A MASTER OF MYSTERIES ----------------------------------------------------------------------- [Illustration: "He pulled the mare nearly up on her haunches. "(Page 114). A Master of Mysteries. --Frontispiece] ----------------------------------------------------------------------- A MASTER OF MYSTERIES ByL. T. MEADEand ROBERT EUSTACE Illustrated ByJ. AMBROSE WALTON LondonWard, Lock & Co LimitedWarwick House Salisbury Square E CNew York And Melbourne ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Contents PAGE I THE MYSTERY OF THE CIRCULAR CHAMBER 9 II THE WARDER OF THE DOOR 57 III THE MYSTERY OF THE FELWYN TUNNEL 95 IV THE EIGHT-MILE LOCK 139 V HOW SIVA SPOKE 183 VI TO PROVE AN ALIBI 227 ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Introduction It so happened that the circumstances of fate allowed me to follow myown bent in the choice of a profession. From my earliest youth theweird, the mysterious had an irresistible fascination for me. Havingprivate means, I resolved to follow my unique inclinations, and I am nowwell known to all my friends as a professional exposer of ghosts, andone who can clear away the mysteries of most haunted houses. Up to thepresent I have never had cause to regret my choice, but at the same timeI cannot too strongly advise any one who thinks of following my exampleto hesitate before engaging himself in tasks that entail time, expense, thankless labour, often ridicule, and not seldom great personal danger. To explain, by the application of science, phenomena attributed tospiritual agencies has been the work of my life. I have, naturally, gonethrough strange difficulties in accomplishing my mission. I propose inthese pages to relate the histories of certain queer events, envelopedat first in mystery, and apparently dark with portent, but, nevertheless, when grappled with in the true spirit of science, capableof explanation. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- I THE MYSTERY OF THE CIRCULAR CHAMBER One day in late September I received the following letter from mylawyer:-- "My Dear Bell, -- "I shall esteem it a favour if you can make it convenient to call upon me at ten o'clock to-morrow morning on a matter of extreme privacy. " At the appointed hour I was shown into Mr. Edgcombe's private room. Ihad known him for years--we were, in fact, old friends--and I wasstartled now by the look of worry, not to say anxiety, on his usuallyserene features. "You are the very man I want, Bell, " he cried. "Sit down; I have a greatdeal to say to you. There is a mystery of a very grave nature which Ihope you may solve for me. It is in connection with a house said to behaunted. " He fixed his bright eyes on my face as he spoke. I sat perfectly silent, waiting for him to continue. "In the first place, " he resumed, "I must ask you to regard the matteras confidential. " "Certainly, " I answered. "You know, " he went on, "that I have often laughed at your specialhobby, but it occurred to me yesterday that the experiences you havelived through may enable you to give me valuable assistance in thisdifficulty. " "I will do my best for you, Edgcombe, " I replied. He lay back in his chair, folding his hands. "The case is briefly as follows, " he began. "It is connected with thefamily of the Wentworths. The only son, Archibald, the artist, has justdied under most extraordinary circumstances. He was, as you probablyknow, one of the most promising water-colour painters of the youngerschool, and his pictures in this year's Academy met with universalpraise. He was the heir to the Wentworth estates, and his death hascaused a complication of claims from a member of a collateral branch ofthe family, who, when the present squire dies, is entitled to the money. This man has spent the greater part of his life in Australia, is badlyoff, and evidently belongs to a rowdy set. He has been to see me two orthree times, and I must say frankly that I am not taken with hisappearance. " "Had he anything to do with the death?" I interrupted. "Nothing whatever, as you will quickly perceive. Wentworth has beenaccustomed from time to time to go alone on sketching tours to differentparts of the country. He has tramped about on foot, and visited odd, out-of-the-way nooks searching for subjects. He never took much moneywith him, and always travelled as an apparently poor man. A month ago hestarted off alone on one of these tours. He had a handsome commissionfrom Barlow & Co. , picture-dealers in the Strand. He was to paintcertain parts of the river Merran; and although he certainly did notneed money, he seemed glad of an object for a good ramble. He partedwith his family in the best of health and spirits, and wrote to themfrom time to time; but a week ago they heard the news that he had diedsuddenly at an inn on the Merran. There was, of course, an inquest andan autopsy. Dr. Miles Gordon, the Wentworths' consulting physician, wastelegraphed for, and was present at the post-mortem examination. He isabsolutely puzzled to account for the death. The medical examinationshowed Wentworth to be in apparently perfect health at the time. Therewas no lesion to be discovered upon which to base a different opinion, all the organs being healthy. Neither was there any trace of poison, normarks of violence. The coroner's verdict was that Wentworth died ofsyncope, which, as you know perhaps, is a synonym for an unknown cause. The inn where he died is a very lonely one, and has the reputation ofbeing haunted. The landlord seems to bear a bad character, althoughnothing has ever been proved against him. But a young girl who lives atthe inn gave evidence which at first startled every one. She said at theinquest that she had earnestly warned Wentworth not to sleep in thehaunted room. She had scarcely told the coroner so before she fell tothe floor in an epileptic fit. When she came to herself she was sullenand silent, and nothing more could be extracted from her. The old man, the innkeeper, explained that the girl was half-witted, but he did notattempt to deny that the house had the reputation of being haunted, andsaid that he had himself begged Wentworth not to put up there. Well, that is about the whole of the story. The coroner's inquest seems todeny the evidence of foul play, but I have my very strong suspicions. What I want you to do is to ascertain if they are correct. Will youundertake the case?" "I will certainly do so, " I replied. "Please let me have any furtherparticulars, and a written document to show, in case of need, that I amacting under your directions. " Edgcombe agreed to this, and I soon afterwards took my leave. The casehad the features of an interesting problem, and I hoped that I shouldprove successful in solving it. That evening I made my plans carefully. I would go into ----shire earlyon the following morning, assuming for my purpose the character of anamateur photographer. Having got all necessary particulars fromEdgcombe, I made a careful mental map of my operations. First of all Iwould visit a little village of the name of Harkhurst, and put up at theinn, the Crown and Thistle. Here Wentworth had spent a fortnight when hefirst started on his commission to make drawings of the river Merran. Ithought it likely that I should obtain some information there. Circumstances must guide me as to my further steps, but my intention wasto proceed from Harkhurst to the Castle Inn, which was situated aboutsix miles further up the river. This was the inn where the tragedy hadoccurred. Towards evening on the following day I arrived at Harkhurst. When mycarriage drew up at the Crown and Thistle, the landlady was standing inthe doorway. She was a buxom-looking dame, with a kindly face. I askedfor a bed. "Certainly, sir, " she answered. She turned with me into the little inn, and taking me upstairs, showed me a small room, quite clean andcomfortable, looking out on the yard. I said it would do capitally, andshe hurried downstairs to prepare my supper. After this meal, whichproved to be excellent, I determined to visit the landlord in the bar. Ifound him chatty and communicative. "This is a lonely place, " he said; "we don't often have a soul stayingwith us for a month at a time. " As he spoke he walked to the door, and Ifollowed him. The shades of night were beginning to fall, but thepicturesqueness of the little hamlet could not but commend itself to me. "And yet it is a lovely spot, " I said. "I should have thought touristswould have thronged to it. It is at least an ideal place forphotographers. " "You are right there, sir, " replied the man; "and although we don'toften have company to stay in the inn, now and then we have a strayartist. It's not three weeks back, " he continued, "that we had agentleman like you, sir, only a bit younger, to stay with us for a weekor two. He was an artist, and drew from morning till night--ah, poorfellow!" "Why do you say that?" I asked. "I have good cause, sir. Here, wife, " continued the landlord, lookingover his shoulder at Mrs. Johnson, the landlady, who now appeared on thescene, "this gentleman has been asking me questions about our visitor, Mr. Wentworth, but perhaps we ought not to inflict such a dismal storyupon him to-night. " "Pray do, " I said; "what you have already hinted at arouses mycuriosity. Why should you pity Mr. Wentworth?" "He is dead, sir, " said the landlady, in a solemn voice. I gave apretended start, and she continued, -- "And it was all his own fault. Ah, dear! it makes me almost cry to thinkof it. He was as nice a gentleman as I ever set eyes on, and so strong, hearty, and pleasant. Well, sir, everything went well until one day hesaid to me, 'I am about to leave you, Mrs. Johnson. I am going to alittle place called the Castle Inn, further up the Merran. ' "'The Castle Inn!' I cried. 'No, Mr. Wentworth, that you won't, not ifyou value your life. ' "'And why not?' he said, looking at me with as merry blue eyes as youever saw in anybody's head. 'Why should I not visit the Castle Inn? Ihave a commission to make some drawings of that special bend of theriver. ' "'Well, then, sir, ' I answered, 'if that is the case, you'll just have ahorse and trap from here and drive over as often as you want to. For theCastle Inn ain't a fit place for a Christian to put up at. ' "'What do you mean?' he asked of me. "'It is said to be haunted, sir, and what does happen in that house theLord only knows, but there's not been a visitor at the inn for someyears, not since Bailiff Holt came by his death. ' "'Came by his death?' he asked. 'And how was that?' "'God knows, but I don't, ' I answered. 'At the coroner's inquest it wassaid that he died from syncope, whatever that means, but the folks roundhere said it was fright. ' Mr. Wentworth just laughed at me. He didn'tmind a word I said, and the next day, sir, he was off, carrying hisbelongings with him. " "Well, and what happened?" I asked, seeing that she paused. "What happened, sir? Just what I expected. Two days afterwards came thenews of his death. Poor young gentleman! He died in the very room whereHolt had breathed his last; and, oh, if there wasn't a fuss and to-do, for it turned out that, although he seemed quite poor to us, with littleor no money, he was no end of a swell, and had rich relations, and bigestates coming to him; and, of course, there was a coroner's inquest andall the rest, and great doctors came down from London, and our Dr. Stanmore, who lives down the street, was sent for, and though they didall they could, and examined him, as it were, with a microscope, theycould find no cause for death, and so they give it out that it wassyncope, just as they did in the case of poor Holt. But, sir, it wasn't;it was fright, sheer fright. The place is haunted. It's a mysterious, dreadful house, and I only hope you won't have nothing to do with it. " She added a few more words and presently left us. "That's a strange story, " I said, turning to Johnson; "your wife hasexcited my curiosity. I should much like to get further particulars. " "There don't seem to be anything more to tell, sir, " replied Johnson. "It's true what the wife says, that the Castle Inn has a bad name. It'snot the first, no, nor the second, death that has occurred there. " "You mentioned your village doctor; do you think he could enlighten meon the subject?" "I am sure he would do his best, sir. He lives only six doors away, in ared house. Maybe you wouldn't mind stepping down the street and speakingto him?" "You are sure he would not think it a liberty?" "Not he, sir; he'll be only too pleased to exchange a word with some oneoutside this sleepy little place. " "Then I'll call on him, " I answered, and taking up my hat I strolleddown the street. I was lucky in finding Dr. Stanmore at home, and themoment I saw his face I determined to take him into my confidence. "The fact is this, " I said, when he had shaken hands with me, "I shouldnot dream of taking this liberty did I not feel certain that you couldhelp me. " "And in what way?" he asked, not stiffly, but with a keen, inquiring, interested glance. "I have been sent down from London to inquire into the Wentworthmystery, " I said. "Is that so?" he said, with a start. Then he continued gravely: "I fearyou have come on a wild-goose chase. There was nothing discovered at theautopsy to account for the death. There were no marks on the body, andall the organs were healthy. I met Wentworth often while he was stayinghere, and he was as hearty and strong-looking a young man as I have evercome across. " "But the Castle Inn has a bad reputation, " I said. "That is true; the people here are afraid of it. It is said to behaunted. But really, sir, you and I need not trouble ourselves aboutstupid reports of that sort. Old Bindloss, the landlord, has lived therefor years, and there has never been anything proved against him. " "Is he alone?" "No; his wife and a grandchild live there also. " "A grandchild?" I said. "Did not this girl give some startling evidenceat the inquest?" "Nothing of any consequence, " replied Dr. Stanmore; "she only repeatedwhat Bindloss had already said himself--that the house was haunted, andthat she had asked Wentworth not to sleep in the room. " "Has anything ever been done to explain the reason why this room is saidto be haunted?" I continued. "Not that I know of. Rats are probably at the bottom of it. " "But have not there been other deaths in the house?" "That is true. " "How many?" "Well, I have myself attended no less than three similar inquests. " "And what was the verdict of the jury?" "In each case the verdict was death from syncope. " "Which means, cause unknown, " I said, jumping impatiently to my feet. "Iwonder, Dr. Stanmore, that you are satisfied to leave the matter in sucha state. " "And, pray, what can I do?" he inquired. "I am asked to examine a body. I find all the organs in perfect health; I cannot trace the leastappearance of violence, nor can I detect poison. What other evidence canI honestly give?" "I can only say that I should not be satisfied, " I replied. "I now wishto add that I have come down from London determined to solve thismystery. I shall myself put up at the Castle Inn. " "Well?" said Dr. Stanmore. "And sleep in the haunted room. " "Of course you don't believe in the ghost. " "No; but I believe in foul play. Now, Dr. Stanmore, will you help me?" "Most certainly, if I can. What do you wish me to do?" "This--I shall go to the Castle Inn to-morrow. If at the end of threedays I do not return here, will you go in search of me, and at the sametime post this letter to Mr. Edgcombe, my London lawyer?" "If you do not appear in three days I'll kick up no end of a row, " saidDr. Stanmore, "and, of course, post your letter. " Soon afterwards I shook hands with the doctor and left him. After an early dinner on the following day, I parted with mygood-natured landlord and his wife, and with my knapsack and kodakstrapped over my shoulders, started on my way. I took care to tell noone that I was going to the Castle Inn, and for this purpose doubledback through a wood, and so found the right road. The sun was nearlysetting when at last I approached a broken-down signpost, on which, inhalf-obliterated characters, I could read the words, "To the CastleInn. " I found myself now at the entrance of a small lane, which wasevidently little frequented, as it was considerably grass-grown. Fromwhere I stood I could catch no sight of any habitation, but just at thatmoment a low, somewhat inconsequent laugh fell upon my ears. I turnedquickly and saw a pretty girl, with bright eyes and a childish face, gazing at me with interest. I had little doubt that she was oldBindloss's grand-daughter. "Will you kindly tell me, " I asked, "if this is the way to the CastleInn?" My remark evidently startled her. She made a bound forward, seized me bymy hand, and tried to push me away from the entrance to the lane