw toward the point where the eye had been directed, and breathlessly awaited the result. Slowly, steadily, those lidless eyes turned until they rested again on the diamond-shaped depression."
"And Mitchell?" said his hearer, "did this convince him?"
"Not at first, for he remained near our fire, watching my movements still with an incredulous smile. The smile faded, however, when a moment later I called him to my side and saying, 'Watch the eyes and tell me what you think,' began turning the skull slowly around on the flat rock. The eyes held their focus on the diamond-shaped incision, and I stood up and confronted my friend.
"'Well,' said he, and this time his accent indicated great agitation, 'I believe you are right, and there's some mystery here; let's get to the bottom of it. I'll go to the camp for an axe.' Ten minutes later he returned with the only available tool we possessed, and I began hacking feverishly at the rocky wall, keeping the mark upon which the eyes were riveted as our guide. Before long we had a big slice of the rocky soil cut away, and Mitchell had just taken his turn at the work, when his axe suddenly buried itself in what seemed to be a soft shell of rock, the momentum throwing him flat on his face. The next moment a section of the earth, quite six feet each way, gave way, revealing to our astonished eyes a deep excavation. In the bright light of the morning sun which shone full upon it, lighting up its interior to the rear wall, it seemed about fifty feet inward."
"A sort of cave?" said Leighton.
"Yes, but one made by human hands, as we discovered as soon as we crossed the threshold. The walls were cut and carved in many curious devices, while around the three sides ran a shelf cut in the rock, on which reposed many bones piled in regular heaps. ​A glance revealed the fact that they were human bones,—were in some prehistoric sarcophagus. Presently, as our eyes became accustomed to the subdued light, we began to look about us more closely. I was examining a pile of bones at the end farthest from the opening, comparing them with the skull in our possession, when, finding them apparently of the usual size, I tossed a thigh bone carelessly back on the shelf. It struck the pile with more force than I had intended, and they all came tumbling to the floor; but as they fell they revealed what appeared then, and subsequently proved to be, a crystal casket. It was about eighteen inches long by six high, and a foot wide; and, as I took hold of it, it moved with my hand. Carrying it to the opening I set it down in the light. Then, for the first time, I saw that it was filled with a blue substance, whose nature I could not clearly make out, owing to the dust and dirt covering the case. Upon examining the lid I found that it was not hinged but simply set on over the top. A quick jerk brought it away, and there before our staring eyes lay a huge heap of blue stones, all cut, and polished to a dazzling brilliancy.
"'Sapphires!' cried Mitchell, and his eyes bulged from his head.
"'Are you certain?' I asked, almost breathless from amazement.
"'Absolutely,' he said. 'Look at them,' and he took a handful of the beautiful stones. 'You never saw glass like that.'
"I thought as he did, but, being no judge of such things, was not too ready to let my hopes soar, only to be dashed to earth again. There must have been at least two pecks of them, ranging in size from a small pea to stones as big as the end of my thumb,—and all perfectly cut. Suddenly, as we stood gazing incredulously at the gleaming stones, my thoughts flew to the skull, and I ran to fetch it. As I brought it into the light I saw that its gaze was now riveted on the casket, the lidless blue orbs seeming actually to gloat over the piles of blue stones. A new thought flashed through my mind. Could it be—? Yes—undoubtedly—the eyes that we had thought only bits of blue glass were themselves sapphires, but larger and finer than any in the casket.
​"Well, Mitchell and I were practical, first of all. As soon as we had recovered from our amazement we made a thorough search of the cave. Finding nothing more, however, we took ourselves and our precious burdens to the camp, and that very night we started for San Francisco."
"And the stones proved really sapphires?" said Leighton.
"Sapphires! I should say so. The leading jewelers to whom we showed a few specimens upon our arrival in San Francisco, two days later, pronounced them gems of the first water, and gladly paid us twenty thousand dollars for sixty of the smaller stones. Upon parting company we divided the sapphires equally between us, and since then I have visited every capital of Europe, in each of which the stones have been pronounced flawless."
"And that's how you struck it rich?"
"Yes, but so far I have converted less than half of them into money. The remainder I have placed in the casket in a New York safe deposit vault, but the skull—"
As he spoke he gestured toward an ebony cabinet just above his head. There, behind a glass door, stood a huge skull, whose lidless blue eyes, looking out toward the distant city, seemed to pierce every obstacle between itself and the casket of sapphires over which it still kept watch and ward.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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