A Riddle in Bronze

bookcase, and two more above the fireplace, sitting on the mantelpiece as though they'd sprung from nowhere. When I looked towards the bay windows, which afforded a view of the front gardens between the matted, thorny stems, I saw another three cubes stacked in a pyramid arrangement.
Had they been there before, or had I been so concerned at the course of my interview that my gaze had passed over them, unseeing?
My eyes turned to the first cube, the one nearest me. I wanted to hold it, to examine it, but to do so I'd have to stand up, walk to the table and pick the thing up. This was someone else's house, my prospective employer's no less, and such a liberty was unthinkable. I could no more touch another's belongings without permission than pick the housekeeper's pocket.
Even so, I felt an overwhelming compunction, and before I knew what was happening I was on my feet, reaching for the gleaming object. I heard a murmur behind me, either disapproval or condemnation, but I ignored it.
The shiny metal cube was warm to the touch, and it filled my hand as I took my seat once more. Turning it over, I noticed the pattern was different on every side. There was an obvious sequence to the spacing of the lines and indents, one which I instinctively recognised, but which stubbornly refused to reveal itself. Figures floated across my mind, accompanied by diagrams from books, and snatches of voices from my years of schooling.
"Mr Jules Hartlow," said the housekeeper, who'd appeared as before without warning.
Quickly, I hid the cube behind my back, and I stared out of the bay windows with a look of intense concentration which couldn't have been any more pronounced had the tangled, matted rose bushes started speaking to me in tongues.
I heard the next applicant crossing to the doorway, and when I judged it was safe I risked a glance, to see whether the housekeeper had noticed the cube. She was just turning away, albeit looking directly at me, and I saw a flicker of … something … in her gaze. Was it disapproval? Was it suspicion? Or was it… relief?
"Oh, this could take hours." I heard the creak of a chair, and looked round to see another applicant picking up the cube nearest to herself. She studied it casually, dismissively, then put it back again. "I've a mind to find myself some lunch before I wilt."
"Please do," said another. "We'll be sure to fetch you if your name is called."
I ignored the banter. The housekeeper having departed, I was examining the cube once more. The small indentations I dismissed, since they formed no discernible pattern, but the lines were intriguing. There was a set of three, then a gap, then one more, and then — here I paused to count — another four, so tightly packed it was hard to distinguish one from another. "Pi!" I exclaimed.
"Pie or sandwiches, I would gladly take either," said the woman seated nearby. "And with any luck, a pot of tea to accompany them."
I paid her no mind, because I'd found an indentation in the surface of the cube which had a certain amount of give, as though it were a button or a catch. With a nervous, shaking finger, I pressed it in until it stopped, at which point there was a faint click from within. The button was still recessed within the device, leaving a hole in the surface, and with a feeling of alarm I realised it was going to stay there.
I stared at the cube in horror, fearing I'd broken the device. Then I glanced at the nearby table, wondering whether I ought to replace the cube quickly, with the newly-created hole face down against the wooden surface. Unfortunately, such an action would be observed by the other applicants, and if questions arose as to the vandal responsible for the mishandling of the artifact, I had no doubt they would point their accusing fingers at me.
Quickly, I turned the cube in my hands, and that's when I noticed a slight protrusion on the opposite face to the button. It was standing proud by an eighth of an inch, no more, and I had missed it in my state of alarm. I pressed it gently, fearing I might damage this side of the cube also, making my crime all but impossible to conceal, but to my relief the surface smoothed with a clack, and when I turned the cube over I saw the button had emerged from its hole once more.
The cube now in its original configuration, with neither holes nor protrusions, a wise soul would have replaced it on the table and sat back to await the housekeeper's calling of their name.
Well, I may be proficient with numbers, but nobody ever accused me of being wise.
Click, clack!Click, clack!
"Oh, do stop playing with that thing," called one of the other applicants. "If the housekeeper spies you toying with the professor's belongings, we'll all be out on our ears."
I was engrossed in the cube, and his words were as rain to the ocean. For, after three cycles with the button and the protrusion, I'd found a corner which differed from the rest. With the deep engraved line traced across three faces, the corner resembled a pyramid, and I discovered it could be rotated upon its axis. One face of the pyramid had a tiny round marker, and I saw engravings on the larger faces of the cube to match, in a sequence of I, II and III. The marker was currently pointing to III, and so I turned it until it matched the I.
Ting!
I almost dropped the cube as the clear note rang out, and, looking around the sitting room, I saw the others eyeing me with a mix of exasperation and annoyance.
"To take such liberties," muttered the young woman who'd yearned for lunch. "Can you credit such behaviour?"
"Leave him be," said another. "He's only fashioning a noose for his own