intothe high road. "Go away!" she cried; "we have no beds fit for gentlemen at the CastleInn. Go! go!" she continued, and she pointed up the winding road. Hereyes were now blazing in her head, but I noticed that her lipstrembled, and that very little would cause her to burst into tears. "But I am tired and footsore, " I answered. "I should like to put up atthe inn for the night. " "Don't!" she repeated; "they'll put you into a room with a ghost. Don'tgo; 'tain't a place for gentlemen. " Here she burst not into tears, butinto a fit of high, shrill, almost idiotic laughter. She suddenlyclapped one of her hands to her forehead, and, turning, flew almost asfast as the wind down the narrow lane and out of sight. I followed her quickly. I did not believe that the girl was quite as madas she seemed, but I had little doubt that she had somethingextraordinary weighing on her mind. At the next turn I came in view of the inn. It was a queer-looking oldplace, and I stopped for a moment to look at it. The house was entirely built of stone. There were two storeys to thecentre part, which was square, and at the four corners stood four roundtowers. The house was built right on the river, just below a largemill-pond. I walked up to the door and pounded on it with my stick. Itwas shut, and looked as inhospitable as the rest of the place. After amoment's delay it was opened two or three inches, and the surly face ofan old woman peeped out. "And what may you be wanting?" she asked. "A bed for the night, " I replied; "can you accommodate me?" She glanced suspiciously first at me and then at my camera. "You are an artist, I make no doubt, " she said, "and we don't want nomore of them here. " She was about to slam the door in my face, but I pushed my foot betweenit and the lintel. "I am easily pleased, " I said; "can you not give me some sort of bed forthe night?" "You had best have nothing to do with us, " she answered. "You go off toHarkhurst; they can put you up at the Crown and Thistle. " "I have just come from there, " I answered. "As a matter of fact, I couldnot walk another mile. " "We don't want visitors at the Castle Inn, " she continued. Here shepeered forward and looked into my face. "You had best be off, " sherepeated; "they say the place is haunted. " I uttered a laugh. "You don't expect me to believe that?" I said. She glanced at me fromhead to foot. Her face was ominously grave. "You had best know all, sir, " she said, after a pause. "Somethinghappens in this house, and no living soul knows what it is, for they whohave seen it have never yet survived to tell the tale. It's not morethan a week back that a young gentleman came here. He was like you, boldas brass, and he too wanted a bed, and would take no denial. I told himplain, and so did my man, that the place was haunted. He didn't mind nomore than you mind. Well, he slept in the only room we have got forguests, and he--he _died there_. " "What did he die of?" I asked. "Fright, " was the answer, brief and laconic. "Now do you want to come ornot?" "Yes; I don't believe in ghosts. I want the bed, and I am determined tohave it. " The woman flung the door wide open. "Don't say as I ain't warned you, " she cried. "Come in, if you must. "She led me into the kitchen, where a fire burned sullenly on the hearth. "Sit you down, and I'll send for Bindloss, " she said. "I can onlypromise to give you a bed if Bindloss agrees. Liz, come along here thisminute. " A quick young step was heard in the passage, and the pretty girl whom Ihad seen at the top of the lane entered. Her eyes sought my face, herlips moved as if to say something, but no sound issued from them. "Go and find your grandad, " said the old woman. "Tell him there is agentleman here that wants a bed. Ask him what's to be done. " The girl favoured me with a long and peculiar glance, then turning onher heel she left the room. As soon as she did so the old woman peeredforward and looked curiously at me. "I'm sorry you are staying, " she said; "don't forget as I warned you. Remember, this ain't a proper inn at all. Once it was a mill, but thatwas afore Bindloss's day and mine. Gents would come in the summer andput up for the fishing, but then the story of the ghost got abroad, andlately we have no visitors to speak of, only an odd one now and then whoain't wanted--no, he ain't wanted. You see, there was three deaths here. Yes"--she held up one of her skinny hands and began to count on herfingers--"yes, three up to the present; three, that's it. Ah, here comesBindloss. " A shuffling step was heard in the passage, and an old man, bent withage, and wearing a long white beard, entered the room. "We has no beds for strangers, " he said, speaking in an aggressive andloud tone. "Hasn't the wife said so? We don't let out beds here. " "As that is the case, you have no right to have that signpost at the endof the lane, " I retorted. "I am not in a mood to walk eight miles for ashelter in a country I know nothing about. Cannot you put me upsomehow?" "I have told the gentleman everything, Sam, " said the wife. "He is justfor all the world like young Mr. Wentworth, and not a bit frightened. " The old landlord came up and faced me. "Look you here, " he said, "you stay on at your peril. I don't want you, nor do the wife. Now is it 'yes' or 'no'?" "It is 'yes, '" I said. "There's only one room you can sleep in. " "One room is sufficient. " "It's the one Mr. Wentworth died in. Hadn't you best take up your trapsand be off?" "No, I shall stay. " "Then there's no more to be said. " "Run, Liz, " said the woman, "and light the fire in the parlour. " The girl left the room, and the woman, taking up a candle, said shewould take me to the chamber where I was to sleep. She led me down along and narrow passage, and then, opening a door, down two steps intothe most extraordinary-looking room I had ever seen. The walls werecompletely circular, covered with a paper of a staring grotesquepattern. A small iron bedstead projected into the middle of the floor, which was uncarpeted except for a slip of matting beside it. A cheapdeal wash-hand-stand, a couple of chairs, and a small table with ablurred looking-glass stood against the wall beneath a deep embrasure, in which there was a window. This was evidently a room in one of thecircular towers. I had never seen less inviting quarters. "Your supper will be ready directly, sir, " said the woman, and placingthe candle on the little table, she left me. The place felt damp and draughty, and the flame of the candle flickeredabout, causing the tallow to gutter to one side. There was no fireplacein the room, and above, the walls converged to a point, giving the wholeplace the appearance of an enormous extinguisher. I made a hurried andnecessarily limited toilet, and went into the parlour. I was standing bythe fire, which was burning badly, when the door opened, and the girlLiz came in, bearing a tray in her hand. She laid the tray on the tableand came up softly to me. "Fools come to this house, " she said, "and you are one. " "Pray let me have my supper, and don't talk, " I replied. "I am tired andhungry, and want to go to bed. " Liz stood perfectly still for a moment. "'Tain't worth it, " she said; then, in a meditative voice, "no, 'tain'tworth it. But I'll say no more. Folks will never be warned!" Her grandmother's voice calling her caused her to bound from the room. My supper proved better than I had expected, and, having finished it, Istrolled into the kitchen, anxious to have a further talk with the oldman. He was seated alone by the fire, a great mastiff lying at his feet. "Can you tell me why the house is supposed to be haunted?" I askedsuddenly, stooping down to speak to him. "How should I know?" he cried hoarsely. "The wife and me have been heretwenty years, and never seen nor heard anything, but for certain folks_do_ die in the house. It's mortal unpleasant for me, for the doctorscome along, and the coroner, and there's an inquest and no end of fuss. The folks die, although no one has ever laid a finger on 'em; thedoctors can't prove why they are dead, but dead they be. Well, thereain't no use saying more. You are here, and maybe you'll pass the onenight all right. " "I shall go to bed at once, " I said, "but I should like some candles. Can you supply me?" The man turned and looked at his wife, who at that moment entered thekitchen. She went to the dresser, opened a wooden box, and taking outthree or four tallow candles, put them into my hand. I rose, simulating a yawn. "Good-night, sir, " said the old man; "good-night; I wish you well. " A moment later I had entered my bedroom, and having shut the door, proceeded to give it a careful examination. As far as I could make out, there was no entrance to the room except by the door, which was shapedto fit the circular walls. I noticed, however, that there was anunaccountable draught, and this I at last discovered came from below theoak wainscoting of the wall. I could not in any way account for thedraught, but it existed to an unpleasant extent. The bed, I further saw, was somewhat peculiar; it had no castors on the four legs, which werelet down about half an inch into sockets provided for them in the woodenfloor. This discovery excited my suspicions still further. It wasevident that the bed was intended to remain in a particular position. Isaw that it directly faced the little window sunk deep into the thickwall, so that any one in bed would look directly at the window. Iexamined my watch, found that it was past eleven, and placing both thecandles on a tiny table near the bed, I lay down without undressing. Iwas on the alert to catch the slightest noise, but the hours dragged onand nothing occurred. In the house all was silence, and outside thesplashing and churning of the water falling over the wheel camedistinctly to my ears. I lay awake all night, but as morning dawned fell into an uneasy sleep. I awoke to see the broad daylight streaming in at the small window. Making a hasty toilet, I went out for a walk, and presently came in tobreakfast. It had been laid for me in the big kitchen, and the old manwas seated by the hearth. "Well, " said the woman, "I hope you slept comfortable, sir. " I answered in the affirmative, and now perceived that old Bindloss andhis wife were in the humour to be agreeable. They said that if I wassatisfied with the room I might spend another night at the inn. I toldthem that I had a great many photographs to take, and would be muchobliged for the permission. As I spoke I looked round for the girl, Liz. She was nowhere to be seen. "Where is your grand-daughter?" I asked of the old woman. "She has gone away for the day, " was the reply. "It's too much for Lizto see strangers. She gets excited, and then the fits come on. " "What sort of fits?" "I can't tell what they are called, but they're bad, and weaken her, poor thing! Liz ought never to be excited. " Here Bindloss gave his wifea warning glance; she lowered her eyes, and going across to the range, began to stir the contents of something in a saucepan. That afternoon I borrowed some lines from Bindloss, and, taking an oldboat which was moored to the bank of the mill-pond, set off under thepretence of fishing for pike. The weather was perfect for the time ofyear. Waiting my opportunity, I brought the boat up to land on the bank thatdammed up the stream, and getting out walked along it in the directionof the mill-wheel, over which the water was now rushing. As I observed it from this side of the bank, I saw that the tower inwhich my room was placed must at one time have been part of the millitself, and I further noticed that the masonry was comparatively new, showing that alterations must have taken place when the house wasabandoned as a mill and was turned into an inn. I clambered down theside of the wheel, holding on to the beams, which were green andslippery, and peered through the paddles. As I was making my examination, a voice suddenly startled me. "What are you doing down there?" I looked up; old Bindloss was standing on the bank looking down at me. He was alone, and his face was contorted with a queer mixture of fearand passion. I hastily hoisted myself up, and stood beside him. "What are you poking about down there for?" he said, pushing his uglyold face into mine as he spoke. "You fool! if you had fallen you wouldhave been drowned. No one could swim a stroke in that mill-race. Andthen there would have been another death, and all the old fuss overagain! Look here, sir, will you have the goodness to get out of theplace? I don't want you here any more. " "I intend to leave to-morrow morning, " I answered in a pacifying voice, "and I am really very much obliged to you for warning me about themill. " "You had best not go near it again, " he said in a menacing voice, andthen he turned hastily away. I watched him as he climbed up a steep bankand disappeared from view. He was going in the opposite direction fromthe house. Seizing the opportunity of his absence, I once moreapproached the mill. Was it possible that Wentworth had been hurled intoit? But had this been the case there would have been signs and marks onthe body. Having reached the wheel, I clambered boldly down. It was nowgetting dusk, but I could see that a prolongation of the axle enteredthe wall of the tower. The fittings were also in wonderfully good order, and the bolt that held the great wheel only required to be drawn out toset it in motion. That evening during supper I thought very hard. I perceived thatBindloss was angry, also that he was suspicious and alarmed. I sawplainly that the only way to really discover what had been done toWentworth was to cause the old ruffian to try similar means to get ridof me. This was a dangerous expedient, but I felt desperate, and mycuriosity as well as interest were keenly aroused. Having finished mysupper, I went into the passage preparatory to going into the kitchen. Ihad on felt slippers, and my footfall made no noise. As I approachedthe door I heard Bindloss saying to his wife, -- "He's been poking about the mill-wheel; I wish he would make himselfscarce. " "Oh, he can't find out anything, " was the reply. "You keep quiet, Bindloss; he'll be off in the morning. " "That's as maybe, " was the answer, and then there came a harsh and verydisagreeable laugh. I waited for a moment, and then entered the kitchen. Bindloss was alone now; he was bending over the fire, smoking. "I shall leave early in the morning, " I said, "so please have my billready for me. " I then seated myself near him, drawing up my chair closeto the blaze. He looked as if he resented this, but said nothing. "I am very curious about the deaths which occur in this house, " I said, after a pause. "How many did you say there were?" "That is nothing to you, " he answered. "We never wanted you here; youcan go when you please. " "I shall go to-morrow morning, but I wish to say something now. " "And what may that be?" "I don't believe in that story about the place being haunted. " "Oh, you don't, don't you?" He dropped his pipe, and his glittering eyesgazed at me with a mixture of anger and ill-concealed alarm. "No, " I paused, then I said slowly and emphatically, "I went back to themill even after your warning, and----" "What?" he cried, starting to his feet. "Nothing, " I answered; "only I don't believe in the ghost. " His face turned not only white but livid. I left him without anotherword. I saw that his suspicions had been much strengthened by my words. This I intended. To induce the ruffian to do his worst was the only wayto wring his secret from him. My hideous room looked exactly as it had done on the previous evening. The grotesque pattern on the walls seemed to start out in bold relief. Some of the ugly lines seemed at that moment, to my imagination, almostto take human shape, to convert themselves into ogre-like faces, and togrin at me. Was I too daring? Was it wrong of me to risk my life in thismanner? I was terribly tired, and, curious as it may seem, my greatestfear at that crucial moment was the dread that I might fall asleep. Ihad spent two nights with scarcely any repose, and felt that at anymoment, notwithstanding all my efforts, slumber might visit me. In orderto give Bindloss full opportunity for carrying out his scheme, it wasnecessary for me to get into bed, and even to feign sleep. In my presentexhausted condition the pretence of slumber would easily lapse into thereality. This risk, however, which really was a very grave one, must berun. Without undressing I got into bed, pulling the bed-clothes wellover me. In my hand I held my revolver. I deliberately put out thecandles, and then lay motionless, waiting for events. The house wasquiet as the grave--there was not a stir, and gradually my nerves, excited as they were, began to calm down. As I had fully expected, overpowering sleepiness seized me, and, notwithstanding every effort, Ifound myself drifting away into the land of dreams. I began to wish thatwhatever apparition was to appear would do so at once and get it over. Gradually but surely I seemed to pass from all memory of my presentworld, and to live in a strange and terrible phantasmagoria. In thatstate I slept, in that state also I dreamt, and dreamt horribly. I thought that I was dancing a waltz with an enormously tall woman. Shetowered above me, clasping me in her arms, and began to whirl me roundand round at a giddy speed. I could hear the crashing music of a distantband. Faster and faster, round and round some great empty hall was Iwhirled. I knew that I was losing my senses, and screamed to her to stopand let me go. Suddenly there was a terrible crash close to me. GoodGod! I found myself awake, but--I was still moving. Where was I? Wherewas I going? I leapt up on the bed, only to reel and fall heavilybackwards upon the floor. What was the matter? Why was I sliding, sliding? Had I suddenly gone mad, or was I still suffering from somehideous nightmare? I tried to move, to stagger to my feet. Then by slowdegrees my senses began to return, and I knew where I was. I was in thecircular room, the room where Wentworth had died; but what was happeningto me I could not divine. I only knew that I was being whirled round andround at a velocity that was every moment increasing. By the moonlightthat struggled in through the window I saw that the floor and the bedupon it was revolving, but the table was lying on its side, and its fallmust have awakened me. I could not see any other furniture in the room. By what mysteriousmanner had it been removed? Making a great effort, I crawled to thecentre of this awful chamber, and, seizing the foot of the bed, struggled to my feet. Here I knew there would be less motion, and Icould just manage to see the outline of the door. I had taken theprecaution to slip the revolver into my pocket, and I still felt thatif human agency appeared, I had a chance of selling my life dearly; butsurely the horror I was passing through was invented by no living man!As the floor of the room revolved in the direction of the door I made adash for it, but was carried swiftly past, and again fell heavily. WhenI came round again I made a frantic effort to cling to one of the steps, but in vain; the head of the bedstead caught me as it flew round, andtore my arms away. In another moment I believe I should have gone ravingmad with terror. My head felt as if it would burst; I found itimpossible to think consecutively. The only idea which really possessedme was a mad wish to escape from this hideous place. I struggled to thebedstead, and dragging the legs from their sockets, pulled it into themiddle of the room away from the wall. With this out of the way, Imanaged at last to reach the door in safety. [Illustration: "I flung myself upon him. "A Master of Mysteries. --Page 47] The moment my hand grasped the handle I leapt upon the little step andtried to wrench the door open. It was locked, locked from without; itdefied my every effort. I had only just standing room for my feet. Belowme the floor of the room was still racing round with terrible speed. Idared scarcely look at it, for the giddiness in my head increased eachmoment. The next instant a soft footstep was distinctly audible, and Isaw a gleam of light through a chink of the door. I heard a handfumbling at the lock, the door was slowly opened outwards, and I saw theface of Bindloss. For a moment he did not perceive me, for I was crouching down on thestep, and the next instant with all my force I flung myself upon him. Heuttered a yell of terror. The lantern he carried dropped and went out, but I had gripped him round the neck with my fingers, driving them deepdown into his lean, sinewy throat. With frantic speed I pulled him alongthe passage up to a window, through which the moonlight was shining. Here I released my hold of his throat, but immediately covered him withmy revolver. "Down on your knees, or you are a dead man!" I cried. "Confesseverything, or I shoot you through the heart. " His courage had evidently forsaken him; he began to whimper and crybitterly. "Spare my life, " he screamed. "I will tell everything, only spare mylife. " "Be quick about it, " I said; "I am in no humour to be merciful. Out withthe truth. " I was listening anxiously for the wife's step, but except for the lowhum of machinery and the splashing of the water I heard nothing. "Speak, " I said, giving the old man a shake. His lips trembled, hiswords came out falteringly. "It was Wentworth's doing, " he panted. "Wentworth? Not the murdered man?" I cried. "No, no, his cousin. The ruffian who has been the curse of my life. Owing to that last death he inherits the property. He is the real ownerof the mill, and he invented the revolving floor. There were deaths--ohyes, oh yes. It was so easy, and I wanted the money. The police neversuspected, nor did the doctors. Wentworth was bitter hard on me, and Igot into his power. " Here he choked and sobbed. "I am a miserable oldman, sir, " he gasped. "So you killed your victims for the sake of money?" I said, grasping himby the shoulder. "Yes, " he said, "yes. The bailiff had twenty pounds all in gold; no oneever knew. I took it and was able to satisfy Wentworth for a bit. " "And what about Archibald Wentworth?" "That was _his_ doing, and I was to be paid. " "And now finally you wanted to get rid of me?" "Yes; for you suspected. " As I spoke I perceived by the ghastly light of the moon another doornear. I opened it and saw that it was the entrance to a small darklumber room. I pushed the old man in, turned the key in the lock, andran downstairs. The wife was still unaccountably absent. I opened thefront door, and trembling, exhausted, drenched in perspiration, foundmyself in the open air. Every nerve was shaken. At that terrible momentI was not in the least master of myself. My one desire was to fly fromthe hideous place. I had just reached the little gate when a hand, lightas a feather, touched my arm. I looked up; the girl Liz stood before me. "You are saved, " she said; "thank God! I tried all I could to stop thewheel. See, I am drenched to the skin; I could not manage it. But atleast I locked Grannie up. She's in the kitchen, sound asleep. She dranka lot of gin. " "Where were you all day yesterday?" I asked. "Locked up in a room in the further tower, but I managed to squeezethrough the window, although it half killed me. I knew if you stayedthat they would try it on to-night. Thank God you are saved. " "Well, don't keep me now, " I said; "I have been saved as by a miracle. You are a good girl; I am much obliged to you. You must tell me anothertime how you manage to live through all these horrors. " "Ain't I all but mad?" was her pathetic reply. "Oh, my God, what Isuffer!" She pressed her hand to her face; the look in her eyes wasterrible. But I could not wait now to talk to her further. I hastilyleft the place. How I reached Harkhurst I can never tell, but early in the morning Ifound myself there. I went straight to Dr. Stanmore's house, and havinggot him up, I communicated my story. He and I together immediatelyvisited the superintendent of police. Having told my exciting tale, wetook a trap and all three returned to the Castle Inn. We were back therebefore eight o'clock on the following morning. But as the police officerexpected, the place was empty. Bindloss had been rescued from the darkcloset, and he and his wife and the girl Liz had all flown. The doctor, the police officer, and I, all went up to the circular room. We thendescended to the basement, and after a careful examination we discovereda low door, through which we crept; we then found ourselves in a darkvault, which was full of machinery. By the light of a lantern weexamined it. Here we saw an explanation of the whole trick. The shaft ofthe mill-wheel which was let through the wall of the tower was_continuous as the axle of a vertical cogged wheel_, and by amultiplication action turned a large horizontal wheel into which avertical shaft descended. This shaft was let into the centre of fourcrossbeams, supporting the floor of the room in which I had slept. Allround the circular edge of the floor was a steel rim which turned in acircular socket. It needed but a touch to set this hideous apparatus inmotion. The police immediately started in pursuit of Bindloss, and I returned toLondon. That evening Edgcombe and I visited Dr. Miles Gordon. Hard-headed old physician that he was, he was literally aghast when Itold him my story. He explained to me that a man placed in the positionin which I was when the floor began to move would by means ofcentrifugal force suffer from enormous congestion of the brain. In fact, the revolving floor would induce an artificial condition of apoplexy. Ifthe victim were drugged or even only sleeping heavily, and the floorbegan to move slowly, insensibility would almost immediately be induced, which would soon pass into coma and death, and a post-mortem examinationsome hours afterwards would show no cause for death, as the brain wouldappear perfectly healthy, the blood having again left it. From the presence of Dr. Miles Gordon, Edgcombe and I went to ScotlandYard, and the whole affair was put into the hands of the Londondetective force. With the clue which I had almost sacrificed my life tofurnish, they quickly did the rest. Wentworth was arrested, and underpressure was induced to make a full confession, but old Bindloss hadalready told me the gist of the story. Wentworth's father had owned themill, had got into trouble with the law, and changed his name. In fact, he had spent five years in penal servitude. He then went to Australiaand made money. He died when his son was a young man. This youthinherited all the father's vices. He came home, visited the mill, and, being of a mechanical turn of mind, invented the revolving floor. Hechanged the mill into an inn, put Bindloss, one of his "pals, " intopossession with the full intention of murdering unwary travellers fromtime to time for their money. The police, however, wanted him for a forged bill, and he thought itbest to fly. Bindloss was left in full possession. Worried by Wentworth, who had him in his power for a grave crime committed years ago, hehimself on two occasions murdered a victim in the circular room. Meanwhile several unexpected deaths had taken place in the older branchof the Wentworth family, and Archibald Wentworth alone stood between hiscousin and the great estates. Wentworth came home, and with the aid ofBindloss got Archibald into his power. The young artist slept in thefatal room, and his death was the result. At this moment Wentworth andBindloss are committed for trial at the Old Bailey, and there is nodoubt what the result will be. The ghost mystery in connection with the Castle Inn has, of course, beenexplained away for ever. II THE WARDER OF THE DOOR "If you don't believe it, you can read it for yourself, " said AllenClinton, climbing up the steps and searching among the volumes on thetop shelf. I lay back in my chair. The beams from the sinking sun shone through thestained glass of the windows of the old library, and dyed the rows ofblack leather volumes with bands of red and yellow. "Here, Bell!" I took a musty volume from Allen Clinton, which he had unearthed fromits resting-place. "It is about the middle of the book, " he continued eagerly. "You willsee it in big, black, old English letters. " I turned over the pages containing the family tree and other archives ofthe Clintons till I came to the one I was seeking. It contained thecurse which had rested on the family since 1400. Slowly and withdifficulty I deciphered the words of this terrible denunciation. "And in this cell its coffin lieth, the coffin which hath not humanshape, for which reason no holy ground receiveth it. Here shall it restto curse the family of ye Clyntons from generation to generation. Andfor this reason, as soon as the soul shall pass from the body of eachfirst-born, which is the heir, it shall become the warder of the door byday and by night. Day and night shall his spirit stand by the door, tokeep the door closed till the son shall release the spirit of the fatherfrom the watch and take his place, till his son in turn shall die. Andwhoso entereth into the cell shall be the prisoner of the soul thatguardeth the door till it shall let him go. " "What a ghastly idea!" I said, glancing up at the young man who waswatching me as I read. "But you say this cell has never been found. Ishould say its existence was a myth, and, of course, the curse on thesoul of the first-born to keep the door shut as warder is absurd. Matterdoes not obey witchcraft. " "The odd part of it is, " replied Allen, "that every other detail of theAbbey referred to in this record has been identified; but this cell withits horrible contents has never been found. " It certainly was a curious legend, and I allow it made some impressionon me. I fancied, too, that somewhere I had heard something similar, butmy memory failed to trace it. I had come down to Clinton Abbey three days before for some pheasantshooting. It was now Sunday afternoon. The family, with the exception of old SirHenry, Allen, and myself, were at church. Sir Henry, now nearly eightyyears of age and a chronic invalid, had retired to his room for hisafternoon sleep. The younger Clinton and I had gone out for a strollround the grounds, and since we returned our conversation had run uponthe family history till it arrived at the legend of the family curse. Presently, the door of the library was slowly opened, and Sir Henry, inhis black velvet coat, which formed such a striking contrast to hissnowy white beard and hair, entered the room. I rose from my chair, and, giving him my arm, assisted him to his favourite couch. He sank downinto its luxurious depths with a sigh, but as he did so his eyes caughtthe old volume which I had laid on the table beside it. He startedforward, took the book in his hand, and looked across at his son. "Did you take this book down?" he said sharply. "Yes, father; I got it out to show it to Bell. He is interested in thehistory of the Abbey, and----" "Then return it to its place at once, " interrupted the old man, hisblack eyes blazing with sudden passion. "You know how I dislike havingmy books disarranged, and this one above all. Stay, give it to me. " He struggled up from the couch, and, taking the volume, locked it up inone of the drawers of his writing-table, and then sat back again on thesofa. His hands were trembling, as if some sudden fear had takenpossession of him. "Did you say that Phyllis Curzon is coming to-morrow?" asked the old manpresently of his son in an irritable voice. "Yes, father, of course; don't you remember? Mrs. Curzon and Phyllis arecoming to stay for a fortnight; and, by the way, " he added, starting tohis feet as he spoke, "that reminds me I must go and tell Grace----" The rest of the sentence was lost in the closing of the door. As soon aswe were alone, Sir Henry looked across at me for a few moments withoutspeaking. Then he said, -- "I am sorry I was so short just now. I am not myself. I do not know whatis the matter with me. I feel all to pieces. I cannot sleep. I do notthink my time is very long now, and I am worried about Allen. The factis, I would give anything to stop this engagement. I wish he would notmarry. " "I am sorry to hear you say that, sir, " I answered. "I should havethought you would have been anxious to see your son happily married. " "Most men would, " was the reply; "but I have my reasons for wishingthings otherwise. " "What do you mean?" I could not help asking. "I cannot explain myself; I wish I could. It would be best for Allen tolet the old family die out. There, perhaps I am foolish about it, and ofcourse I cannot really stop the marriage, but I am worried and troubledabout many things. " "I wish I could help you, sir, " I said impulsively. "If there isanything I can possibly do, you know you have only to ask me. " "Thank you, Bell, I know you would; but I cannot tell you. Some day Imay. But there, I am afraid--horribly afraid. " The trembling again seized him, and he put his hands over his eyes as ifto shut out some terrible sight. "Don't repeat a word of what I have told you to Allen or any one else, "he said suddenly. "It is possible that some day I may ask you to helpme; and remember, Bell, I trust you. " He held out his hand, which I took. In another moment the butler enteredwith the lamps, and I took advantage of the interruption to make my wayto the drawing-room. The next day the Curzons arrived, and a hasty glance showed me thatPhyllis was a charming girl. She was tall, slightly built, with a figureboth upright and graceful, and a handsome, somewhat proud face. When inperfect repose her expression was somewhat haughty; but the moment shespoke her face became vivacious, kindly, charming to an extraordinarydegree; she had a gay laugh, a sweet smile, a sympathetic manner. I wascertain she had the kindest of hearts, and was sure that Allen had madean admirable choice. A few days went by, and at last the evening before the day when I was toreturn to London arrived. Phyllis's mother had gone to bed a short timebefore, as she had complained of headache, and Allen suddenly proposed, as the night was a perfect one, that we should go out and enjoy amoonlight stroll. Phyllis laughed with glee at the suggestion, and ran at once into thehall to take a wrap from one of the pegs. "Allen, " she said to her lover, who was following her, "you and I willgo first. " "No, young lady, on this occasion you and I will have that privilege, "said Sir Henry. He had also come into the hall, and, to ourastonishment, announced his intention of accompanying us in our walk. Phyllis bestowed upon him a startled glance, then she laid her handlightly on his arm, nodded back at Allen with a smile, and walked on infront somewhat rapidly. Allen and I followed in the rear. "Now, what does my father mean by this?" said Allen to me. "He nevergoes out at night; but he has not been well lately. I sometimes think hegrows queerer every day. " "He is very far from well, I am certain, " I answered. We stayed out for about half an hour and returned home by a path whichled into the house through a side entrance. Phyllis was waiting for usin the hall. "Where is my father?" asked Allen, going up to her. "He is tired and has gone to bed, " she answered. "Good-night, Allen. " "Won't you come into the drawing-room?" he asked in some astonishment. "No, I am tired. " She nodded to him without touching his hand; her eyes, I could not helpnoticing, had a queer expression. She ran upstairs. I saw that Allen was startled by her manner; but as he did not sayanything, neither did I. The next day at breakfast I was told that the Curzons had already leftthe Abbey. Allen was full of astonishment and, I could see, a good dealannoyed. He and I breakfasted alone in the old library. His father wastoo ill to come downstairs. An hour later I was on my way back to London. Many things there engagedmy immediate attention, and Allen, his engagement, Sir Henry, and theold family curse, sank more or less into the background of my mind. Three months afterwards, on the 7th of January, I saw to my sorrow inthe _Times_ the announcement of Sir Henry Clinton's death. From time to time in the interim I had heard from the son, saying thathis father was failing fast. He further mentioned that his own weddingwas fixed for the twenty-first of the present month. Now, of course, itmust be postponed. I felt truly sorry for Allen, and wrote immediatelya long letter of condolence. On the following day I received a wire from him, imploring me to go downto the Abbey as soon as possible, saying that he was in greatdifficulty. I packed a few things hastily, and arrived at Clinton Abbey at six inthe evening. The house was silent and subdued--the funeral was to takeplace the next day. Clinton came into the hall and gripped me warmly bythe hand. I noticed at once how worn and worried he looked. "This is good of you, Bell, " he said. "I cannot tell you how grateful Iam to you for coming. You are the one man who can help me, for I knowyou have had much experience in matters of this sort. Come into thelibrary and I will tell you everything. We shall dine alone thisevening, as my mother and the girls are keeping to their own apartmentsfor to-night. " As soon as we were seated, he plunged at once into his story. "I must give you a sort of prelude to what has just occurred, " he began. "You remember, when you were last here, how abruptly Phyllis and hermother left the Abbey?" I nodded. I remembered well. "On the morning after you had left us I had a long letter from Phyllis, "continued Allen. "In it she told me of an extraordinary request myfather had made to her during that moonlight walk--nothing more nor lessthan an earnest wish that she would herself terminate our engagement. She spoke quite frankly, as she always does, assuring me of herunalterable love and devotion, but saying that under the circumstancesit was absolutely necessary to have an explanation. Frantic with almostungovernable rage, I sought my father in his study. I laid Phyllis'sletter before him and asked him what it meant. He looked at me with themost unutterable expression of weariness and pathos. "'Yes, my boy, I did it, ' he said. 'Phyllis is quite right. I did ask ofher, as earnestly as a very old man could plead, that she would bringthe engagement to an end. ' "'But why?' I asked. 'Why?' "'That I am unable to tell you, ' he replied. "I lost my temper and said some words to him which I now regret. He madeno sort of reply. When I had done speaking he said slowly, -- "'I make all allowance for your emotion, Allen; your feelings are nomore than natural. ' "'You have done me a very sore injury, ' I retorted. 'What can Phyllisthink of this? She will never be the same again. I am going to see herto-day. ' "He did not utter another word, and I left him. I was absent from homefor about a week. It took me nearly that time to induce Phyllis tooverlook my father's extraordinary request, and to let matters go onexactly as they had done before. "After fixing our engagement, if possible, more firmly than ever, andalso arranging the date of our wedding, I returned home. When I did so Itold my father what I had done. "'As you will, ' he replied, and then he sank into great gloom. From thatmoment, although I watched him day and night, and did everything thatlove and tenderness could suggest, he never seemed to rally. He scarcelyspoke, and remained, whenever we were together, bowed in deep andpainful reverie. A week ago he took to his bed. " Here Allen paused. "I now come to events up to date, " he said. "Of course, as you maysuppose, I was with my father to the last. A few hours before he passedaway he called me to his bedside, and to my astonishment began once moretalking about my engagement. He implored me with the utmost earnestnesseven now at the eleventh hour to break it off. It was not too late, hesaid, and added further that nothing would give him ease in dying butthe knowledge that I would promise him to remain single. Of course Itried to humour him. He took my hand, looked me in the eyes with anexpression which I shall never forget, and said, -- "'Allen, make me a solemn promise that you will never marry. ' "This I naturally had to refuse, and then he told me that, expecting myobstinacy, he had written me a letter which I should find in his safe, but I was not to open it till after his death. I found it this morning. Bell, it is the most extraordinary communication, and either it isentirely a figment of his imagination, for his brain powers were failingvery much at the last, or else it is the most awful thing I ever heardof. Here is the letter; read it for yourself. " I took the paper from his hand and read the following matter in shaky, almost illegible writing:-- "My dear Boy, --When you read this I shall have passed away. For the last six months my life has been a living death. The horror began in the following way. You know what a deep interest I have always taken in the family history of our house. I have spent the latter years of my life in verifying each detail, and my intention was, had health been given me, to publish a great deal of it in a suitable volume. "On the special night to which I am about to allude, I sat up late in my study reading the book which I saw you show to Bell a short time ago. In particular, I was much attracted by the terrible curse which the old abbot in the fourteenth century had bestowed upon the family. I read the awful words again and again. I knew that all the other details in the volume had been verified, but that the vault with the coffin had never yet been found. Presently I grew drowsy, and I suppose I must have fallen asleep. In my sleep I had a dream; I thought that some one came into the room, touched me on the shoulder, and said 'Come. ' I looked up; a tall figure beckoned to me. The voice and the figure belonged to my late father. In my dream I rose immediately, although I did not know why I went nor where I was going. The figure went on in front, it entered the hall. I took one of the candles from the table and the key of the chapel, unbolted the door and went out. Still the voice kept saying 'Come, come, ' and the figure of my father walked in front of me. I went across the quadrangle, unlocked the chapel door, and entered. "A death-like silence was around me. I crossed the nave to the north aisle; the figure still went in front of me; it entered the great pew which is said to be haunted, and walked straight up to the effigy of the old abbot who had pronounced the curse. This, as you know, is built into the opposite wall. Bending forward, the figure pressed the eyes of the old monk, and immediately a stone started out of its place, revealing a staircase behind. I was about to hurry forward, when I must have knocked against something. I felt a sensation of pain, and suddenly awoke. What was my amazement to find that I had acted on my dream, had crossed the quadrangle, and was in the chapel; in fact, was standing in the old pew! Of course there was no figure of any sort visible, but the moonlight shed a cold radiance over all the place. I felt very much startled and impressed, but was just about to return to the house in some wonder at the curious vision which I had experienced, when, raising my startled eyes, I saw that part of it at least was real. The old monk seemed to grin at me from his marble effigy, and beside him was a _blank open space_. I hurried to it and saw a narrow flight of stairs. I cannot explain what my emotions were, but my keenest feeling at that moment was a strong and horrible curiosity. Holding the candle in my hand, I went down the steps. They terminated at the beginning of a long passage. This I quickly traversed, and at last found myself beside an iron door. It was not locked, but hasped, and was very hard to open; in fact, it required nearly all my strength; at last I pulled it open towards me, and there in a small cell lay the coffin, as the words of the curse said. I gazed at it in horror. I did not dare to enter. It was a wedged- shaped coffin studded with great nails. But as I looked my blood froze within me, for slowly, very slowly, as if pushed by some unseen hand, the great heavy door began to close, quicker and quicker, until with a crash that echoed and re-echoed through the empty vault, it shut. "Terror-stricken, I rushed from the vault and reached my room once more. "Now I know that this great curse is true; that my father's spirit is there to guard the door and close it, for I saw it with my own eyes, and while you read this know that I am there. I charge you, therefore, not to marry--bring no child into the world to perpetuate this terrible curse. Let the family die out if you have the courage. It is much, I know, to ask; but whether you do or not, come to me there, and if by sign or word I can communicate with you I will do so, but hold the secret safe. Meet me there before my body is laid to rest, when body and soul are still not far from each other. Farewell. "--Your loving father, "Henry Clinton. " I read this strange letter over carefully twice, and laid it down. For amoment I hardly knew what to say. It was certainly the most uncannything I had ever come across. "What do you think of it?" asked Allen at last. "Well, of course there are only two possible solutions, " I answered. "One is that your father not only dreamt the beginning of thisstory--which, remember, he allows himself--but the whole of it. " "And the other?" asked Allen, seeing that I paused. "The other, " I continued, "I hardly know what to say yet. Of course wewill investigate the whole thing, that is our only chance of arrivingat a solution. It is absurd to let matters rest as they are. We hadbetter try to-night. " Clinton winced and hesitated. "Something must be done, of course, " he answered; "but the worst of itis Phyllis and her mother are coming here early to-morrow in time for thefuneral, and I cannot meet her--no, I cannot, poor girl!--while I feelas I do. " "We will go to the vault to-night, " I said. Clinton rose from his chair and looked at me. "I don't like this thing at all, Bell, " he continued. "I am not bynature in any sense of the word a superstitious man, but I tell youfrankly nothing would induce me to go alone into that chapel to-night;if you come with me, that, of course, alters matters. I know the pew myfather refers to well; it is beneath the window of St. Sebastian. " Soon afterwards I went to my room and dressed; and Allen and I dined_tête-à-tête_ in the great dining-room. The old butler waited on uswith funereal solemnity, and I did all I could to lure Clinton'sthoughts into a more cheerful and healthier channel. I cannot say that I was very successful. I further noticed that hescarcely ate anything, and seemed altogether to be in a state of nervoustension painful to witness. After dinner we went into the smoking-room, and at eleven o'clock Iproposed that we should make a start. Clinton braced himself together and we went out. He got the chapel keys, and then going to the stables we borrowed a lantern, and a momentafterwards found ourselves in the sacred edifice. The moon was at herfull, and by the pale light which was diffused through the south windowsthe architecture of the interior could be faintly seen. The Gothicarches that flanked the centre aisle with their quaint pillars, eachwith a carved figure of one of the saints, were quite visible, andfurther in the darkness of the chancel the dim outlines of the choir andaltar-table with its white marble reredos could be just discerned. We closed the door softly and, Clinton leading the way with the lantern, we walked up the centre aisle paved with the brasses of his deadancestors. We trod gently on tiptoe as one instinctively does at night. Turning beneath the little pulpit we reached the north transept, andhere Clinton stopped and turned round. He was very white, but his voicewas quiet. "This is the pew, " he whispered. "It has always been called the hauntedpew of Sir Hugh Clinton. " I took the lantern from him and we entered. I crossed the pewimmediately and went up to the effigy of the old abbot. "Let us examine him closely, " I said. I held up the lantern, getting itto shine on each part of the face, the vestments, and the figure. Theeyes, although vacant, as in all statuary, seemed to me at that momentto be uncanny and peculiar. Giving Allen the lantern to hold, I placed afinger firmly on each. The next moment I could not refrain from anexclamation; a stone at the side immediately rolled back, revealing thesteps which were spoken of by the old man in his narrative. "It is true! It is true!" cried Clinton excitedly. "It certainly looks like it, " I remarked: "but never mind, we have thechance now of investigating this matter thoroughly. " "Are you going down?" asked Clinton. "Certainly I am, " I replied. "Let us go together. " Immediately afterwards we crept through the opening and began todescend. There was only just room to do so in single file, and I wentfirst with the lantern. In another moment we were in the long passage, and soon we were confronted by a door in an arched stone framework. Uptill now Clinton had shown little sign of alarm, but here, at thetrysting-place to which his father's soul had summoned him, he seemedsuddenly to lose his nerve. He leant against the wall and for a moment Ithought he would have fallen. I held up the lantern and examined thedoor and walls carefully. Then approaching I lifted the iron latch ofthe heavy door. It was very hard to move, but at last by seizing theedge I dragged it open to its full against the wall of the passage. Having done so I peered inside, holding the lantern above my head. As Idid so I heard Clinton cry out, -- "Look, look, " he said, and turning I saw that the great door had swungback against me, almost shutting me within the cell. Telling Clinton to hold it back by force, I stepped inside and saw at myfeet the ghastly coffin. The legend then so far was true. I bent downand examined the queer, misshapen thing with great care. Its shape wasthat of an enormous wedge, and it was apparently made of some dark oldwood, and was bound with iron at the corners. Having looked at it allround, I went out and, flinging back the door which Clinton had beenholding open, stood aside to watch. Slowly, very slowly, as we bothstood in the passage--slowly, as if pushed by some invisible hand, thedoor commenced to swing round, and, increasing in velocity, shut with anoisy clang. Seizing it once again, I dragged it open and, while Clinton held it inthat position, made a careful examination. Up to the present I sawnothing to be much alarmed about. There were fifty ways in which a doormight shut of its own accord. There might be a hidden spring or tiltedhinges; draught, of course, was out of the question. I looked at thehinges, they were of iron and set in the solid masonry. Nor could Idiscover any spring or hidden contrivance, as when the door was wideopen there was an interval of several inches between it and the wall. Wetried it again and again with the same result, and at last, as it wasclosing, I seized it to prevent it. I now experienced a very odd sensation; I certainly felt as if I wereresisting an unseen person who was pressing hard against the door at theother side. Directly it was released it continued its course. I allow Iwas quite unable to understand the mystery. Suddenly an idea struck me. "What does the legend say?" I asked, turning to Clinton. "'That the soulis to guard the door, to close it upon the coffin?'" "Those are the words, " answered Allen, speaking with some difficulty. "Now if that is true, " I continued, "and we take the coffin out, thespirit won't shut the door; if it does shut it, it disproves the wholething at once, and shows it to be merely a clever mechanicalcontrivance. Come, Clinton, help me to get the coffin out. " "I dare not, Bell, " he whispered hoarsely. "I daren't go inside. " "Nonsense, man, " I said, feeling now a little annoyed at the wholething. "Here, put the lantern down and hold the door back. " I stepped inand, getting behind the coffin, put out all my strength and shoved itinto the passage. "Now, then, " I cried, "I'll bet you fifty pounds to five the door willshut just the same. " I dragged the coffin clear of the door and told himto let go. Clinton had scarcely done so before, stepping back, heclutched my arm. "Look, " he whispered; "do you see that it will not shut now? My fatheris waiting for the coffin to be put back. This is awful!" I gazed at the door in horror; it was perfectly true, it remained wideopen, and quite still. I sprang forward, seized it, and now endeavouredto close it. It was as if some one was trying to hold it open; itrequired considerable force to stir it, and it was only with difficultyI could move it at all. At last I managed to shut it, but the moment Ilet go it swung back open of its own accord and struck against the wall, where it remained just as before. In the dead silence that followed Icould hear Clinton breathing quickly behind me, and I knew he washolding himself for all he was worth. At that moment there suddenly came over me a sensation which I had onceexperienced before, and which I was twice destined to experience again. It is impossible to describe it, but it seized me, laying siege to mybrain till I felt like a child in its power. It was as if I were slowlydrowning in the great ocean of silence that enveloped us. Time itselfseemed to have disappeared. At my feet lay the misshapen thing, and thelantern behind it cast a fantastic shadow of its distorted outline onthe cell wall before me. "Speak; say something, " I cried to Clinton. The sharp sound of my voicebroke the spell. I felt myself again, and smiled at the trick my nerveshad played on me. I bent down and once more laid my hands on the coffin, but before I had time to push it back into its place Clinton had gone upthe passage like a man who is flying to escape a hurled javelin. Exerting all my force to prevent the door from swinging back by keepingmy leg against it, I had just got the coffin into the cell and was goingout, when I heard a shrill cry, and Clinton came tearing back down thepassage. "I can't get out! The stone has sunk into its place! We are locked in!"he screamed, and, wild with fear, he plunged headlong into the cell, upsetting me in his career before I could check him. I sprang back tothe door as it was closing. I was too late. Before I could reach it, ithad shut with a loud clang in obedience to the infernal witchcraft. "You have done it now, " I cried angrily. "Do you see? Why, man, we areburied alive in this ghastly hole!" The lantern I had placed just inside the door, and by its dim light, asI looked at him, I saw the terror of a madman creep into Clinton's eyes. "Buried alive!" he shouted, with a peal of hysterical laughter. "Yes, and, Bell, it's your doing; you are a devil in human shape!" With a wildparoxysm of fury he flung himself upon me. There was the ferocity of awild beast in his spring. He upset the lantern and left us in totaldarkness. The struggle was short. We might be buried alive, but I was not going todie by his hand, and seizing him by the throat I pinned him against thewall. [Illustration: "It had shut with a loud clang. "A Master of Mysteries. --Page 86] "Keep quiet, " I shouted. "It is your thundering stupidity that hascaused all this. Stay where you are until I strike a match. " I luckily had some vestas in the little silver box which I always carryon my watch-chain, and striking one I relit the lantern. Clinton'sparoxysm was over, and sinking to the floor he lay there shivering andcowering. It was a terrible situation, and I knew that our only hope was for me tokeep my presence of mind. With a great effort I forced myself to thinkcalmly over what could be done. To shout for help would have been but auseless waste of breath. Suddenly an idea struck me. "Have you got your father's letter?" I criedeagerly. "I have, " he answered; "it is in my pocket. " My last ray of hope vanished. Our only chance was that if he had left itat the house some one might discover the letter and come to our rescueby its instructions. It had been a faint hope, and it disappearedalmost as quickly as it had come to me. Without it no one would everfind the way to the vault that had remained a secret for ages. I wasdetermined, however, not to die without a struggle for freedom. Takingthe lantern, I examined every nook and cranny of the cell for some otherexit. It was a fruitless search. No sign of any way out could I find, and we had absolutely no means to unfasten the door from the inner side. Taking a few short steps, I flung myself again and again at the heavydoor. It never budged an inch, and, bruised and sweating at every pore, I sat down on the coffin and tried to collect all my faculties. Clinton was silent, and seemed utterly stunned. He sat still, gazingwith a vacant stare at the door. The time dragged heavily, and there was nothing to do but to wait for ahorrible death from starvation. It was more than likely, too, thatClinton would go mad; already his nerves were strained to the utmost. Altogether I had never found myself in a worse plight. It seemed like an eternity that we sat there, neither of us speaking aword. Over and over again I repeated to myself the words of the terriblecurse: "And whoso entereth into the cell shall be the prisoner of thesoul that guardeth the door till it shall let him go. " When would theshapeless form that was inside the coffin let us go? Doubtless when ourbones were dry. I looked at my watch. It was half-past eleven o'clock. Surely we hadbeen more than ten minutes in this awful place! We had left the house ateleven, and I knew that must have been many hours ago. I glanced at thesecond hand. _The watch had stopped. _ "What is the time, Clinton?" I asked. "My watch has stopped. " "What does it matter?" he murmured. "What is time to us now? The soonerwe die the better. " He pulled out his watch as he spoke, and held it to the lantern. "Twenty-five minutes past eleven, " he murmured dreamily. "Good heavens!" I cried, starting up. "Has your watch stopped, too?" Then, like the leap of a lightning flash, an idea struck me. "I have got it; I have got it! My God! I believe I have got it!" Icried, seizing him by the arm. "Got what?" he replied, staring wildly at me. "Why, the secret--the curse--the door. Don't you see?" I pulled out the large knife I always carry by a chain and swivel in mytrouser pocket, and telling Clinton to hold the lantern, opened thelittle blade-saw and attacked the coffin with it. "I believe the secret of our deliverance lies in this, " I panted, working away furiously. In ten minutes I had sawn half through the wooden edge, then, handing mytool to Clinton, I told him to continue the work while I rested. After afew minutes I took the knife again, and at last, after nearly half anhour had gone by, succeeded in making a small hole in the lid. Inserting my two fingers, I felt some rough, uneven masses. I was nowfearfully excited. Tearing at the opening like a madman, I enlarged itand extracted what looked like a large piece of coal. I knew in aninstant what it was. It was magnetic iron-ore. Holding it down to myknife, the blade flew to it. "Here is the mystery of the soul, " I cried; "now we can use it to openthe door. " I had known a great conjurer once, who had deceived and puzzled hisaudience with a box trick on similar lines: the man opening the box fromthe inside by drawing down the lock with a magnet. Would this do thesame? I felt that our lives hung on the next moment. Taking the mass, Ipressed it against the door just opposite the hasp, and slid it upagainst the wood. My heart leapt as I heard the hasp fly up outside, andwith a push the door opened. "We are saved, " I shouted. "We are saved by a miracle!" "Bell, you are a genius, " gasped poor Clinton; "but now, how about thestone at the end of the passage?" "We will soon see about that, " I cried, taking the lantern. "Half thedanger is over, at any rate; and the worst half, too. " We rushed along the passage and up the stair until we reached the top. "Why, Clinton, " I cried, holding up the lantern, "the place was not shutat all. " Nor was it. In his terror he had imagined it. "I could not see in the dark, and I was nearly dead with fright, " hesaid. "Oh, Bell, let us get out of this as quickly as we can!" We crushed through the aperture and once more stood in the chapel. Ithen pushed the stone back into its place. Dawn was just breaking when we escaped from the chapel. We hastenedacross to the house. In the hall the clock pointed to five. "Well, we have had an awful time, " I said, as we stood in the halltogether; "but at least, Clinton, the end was worth the ghastly terror. I have knocked the bottom out of your family legend for ever. " "I don't even now quite understand, " he said. "Don't you?--but it is so easy. That coffin never contained a body atall, but was filled, as you perceive, with fragments of magneticiron-ore. For what diabolical purposes the cell was intended, it is, ofcourse, impossible to say; but that it must have been meant as a humantrap there is little doubt. The inventor certainly exercised no smallingenuity when he devised his diabolical plot, for it was obvious thatthe door, which was made of iron, would swing towards the coffinwherever it happened to be placed. Thus the door would shut if thecoffin were _inside the cell_, and would remain open if the coffin were_brought out_. A cleverer method for simulating a spiritual agency itwould be hard to find. Of course, the monk must have known well thatmagnetic iron-ore never loses its quality and would ensure the deceptionremaining potent for ages. " "But how did you discover by means of our watches?" asked Clinton. "Any one who understands magnetism can reply to that, " I said. "It is awell-known fact that a strong magnet plays havoc with watches. The factof both our watches going wrong first gave me a clue to the mystery. " Later in the day the whole of this strange affair was explained to MissCurzon, and not long afterwards the passage and entrance to the chapelwere bricked up. It is needless to add that six months later the pair were married, and, I believe, are as happy as they deserve. III THE MYSTERY OF THE FELWYN TUNNEL I was making experiments of some interest at South Kensington, and hopedthat I had perfected a small but not unimportant discovery, when, onreturning home one evening in late October in the year 1893, I found avisiting card on my table. On it were inscribed the words, "Mr. GeoffreyBainbridge. " This name was quite unknown to me, so I rang the bell andinquired of my servant who the visitor had been. He described him as agentleman who wished to see me on most urgent business, and said furtherthat Mr. Bainbridge intended to call again later in the evening. It waswith both curiosity and vexation that I awaited the return of thestranger. Urgent business with me generally meant a hurried rush to onepart of the country or the other. I did not want to leave London justthen; and when at half-past nine Mr. Geoffrey Bainbridge was usheredinto my room, I received him with a certain coldness which he could notfail to perceive. He was a tall, well-dressed, elderly man. Heimmediately plunged into the object of his visit. "I hope you do not consider my unexpected presence an intrusion, Mr. Bell, " he said. "But I have heard of you from our mutual friends, theGreys of Uplands. You may remember once doing that family a greatservice. " "I remember perfectly well, " I answered more cordially. "Pray tell mewhat you want; I shall listen with attention. " "I believe you are the one man in London who can help me, " he continued. "I refer to a matter especially relating to your own particular study. Ineed hardly say that whatever you do will not be unrewarded. " "That is neither here nor there, " I said; "but before you go anyfurther, allow me to ask one question. Do you want me to leave London atpresent?" He raised his eyebrows in dismay. "I certainly do, " he answered. "Very well; pray proceed with your story. " He looked at me with anxiety. "In the first place, " he began, "I must tell you that I am chairman ofthe Lytton Vale Railway Company in Wales, and that it is on an importantmatter connected with our line that I have come to consult you. When Iexplain to you the nature of the mystery, you will not wonder, I think, at my soliciting your aid. " "I will give you my closest attention, " I answered; and then I added, impelled to say the latter words by a certain expression on his face, "if I can see my way to assisting you I shall be ready to do so. " "Pray accept my cordial thanks, " he replied. "I have come up from myplace at Felwyn to-day on purpose to consult you. It is in thatneighbourhood that the affair has occurred. As it is essential that youshould be in possession of the facts of the whole matter, I will go overthings just as they happened. " I bent forward and listened attentively. "This day fortnight, " continued Mr. Bainbridge, "our quiet littlevillage was horrified by the news that the signalman on duty at themouth of the Felwyn Tunnel had been found dead under the most mysteriouscircumstances. The tunnel is at the end of a long cutting betweenLlanlys and Felwyn stations. It is about a mile long, and the signal-boxis on the Felwyn side. The place is extremely lonely, being six milesfrom the village across the mountains. The name of the poor fellow whomet his death in this mysterious fashion was David Pritchard. I haveknown him from a boy, and he was quite one of the steadiest and mosttrustworthy men on the line. On Tuesday evening he went on duty at sixo'clock; on Wednesday morning the day-man who had come to relieve himwas surprised not to find him in the box. It was just getting daylight, and the 6. 30 local was coming down, so he pulled the signals and let herthrough. Then he went out, and, looking up the line towards the tunnel, saw Pritchard lying beside the line close to the mouth of the tunnel. Roberts, the day-man, ran up to him and found, to his horror, that hewas quite dead. At first Roberts naturally supposed that he had been cutdown by a train, as there was a wound at the back of the head; but hewas not lying on the metals. Roberts ran back to the box and telegraphedthrough to Felwyn Station. The message was sent on to the village, andat half-past seven o'clock the police inspector came up to my house withthe news. He and I, with the local doctor, went off at once to thetunnel. We found the dead man lying beside the metals a few yards awayfrom the mouth of the tunnel, and the doctor immediately gave him acareful examination. There was a depressed fracture at the back of theskull, which must have caused his death; but how he came by it was notso clear. On examining the whole place most carefully, we saw, further, that there were marks on the rocks at the steep side of the embankmentas if some one had tried to scramble up them. Why the poor fellow hadattempted such a climb, God only knows. In doing so he must have slippedand fallen back on to the line, thus causing the fracture of the skull. In no case could he have gone up more than eight or ten feet, as thebanks of the cutting run sheer up, almost perpendicularly, beyond thatpoint for more than a hundred and fifty feet. There are some sharpboulders beside the line, and it was possible that he might have fallenon one of these and so sustained the injury. The affair must haveoccurred some time between 11. 45 p. M. And 6 a. M. , as the engine-driverof the express at 11. 45 p. M. States that the line was signalled clear, and he also caught sight of Pritchard in his box as he passed. " "This is deeply interesting, " I said; "pray proceed. " Bainbridge looked at me earnestly; he then continued:-- "The whole thing is shrouded in mystery. Why should Pritchard have lefthis box and gone down to the tunnel? Why, having done so, should he havemade a wild attempt to scale the side of the cutting, an impossible featat any time? Had danger threatened, the ordinary course of things wouldhave been to run up the line towards the signal-box. These points arequite unexplained. Another curious fact is that death appears to havetaken place just before the day-man came on duty, as the light at themouth of the tunnel had been put out, and it was one of the nightsignalman's duties to do this as soon as daylight appeared; it ispossible, therefore, that Pritchard went down to the tunnel for thatpurpose. Against this theory, however, and an objection that seems tonullify it, is the evidence of Dr. Williams, who states that when heexamined the body his opinion was that death had taken place some hoursbefore. An inquest was held on the following day, but before it tookplace there was a new and most important development. I now come to whatI consider the crucial point in the whole story. "For a long time there had been a feud between Pritchard and another manof the name of Wynne, a platelayer on the line. The object of theirquarrel was the blacksmith's daughter in the neighbouring village--aremarkably pretty girl and an arrant flirt. Both men were madly in lovewith her, and she played them off one against the other. The night butone before his death Pritchard and Wynne had met at the village inn, hadquarrelled in the bar--Lucy, of course, being the subject of theirdifference. Wynne was heard to say (he was a man of powerful build andsubject to fits of ungovernable rage) that he would have Pritchard'slife. Pritchard swore a great oath that he would get Lucy on thefollowing day to promise to marry him. This oath, it appears, he kept, and on his way to the signal-box on Tuesday evening met Wynne, andtriumphantly told him that Lucy had promised to be his wife. The men hada hand-to-hand fight on the spot, several people from the village beingwitnesses of it. They were separated with difficulty, each vowingvengeance on the other. Pritchard went off to his duty at the signal-boxand Wynne returned to the village to drown his sorrows at thepublic-house. "Very late that same night Wynne was seen by a villager going in thedirection of the tunnel. The man stopped him and questioned him. Heexplained that he had left some of his tools on the line, and was on hisway to fetch them. The villager noticed that he looked queer andexcited, but not wishing to pick a quarrel thought it best not toquestion him further. It has been proved that Wynne never returned homethat night, but came back at an early hour on the following morning, looking dazed and stupid. He was arrested on suspicion, and at theinquest the verdict was against him. " "Has he given any explanation of his own movements?" I asked. "Yes; but nothing that can clear him. As a matter of fact, his toolswere nowhere to be seen on the line, nor did he bring them home withhim. His own story is that being considerably the worse for drink, hehad fallen down in one of the fields and slept there till morning. " "Things look black against him, " I said. "They do; but listen, I have something more to add. Here comes a veryqueer feature in the affair. Lucy Ray, the girl who had caused the feudbetween Pritchard and Wynne, after hearing the news of Pritchard'sdeath, completely lost her head, and ran frantically about the villagedeclaring that Wynne was the man she really loved, and that she had onlyaccepted Pritchard in a fit of rage with Wynne for not himself bringingmatters to the point. The case looks very bad against Wynne, andyesterday the magistrate committed him for trial at the coming assizes. The unhappy Lucy Ray and the young man's parents are in a statebordering on distraction. " "What is your own opinion with regard to Wynne's guilt?" I asked. "Before God, Mr. Bell, I believe the poor fellow is innocent, but theevidence against him is very strong. One of the favourite theories isthat he went down to the tunnel and extinguished the light, knowing thatthis would bring Pritchard out of his box to see what was the matter, and that he then attacked him, striking the blow which fractured theskull. " "Has any weapon been found about, with which he could have given such ablow?" "No; nor has anything of the kind been discovered on Wynne's person;that fact is decidedly in his favour. " "But what about the marks on the rocks?" I asked. "It is possible that Wynne may have made them in order to divertsuspicion by making people think that Pritchard must have fallen, and sokilled himself. The holders of this theory base their belief on theabsolute want of cause for Pritchard's trying to scale the rock. Thewhole thing is the most absolute enigma. Some of the country folk havedeclared that the tunnel is haunted (and there certainly has been such arumour current among them for years). That Pritchard saw someapparition, and in wild terror sought to escape from it by climbing therocks, is another theory, but only the most imaginative hold it. " "Well, it is a most extraordinary case, " I replied. "Yes, Mr. Bell, and I should like to get your opinion of it. Do you seeyour way to elucidate the mystery?" "Not at present; but I shall be happy to investigate the matter to myutmost ability. " "But you do not wish to leave London at present?" "That is so; but a matter of such importance cannot be set aside. Itappears, from what you say, that Wynne's life hangs more or less on mybeing able to clear away the mystery?" "That is indeed the case. There ought not to be a single stone leftunturned to get at the truth, for the sake of Wynne. Well, Mr. Bell, what do you propose to do?" "To see the place without delay, " I answered. "That is right; when can you come?" "Whenever you please. " "Will you come down to Felwyn with me to-morrow? I shall leavePaddington by the 7. 10, and if you will be my guest I shall be only toopleased to put you up. " "That arrangement will suit me admirably, " I replied. "I will meet youby the train you mention, and the affair shall have my best attention. " "Thank you, " he said, rising. He shook hands with me and took his leave. The next day I met Bainbridge at Paddington Station, and we were soonflying westward in the luxurious private compartment that had beenreserved for him. I could see by his abstracted manner and his longlapses of silence that the mysterious affair at Felwyn Tunnel wasoccupying all his thoughts. It was two o'clock in the afternoon when the train slowed down at thelittle station of Felwyn. The station-master was at the door in aninstant to receive us. "I have some terribly bad news for you, sir, " he said, turning toBainbridge as we alighted; "and yet in one sense it is a relief, for itseems to clear Wynne. " "What do you mean?" cried Bainbridge. "Bad news? Speak out at once!" "Well, sir, it is this: there has been another death at Felwynsignal-box. John Davidson, who was on duty last night, was found dead atan early hour this morning in the very same place where we found poorPritchard. " "Good God!" cried Bainbridge, starting back, "what an awful thing! What, in the name of Heaven, does it mean, Mr. Bell? This is too fearful. Thank goodness you have come down with us. " "It is as black a business as I ever heard of, sir, " echoed thestation-master; "and what we are to do I don't know. Poor Davidson wasfound dead this morning, and there was neither mark nor sign of whatkilled him--that is the extraordinary part of it. There's a perfectpanic abroad, and not a signalman on the line will take duty to-night. Iwas quite in despair, and was afraid at one time that the line wouldhave to be closed, but at last it occurred to me to wire to Lytton Vale, and they are sending down an inspector. I expect him by a special everymoment. I believe this is he coming now, " added the station-master, looking up the line. There was the sound of a whistle down the valley, and in a few moments asingle engine shot into the station, and an official in uniform steppedon to the platform. "Good-evening, sir, " he said, touching his cap to Bainbridge; "I havejust been sent down to inquire into this affair at the Felwyn Tunnel, and though it seems more of a matter for a Scotland Yard detective thanone of ourselves, there was nothing for it but to come. All the same, Mr. Bainbridge, I cannot say that I look forward to spending to-nightalone at the place. " "You wish for the services of a detective, but you shall have some onebetter, " said Bainbridge, turning towards me. "This gentleman, Mr. JohnBell, is the man of all others for our business. I have just brought himdown from London for the purpose. " An expression of relief flitted across the inspector's face. "I am very glad to see you, sir, " he said to me, "and I hope you will beable to spend the night with me in the signal-box. I must say I don'tmuch relish the idea of tackling the thing single-handed; but with yourhelp, sir, I think we ought to get to the bottom of it somehow. I amafraid there is not a man on the line who will take duty until we do. Soit is most important that the thing should be cleared, and withoutdelay. " I readily assented to the inspector's proposition, and Bainbridge and Iarranged that we should call for him at four o'clock at the village innand drive him to the tunnel. We then stepped into the wagonette which was waiting for us, and droveto Bainbridge's house. Mrs. Bainbridge came out to meet us, and was full of the tragedy. Twopretty girls also ran to greet their father, and to glance inquisitivelyat me. I could see that the entire family was in a state of muchexcitement. "Lucy Ray has just left, father, " said the elder of the girls. "We hadmuch trouble to soothe her; she is in a frantic state. " "You have heard, Mr. Bell, all about this dreadful mystery?" said Mrs. Bainbridge as she led me towards the dining-room. "Yes, " I answered; "your husband has been good enough to give me everyparticular. " "And you have really come here to help us?" "I hope I may be able to discover the cause, " I answered. "It certainly seems most extraordinary, " continued Mrs. Bainbridge. "Mydear, " she continued, turning to her husband, "you can easily imaginethe state we were all in this morning when the news of the second deathwas brought to us. " "For my part, " said Ella Bainbridge, "I am sure that Felwyn Tunnel ishaunted. The villagers have thought so for a long time, and this seconddeath seems to prove it, does it not?" Here she looked anxiously at me. "I can offer no opinion, " I replied, "until I have sifted the matterthoroughly. " "Come, Ella, don't worry Mr. Bell, " said her father; "if he is as hungryas I am, he must want his lunch. " We then seated ourselves at the table and commenced the meal. Bainbridge, although he professed to be hungry, was in such a state ofexcitement that he could scarcely eat. Immediately after lunch he leftme to the care of his family and went into the village. "It is just like him, " said Mrs. Bainbridge; "he takes these sort ofthings to heart dreadfully. He is terribly upset about Lucy Ray, andalso about the poor fellow Wynne. It is certainly a fearful tragedy fromfirst to last. " "Well, at any rate, " I said, "this fresh death will upset the evidenceagainst Wynne. " "I hope so, and there is some satisfaction in the fact. Well, Mr. Bell, I see you have finished lunch; will you come into the drawing-room?" I followed her into a pleasant room overlooking the valley of theLytton. By-and-by Bainbridge returned, and soon afterwards the dog-cart came tothe door. My host and I mounted, Bainbridge took the reins, and westarted off at a brisk pace. "Matters get worse and worse, " he said the moment we were alone. "If youdon't clear things up to-night, Bell, I say frankly that I cannotimagine what will happen. " We entered the village, and as we rattled down the ill-paved streets Iwas greeted with curious glances on all sides. The people were standingabout in groups, evidently talking about the tragedy and nothing else. Suddenly, as our trap bumped noisily over the paving-stones, a girldarted out of one of the houses and made frantic motions to Bainbridgeto stop the horse. He pulled the mare nearly up on her haunches, and thegirl came up to the side of the dog-cart. "You have heard it?" she said, speaking eagerly and in a gasping voice. "The death which occurred this morning will clear Stephen Wynne, won'tit, Mr. Bainbridge?--it will, you are sure, are you not?" "It looks like it, Lucy, my poor girl, " he answered. "But there, thewhole thing is so terrible that I scarcely know what to think. " She was a pretty girl with dark eyes, and under ordinary circumstancesmust have had the vivacious expression of face and the brilliantcomplexion which so many of her countrywomen possess. But now her eyeswere swollen with weeping and her complexion more or less disfigured bythe agony she had gone through. She looked piteously at Bainbridge, herlips trembling. The next moment she burst into tears. "Come away, Lucy, " said a woman who had followed her out of the cottage;"Fie--for shame! don't trouble the gentlemen; come back and stayquiet. " "I can't, mother, I can't, " said the unfortunate girl. "If they hanghim, I'll go clean off my head. Oh, Mr. Bainbridge, do say that thesecond death has cleared him!" "I have every hope that it will do so, Lucy, " said Bainbridge, "but nowdon't keep us, there's a good girl; go back into the house. Thisgentleman has come down from London on purpose to look into the wholematter. I may have good news for you in the morning. " The girl raised her eyes to my face with a look of intense pleading. "Oh, I have been cruel and a fool, and I deserve everything, " shegasped; "but, sir, for the love of Heaven, try to clear him. " I promised to do my best. Bainbridge touched up the mare, she bounded forward, and Lucydisappeared into the cottage with her mother. The next moment we drew up at the inn where the Inspector was waiting, and soon afterwards were bowling along between the high banks of thecountry lanes to the tunnel. It was a cold, still afternoon; the air waswonderfully keen, for a sharp frost had held the countryside in its gripfor the last two days. The sun was just tipping the hills to westwardwhen the trap pulled up at the top of the cutting. We hastily alighted, and the Inspector and I bade Bainbridge good-bye. He said that he onlywished that he could stay with us for the night, assured us that littlesleep would visit him, and that he would be back at the cutting at anearly hour on the following morning; then the noise of his horse's feetwas heard fainter and fainter as he drove back over the frost-boundroads. The Inspector and I ran along the little path to the wicket-gatein the fence, stamping our feet on the hard ground to restorecirculation after our cold drive. The next moment we were looking downupon the scene of the mysterious deaths, and a weird and lonely place itlooked. The tunnel was at one end of the rock cutting, the sides ofwhich ran sheer down to the line for over a hundred and fifty feet. Above the tunnel's mouth the hills rose one upon the other. A moredreary place it would have been difficult to imagine. From a littleclump of pines a delicate film of blue smoke rose straight up on thestill air. This came from the chimney of the signal-box. As we started to descend the precipitous path the Inspector sang out acheery "Hullo!" The man on duty in the box immediately answered. Hisvoice echoed and reverberated down the cutting, and the next moment heappeared at the door of the box. He told us that he would be with usimmediately; but we called back to him to stay where he was, and thenext instant the Inspector and I entered the box. "The first thing to do, " said Henderson the Inspector, "is to send amessage down the line to announce our arrival. " This he did, and in a few moments a crawling goods train came panting upthe cutting. After signalling her through we descended the wooden flightof steps which led from the box down to the line and walked along themetals towards the tunnel till we stood on the spot where poor Davidsonhad been found dead that morning. I examined the ground and all aroundit most carefully. Everything tallied exactly with the description I hadreceived. There could be no possible way of approaching the spot exceptby going along the line, as the rocky sides of the cutting wereinaccessible. "It is a most extraordinary thing, sir, " said the signalman whom we hadcome to relieve. "Davidson had neither mark nor sign on him--there helay stone dead and cold, and not a bruise nowhere; but Pritchard had anawful wound at the back of the head. They said he got it by climbing therocks--here, you can see the marks for yourself, sir. But now, is itlikely that Pritchard would try to climb rocks like these, so steep asthey are?" "Certainly not, " I replied. "Then how do you account for the wound, sir?" asked the man with ananxious face. "I cannot tell you at present, " I answered. "And you and Inspector Henderson are going to spend the night in thesignal-box?" "Yes. " A horrified expression crept over the signalman's face. "God preserve you both, " he said; "I wouldn't do it--not for fiftypounds. It's not the first time I have heard tell that Felwyn Tunnel ishaunted. But, there, I won't say any more about that. It's a blackbusiness, and has given trouble enough. There's poor Wynne, the samething as convicted of the murder of Pritchard; but now they say thatDavidson's death will clear him. Davidson was as good a fellow as youwould come across this side of the country; but for the matter of that, so was Pritchard. The whole thing is terrible--it upsets one, that itdo, sir. " "I don't wonder at your feelings, " I answered; "but now, see here, Iwant to make a most careful examination of everything. One of thetheories is that Wynne crept down this rocky side and fracturedPritchard's skull. I believe such a feat to be impossible. On examiningthese rocks I see that a man might climb up the side of the tunnel asfar as from eight to ten feet, utilising the sharp projections of rockfor the purpose; but it would be out of the question for any man to comedown the cutting. No; the only way Wynne could have approached Pritchardwas by the line itself. But, after all, the real thing to discover isthis, " I continued: "what killed Davidson? Whatever caused his death is, beyond doubt, equally responsible for Pritchard's. I am now going intothe tunnel. " Inspector Henderson went in with me. The place struck damp and chill. The walls were covered with green, evil-smelling fungi, and through thebrickwork the moisture was oozing and had trickled down in long lines tothe ground. Before us was nothing but dense darkness. When we re-appeared the signalman was lighting the red lamp on the post, which stood about five feet from the ground just above the entrance tothe tunnel. "Is there plenty of oil?" asked the Inspector. "Yes, sir, plenty, " replied the man. "Is there anything more I can dofor either of you gentlemen?" he asked, pausing, and evidently dying tobe off. "Nothing, " answered Henderson; "I will wish you good-evening. " "Good-evening to you both, " said the man. He made his way quickly up thepath and was soon lost to sight. Henderson and I then returned to the signal-box. By this time it was nearly dark. "How many trains pass in the night?" I asked of the Inspector. "There's the 10. 20 down express, " he said, "it will pass here at about10. 40; then there's the 11. 45 up, and then not another train till the6. 30 local to-morrow morning. We shan't have a very lively time, " headded. I approached the fire and bent over it, holding out my hands to try andget some warmth into them. "It will take a good deal to persuade me to go down to the tunnel, whatever I may see there, " said the man. "I don't think, Mr. Bell, I ama coward in any sense of the word, but there's something very uncannyabout this place, right away from the rest of the world. I don't wonderone often hears of signalmen going mad in some of these lonely boxes. Have you any theory to account for these deaths, sir?" "None at present, " I replied. "This second death puts the idea of Pritchard being murdered quite outof court, " he continued. "I am sure of it, " I answered. "And so am I, and that's one comfort, " continued Henderson. "That poorgirl, Lucy Ray, although she was to be blamed for her conduct, is muchto be pitied now; and as to poor Wynne himself, he protests hisinnocence through thick and thin. He was a wild fellow, but not the sortto take the life of a fellow-creature. I saw the doctor this afternoonwhile I was waiting for you at the inn, Mr. Bell, and also the policesergeant. They both say they do not know what Davidson died of. Therewas not the least sign of violence on the body. " "Well, I am as puzzled as the rest of you, " I said. "I have one or twotheories in my mind, but none of them will quite fit the situation. " The night was piercingly cold, and, although there was not a breath ofwind, the keen and frosty air penetrated into the lonely signal-box. Wespoke little, and both of us were doubtless absorbed by our own thoughtsand speculations. As to Henderson, he looked distinctly uncomfortable, and I cannot say that my own feelings were too pleasant. Never had Ibeen given a tougher problem to solve, and never had I been so utterlyat my wits' end for a solution. Now and then the Inspector got up and went to the telegraph instrument, which intermittently clicked away in its box. As he did so he made somecasual remark and then sat down again. After the 10. 40 had gone through, there followed a period of silence which seemed almost oppressive. Allat once the stillness was broken by the whirr of the electric bell, which sounded so sharply in our ears that we both started. Hendersonrose. "That's the 11. 45 coming, " he said, and, going over to the three longlevers, he pulled two of them down with a loud clang. The next moment, with a rush and a scream, the express tore down the cutting, thecarriage lights streamed past in a rapid flash, the ground trembled, afew sparks from the engine whirled up into the darkness, and the trainplunged into the tunnel. "And now, " said Henderson, as he pushed back the levers, "not anothertrain till daylight. My word, it is cold!" It was intensely so. I piled some more wood on the fire and, turning upthe collar of my heavy ulster, sat down at one end of the bench andleant my back against the wall. Henderson did likewise; we were neitherof us inclined to speak. As a rule, whenever I have any night work todo, I am never troubled with sleepiness, but on this occasion I feltunaccountably drowsy. I soon perceived that Henderson was in the samecondition. "Are you sleepy?" I asked of him. "Dead with it, sir, " was his answer; "but there's no fear, I won't dropoff. " I got up and went to the window of the box. I felt certain that if I satstill any longer I should be in a sound sleep. This would never do. Already it was becoming a matter of torture to keep my eyes open. Ibegan to pace up and down; I opened the door of the box and went out onthe little platform. "What's the matter, sir?" inquired Henderson, jumping up with a start. "I cannot keep awake, " I said. "Nor can I, " he answered, "and yet I have spent nights and nights of mylife in signal-boxes and never was the least bit drowsy; perhaps it'sthe cold. " "Perhaps it is, " I said; "but I have been out on as freezing nightsbefore, and----" The man did not reply; he had sat down again; his head was nodding. I was just about to go up to him and shake him, when it suddenlyoccurred to me that I might as well let him have his sleep out. I soonheard him snoring, and he presently fell forward in a heap on the floor. By dint of walking up and down, I managed to keep from dropping offmyself, and in torture which I shall never be able to describe, thenight wore itself away. At last, towards morning, I awoke Henderson. "You have had a good nap, " I said; "but never mind, I have been on guardand nothing has occurred. " "Good God! have I been asleep?" cried the man. "Sound, " I answered. "Well, I never felt anything like it, " he replied. "Don't you find theair very close, sir?" "No, " I said; "it is as fresh as possible; it must be the cold. " "I'll just go and have a look at the light at the tunnel, " said the man;"it will rouse me. " He went on to the little platform, whilst I bent over the fire and beganto build it up. Presently he returned with a scared look on his face. Icould see by the light of the oil lamp which hung on the wall that hewas trembling. "Mr. Bell, " he said, "I believe there is somebody or something down atthe mouth of the tunnel now. " As he spoke he clutched me by the arm. "Goand look, " he said; "whoever it is, it has put out the light. " "Put out the light?" I cried. "Why, what's the time?" Henderson pulled out his watch. "Thank goodness, most of the night is gone, " he said; "I didn't know itwas so late, it is half-past five. " "Then the local is not due for an hour yet?" I said. "No; but who should put out the light?" cried Henderson. I went to the door, flung it open, and looked out. The dim outline ofthe tunnel was just visible looming through the darkness, but the redlight was out. "What the dickens does it mean, sir?" gasped the Inspector. "I know thelamp had plenty of oil in it. Can there be any one standing in front ofit, do you think?" We waited and watched for a few moments, but nothing stirred. "Come along, " I said, "let us go down together and see what it is. " "I don't believe I can do it, sir; I really don't!" "Nonsense, " I cried. "I shall go down alone if you won't accompany me. Just hand me my stick, will you?" "For God's sake, be careful, Mr. Bell. Don't go down, whatever you do. Iexpect this is what happened before, and the poor fellows went down tosee what it was and died there. There's some devilry at work, that's mybelief. " "That is as it may be, " I answered shortly; "but we certainly shall notfind out by stopping here. My business is to get to the bottom of this, and I am going to do it. That there is danger of some sort, I have verylittle doubt; but danger or not, I am going down. " "If you'll be warned by me, sir, you'll just stay quietly here. " "I must go down and see the matter out, " was my answer. "Now listen tome, Henderson. I see that you are alarmed, and I don't wonder. Just stayquietly where you are and watch, but if I call come at once. Don't delaya single instant. Remember I am putting my life into your hands. If Icall 'Come, ' just come to me as quick as you can, for I may want help. Give me that lantern. " He unhitched it from the wall, and taking it from him, I walkedcautiously down the steps on to the line. I still felt curiously, unaccountably drowsy and heavy. I wondered at this, for the moment wassuch a critical one as to make almost any man wide awake. Holding thelamp high above my head, I walked rapidly along the line. I hardly knewwhat I expected to find. Cautiously along the metals I made my way, peering right and left until I was close to the fatal spot where thebodies had been found. An uncontrollable shudder passed over me. Thenext moment, to my horror, without the slightest warning, the light Iwas carrying went out, leaving me in total darkness. I started back, andstumbling against one of the loose boulders reeled against the wall andnearly fell. What was the matter with me? I could hardly stand. I feltgiddy and faint, and a horrible sensation of great tightness seized meacross the chest. A loud ringing noise sounded in my ears. Strugglingmadly for breath, and with the fear of impending death upon me, I turnedand tried to run from a danger I could neither understand nor grapplewith. But before I had taken two steps my legs gave way from under me, and uttering a loud cry I fell insensible to the ground. * * * * * Out of an oblivion which, for all I knew, might have lasted for momentsor centuries, a dawning consciousness came to me. I knew that I waslying on hard ground; that I was absolutely incapable of realising, norhad I the slightest inclination to discover, where I was. All I wantedwas to lie quite still and undisturbed. Presently I opened my eyes. Some one was bending over me and looking into my face. "Thank God, he is not dead, " I heard in whispered tones. Then, with aflash, memory returned to me. "What has happened?" I asked. "You may well ask that, sir, " said the Inspector gravely. "It has beentouch and go with you for the last quarter of an hour; and a near thingfor me too. " I sat up and looked around me. Daylight was just beginning to break, andI saw that we were at the bottom of the steps that led up to thesignal-box. My teeth were chattering with the cold and I was shiveringlike a man with ague. "I am better now, " I said; "just give me your hand. " I took his arm, and holding the rail with the other hand staggered upinto the box and sat down on the bench. "Yes, it has been a near shave, " I said; "and a big price to pay forsolving a mystery. " "Do you mean to say you know what it is?" asked Henderson eagerly. "Yes, " I answered, "I think I know now; but first tell me how long was Iunconscious?" "A good bit over half an hour, sir, I should think. As soon as I heardyou call out I ran down as you told me, but before I got to you I nearlyfainted. I never had such a horrible sensation in my life. I felt asweak as a baby, but I just managed to seize you by the arms and drag youalong the line to the steps, and that was about all I could do. " "Well, I owe you my life, " I said; "just hand me that brandy flask, Ishall be the better for some of its contents. " I took a long pull. Just as I was laying the flask down Hendersonstarted from my side. "There, " he cried, "the 6. 30 is coming. " The electric bell at theinstrument suddenly began to ring. "Ought I to let her go through, sir?"he inquired. "Certainly, " I answered. "That is exactly what we want. Oh, she will beall right. " "No danger to her, sir?" "None, none; let her go through. " He pulled the lever and the next moment the train tore through thecutting. "Now I think it will be safe to go down again, " I said. "I believe Ishall be able to get to the bottom of this business. " Henderson stared at me aghast. "Do you mean that you are going down again to the tunnel?" he gasped. "Yes, " I said; "give me those matches. You had better come too. I don'tthink there will be much danger now; and there is daylight, so we cansee what we are about. " The man was very loth to obey me, but at last I managed to persuade him. We went down the line, walking slowly, and at this moment we both feltour courage revived by a broad and cheerful ray of sunshine. "We must advance cautiously, " I said, "and be ready to run back at amoment's notice. " "God knows, sir, I think we are running a great risk, " panted poorHenderson; "and if that devil or whatever else it is should happen to beabout--why, daylight or no daylight----" "Nonsense! man, " I interrupted; "if we are careful, no harm will happento us now. Ah! and here we are!" We had reached the spot where I hadfallen. "Just give me a match, Henderson. " He did so, and I immediately lit the lamp. Opening the glass of thelamp, I held it close to the ground and passed it to and fro. Suddenlythe flame went out. "Don't you understand now?" I said, looking up at the Inspector. "No, I don't, sir, " he replied with a bewildered expression. Suddenly, before I could make an explanation, we both heard shouts fromthe top of the cutting, and looking up I saw Bainbridge hurrying downthe path. He had come in the dog-cart to fetch us. "Here's the mystery, " I cried as he rushed up to us, "and a deadlierscheme of Dame Nature's to frighten and murder poor humanity I havenever seen. " As I spoke I lit the lamp again and held it just above a tiny fissure inthe rock. It was at once extinguished. "What is it?" said Bainbridge, panting with excitement. "Something that nearly finished _me_, " I replied. "Why, this is anatural escape of choke damp. Carbonic acid gas--the deadliest gasimaginable, because it gives no warning of its presence, and it has nosmell. It must have collected here during the hours of the night when notrain was passing, and gradually rising put out the signal light. Theconstant rushing of the trains through the cutting all day wouldtemporarily disperse it. " As I made this explanation Bainbridge stood like one electrified, whilea curious expression of mingled relief and horror swept over Henderson'sface. "An escape of carbonic acid gas is not an uncommon phenomenon involcanic districts, " I continued, "as I take this to be; but it is oddwhat should have started it. It has sometimes been known to followearthquake shocks, when there is a profound disturbance of the deepstrata. " "It is strange that you should have said that, " said Bainbridge, when hecould find his voice. "What do you mean?" "Why, that about the earthquake. Don't you remember, Henderson, " headded, turning to the Inspector, "we had felt a slight shock all overSouth Wales about three weeks back?" "Then that, I think, explains it, " I said. "It is evident that Pritchardreally did climb the rocks in a frantic attempt to escape from the gasand fell back on to these boulders. The other man was cut down at once, before he had time to fly. " "But what is to happen now?" asked Bainbridge. "Will it go on for ever?How are we to stop it?" "The fissure ought to be drenched with lime water, and then filled up;but all really depends on what is the size of the supply and also thedepth. It is an extremely heavy gas, and would lie at the bottom of acutting like water. I think there is more here just now than is good forus, " I added. "But how, " continued Bainbridge, as we moved a few steps from the fatalspot, "do you account for the interval between the first death and thesecond?" "The escape must have been intermittent. If wind blew down the cutting, as probably was the case before this frost set in, it would keep the gasso diluted that its effects would not be noticed. There was enough downhere this morning, before that train came through, to poison an army. Indeed, if it had not been for Henderson's promptitude, there would havebeen another inquest--on myself. " I then related my own experience. "Well, this clears Wynne, without doubt, " said Bainbridge; "but alas!for the two poor fellows who were victims. Bell, the Lytton ValeRailway Company owe you unlimited thanks; you have doubtless saved manylives, and also the Company, for the line must have been closed if youhad not made your valuable discovery. But now come home with me tobreakfast. We can discuss all those matters later on. " IV THE EIGHT-MILE LOCK It was in the August of 1889, when I was just arranging my annualholiday, that I received the following letter. I tore it open andread:-- "_Theodora_ House-boat, Goring. "Dear Mr. Bell, -- "Can you come down on Wednesday and stay with us for a week? The weather is glorious and the river looking its best. We are a gay party, and there will be plenty of fun going on. "Yours very truly, "Helena Ridsdale. " This was exactly what I wanted. I was fond of the river, and scarcely asummer passed that I did not spend at least a fortnight on the Thames. I could go for a week to the Ridsdales, and then start off on my ownquiet holiday afterwards. I had known Lady Ridsdale since she was agirl, and I had no doubt my visit would prove a most enjoyable one. Ireplied immediately, accepting the invitation, and three days laterarrived at Goring. As the well-cushioned little punt, which had been sent to bring meacross the river, drew up alongside the _Theodora_, the Countess camedown from the deck to welcome me. "I am so glad you could come, Mr. Bell, " she said. "I was afraid youmight be away on some of your extraordinary campaigns against thesupernatural. This is Mr. Ralph Vyner; he is also, like yourself, devoted to science. I am sure you will find many interests in common. " A short, thickset, wiry little man, dressed in white flannels, who hadbeen lolling in a deck chair, now came forward and shook hands with me. "I know of you by reputation, Mr. Bell, " he said, "and I have oftenhoped to have the pleasure of meeting you. I am sure we shall all beanxious to hear of some of your experiences. We are such an excessivelyfrivolous party that we can easily afford to be leavened with a littleserious element. " "But I don't mean to be serious in the least, " I answered, laughing; "Ihave come here to enjoy myself, and intend to be as frivolous as therest of you. " "You will have an opportunity this evening, " said the Countess; "we aregoing to have a special band from town, and intend to have a moonlightdance on deck. Ah! here comes Charlie with the others, " she added, shading her eyes and looking down the stream. In a few moments a perfectly appointed little electric launch shot up, and my host with the rest of the party came on board. We shortlyafterwards sat down to lunch, and a gayer and pleasanter set of people Ihave seldom met. In the afternoon we broke up into detachments, andVyner and I went for a long pull up stream. I found him a pleasantfellow, ready to talk at any length not only about his own hobbies, butabout the world at large. I discovered presently that he was a navalengineer of no small attainments. When we returned to the house-boat, it was nearly time to prepare fordinner. Most of the ladies had already retired to their cabins. LadyRidsdale was standing alone on deck. When she saw us both, she called tous to come to her side. "This quite dazzles me, " she said in a low, somewhat mysterious tone, "and I must show it to you. I know you at least, Mr. Vyner, willappreciate it. " As she spoke she took a small leather case out of her pocket--it wasornamented with a monogram, and opened with a catch. She pressed thelid, it flew up, and I saw, resting on a velvet bed, a glitteringcirclet of enormous diamonds. The Countess lifted them out, and slippedthem over her slender wrist. "They are some of the family diamonds, " she said with excitement, "andof great value. Charlie is having all the jewels reset for me, but therest are not ready yet. He has just brought this down from town. Is itnot superb? Did you ever see such beauties?" The diamonds flashed on her white wrist; she looked up at me with eyesalmost as bright. "I love beautiful stones, " she said, "and I feel as if these were alive. Oh, do look at the rays of colour in them, as many as in the rainbow. " I congratulated Lady Ridsdale on possessing such a splendid ornament, and then glanced at Vyner, expecting him to say something. The expression on his face startled me, and I was destined to rememberit by-and-by. The ruddy look had completely left it, his eyes were halfstarting from his head. He peered close, and suddenly, without theslightest warning, stretched out his hand, and touched the diamonds asthey glittered round Lady Ridsdale's wrist. She started back haughtily, then, recovering herself, took the bracelet off and put it into hishand. "Charlie tells me, " she said, "that this bracelet is worth from fifteento twenty thousand pounds. " "You must take care of it, " remarked Vyner; "don't let your maid see it, for instance. " "Oh, nonsense!" laughed Lady Ridsdale. "I would trust Louise as I wouldtrust myself. " Soon afterwards we separated, and I went down to my little cabin toprepare for dinner. When we met in the dining saloon I noticed that LadyRidsdale was wearing the diamond bracelet. Almost immediately afterdinner the band came on board and the dancing began. We kept up our festivities until two o'clock, and more than once, as sheflashed past me, I could not help noticing the glittering circlet roundher wrist. I considered myself a fair judge of precious stones, but hadnever seen any diamonds for size and brilliancy to equal these. As Vyner and I happened to stand apart from the others he remarked uponthem. "It was imprudent of Ridsdale to bring those diamonds here, " he said. "Suppose they are stolen?" "Scarcely likely, " I answered; "there are no thieves on board. " He gave an impatient movement. "As far as we _know_ there are not, " he said slowly, "but one can nevertell. The diamonds are of exceptional value, and it is not safe toexpose ordinary folk to temptation. That small circlet means a fortune. " He sighed deeply, and when I spoke to him next did not answer me. Notlong afterwards our gay party dispersed, and we retired to ourrespective cabins. I went to mine and was quickly in bed. As a newly-arrived guest I wasgiven a cabin on board, but several other members of the party weresleeping in tents on the shore. Vyner and Lord Ridsdale were amongstthe latter number. Whether it was the narrowness of my bunk or the heatof the night, I cannot tell, but sleep I could not. Suddenly through myopen window I heard voices from the shore near by. I could identify thespeakers by their tones--one was my host, Lord Ridsdale, the other RalphVyner. Whatever formed the subject of discourse it was evidently farfrom amicable. However much averse I might feel to the situation, I wascompelled to be an unwilling eavesdropper, for the voices rose, and Icaught the following words from Vyner: "Can you lend me five thousand pounds till the winter?" "No, Vyner, I have told you so before, and the reason too. It is yourown fault, and you must take the consequences. " "Do you mean that to be final?" asked Vyner. "Yes. " "Very well, then I shall look after myself. Thank God, I have got brainsif I have not money, and I shall not let the means interfere with theend. " "You can go to the devil for all I care, " was the angry answer, "and, after what I know, I won't raise a finger to help you. " The speakers had evidently moved further off, for the last words I couldnot catch. But what little I heard by no means conduced to slumber. SoVyner, for all his jovial and easy manner, was in a fix for money, andRidsdale knew something about him scarcely to his credit! I kept thinking over this, and also recalling his words when he spoke ofLady Ridsdale's diamonds as representing a fortune. What did he mean bysaying that he would not let the means interfere with the end? Thatbrief sentence sounded very much like the outburst of a desperate man. Icould not help heartily wishing that Lady Ridsdale's diamond circlet wasback in London, and, just before I dropped to sleep, I made up my mindto speak to Ridsdale on the subject. Towards morning I did doze off, but I was awakened by hearing my namecalled, and, starting up, I saw Ridsdale standing by my side. His facelooked queer and excited. "Wake up, Bell, " he cried; "a terrible thing has happened. " "What is it?" I asked. "My wife's bracelet is stolen. " Like a flash I thought of Vyner, and then as quickly I knew that I mustbe careful to give no voice to hastily-formed suspicions. "I won't be a moment dressing, and then I'll join you, " I said. Ridsdale nodded and left my cabin. In five minutes I was with him on deck. He then told me briefly what hadhappened. "Helena most imprudently left the case on her dressing-table lastnight, " he said, "and owing to the heat she kept the window open. Someone must have waded into the water in the dark and stolen it. Perhapsone of the bandsmen may have noticed the flashing of the diamonds onher wrist and returned to secure the bracelet--there's no saying. Theonly too palpable fact is that it is gone--it was valued at twentythousand pounds!" "Have you sent for the police?" I asked. "Yes, and have also wired to Scotland Yard for one of their bestdetectives. Vyner took the telegram for me, and was to call at thepolice station on his way back. He is nearly as much upset as I am. Thisis a terrible loss. I feel fit to kill myself for my folly in bringingthat valuable bracelet on board a house-boat. " "It was a little imprudent, " I answered, "but you are sure to get itback. " "I hope so, " he replied moodily. Just then the punt with Vyner and a couple of policemen on board wasseen rapidly approaching. Ridsdale went to meet them, and was soon inearnest conversation with the superintendent of police. The moment Vynerleapt on board he came to the part of the deck where I was standing. "Ah, Bell, " he cried, "what about my prognostications of last night?" "They have been verified too soon, " I answered. I gave him a quickglance. His eyes looked straight into mine. "Have you any theory to account for the theft?" I asked. "Yes, a very simple one. Owing to the heat of the evening the Countessslept with her window open. It was an easy matter to wade through thewater, introduce a hand through the open window and purloin thediamonds. " "Without being seen by any occupants of the tents?" I queried. "Certainly, " he answered, speaking slowly and with thought. "Then you believe the thief came from without?" "I do. " "What about your warning to Lady Ridsdale yesterday evening not to trusther maid?" I saw his eyes flash. It was the briefest of summer lightning thatplayed in their depths. I knew that he longed to adopt the suggestionthat I had on purpose thrown out, but dared not. That one look wasenough for me. I had guessed his secret. Before he could reply to my last remark Lord Ridsdale came up. "What is to be done?" he said; "the police superintendent insists on ourall, without respect of persons, being searched. " "There is nothing in that, " I said; "it is the usual thing. I will bethe first to submit to the examination. " The police went through their work thoroughly, and, of course, cameacross neither clue nor diamonds. We presently sat down to breakfast, but I don't think we any of us had much appetite. Lady Ridsdale's eyeswere red with crying, and I could see that the loss had shaken both hernerve and fortitude. It was more or less of a relief when the post camein. Amongst the letters I found a telegram for myself. I knew what itmeant before I opened it. It was from a man in a distant part of thecountry whom I had promised to assist in a matter of grave importance. I saw that it was necessary for me to return to town without delay. Iwas very loth to leave my host and hostess in their present dilemma, butthere was no help for it, and soon after breakfast I took my leave. Ridsdale promised to write me if there was any news of the diamonds, andsoon the circumstance passed more or less into the background of mybrain, owing to the intense interest of the other matter which I hadtaken up. My work in the north was over, and I had returned to town, when I received a letter from Ridsdale. "We are in a state of despair, " he wrote; "we have had two detectives onboard, and the police have moved heaven and earth to try and discoverthe bracelet--all in vain; not the slightest clue has been forthcoming. No one has worked harder for us than Vyner. He has a small place of hisown further down the river, and comes up to see us almost daily. He hasmade all sorts of suggestions for the recovery of the diamonds, buthitherto they have led to nothing. In short, our one hope now turns uponyou, Bell; you have done as difficult things as this before. Will youcome and see us, and give us the benefit of your advice? If any man cansolve this mystery, you are the person. " I wrote immediately to say that I would return to the _Theodora_ on thefollowing evening, and for the remainder of that day tried to the bestof my ability to think out this most difficult problem. I felt morallycertain that I could put my hand on the thief, but I had no real clue towork upon--nothing beyond a nameless suspicion. Strange as it may seem, I was moved by sentiment. I had spent some pleasant hours in Vyner'ssociety--I had enjoyed his conversation; I had liked the man forhimself. He had abilities above the average, of that I was certain--ifhe were proved guilty, I did not want to be the one to bring his crimehome to him. So uncomfortable were my feelings that at last I made up mymind to take a somewhat bold step. This was neither more nor less thanto go to see Vyner himself before visiting the house-boat. What I was todo and say when I got to him I was obliged to leave altogether tochance; but I had a feeling almost amounting to a certainty that bymeans of this visit I should ultimately return the bracelet to myfriends the Ridsdales. The next afternoon I found myself rowing slowly down the river, thinkingwhat the issue of my visit to Vyner would be. It happened to be aperfect evening. The sun had just set. The long reach of river stretchedaway to the distant bend, where, through the gathering twilight, I couldjust see the white gates of the Eight-Mile Lock. Raising my voice, Isang out in a long-drawn, sonorous monotone the familiar cry of "Lock!lock! lock!" and, bending to the sculls, sent my little skiff flyingdown stream. The sturdy figure of old James Pegg, the lock-keeper, whomI had known for many years, instantly appeared on the bridge. One of thegreat gates slowly swung open, and, shipping my sculls, I shot in, andcalled out a cheery good-evening to my old friend. "Mr. Bell!" exclaimed the old fellow, hurrying along the edge of thelock. "Well, I never! I did not see it was you at first, and yet I oughtto have known that long, swinging stroke of yours. You are the lastperson I expected to see. I was half afraid it might be some one else, although I don't know that I was expecting any one in particular. Excuseme, sir, but was it you called out 'Lock' just now?" "Of course it was, " I answered, laughing. "I'm in the deuce of a hurryto-night, Jimmy, as I want to get on to Wotton before dark. Look sharp, will you, and let me down. " "All right, sir--but you did frighten me just now. I wish you hadn'tcalled out like that!" As I glanced up at him, I was surprised to see that his usually ruddy, round face was as white as a sheet, and he was breathing quickly. "Why, what on earth is the matter, Jimmy?" I cried; "how can I havefrightened you?" "Oh, it's nothing, sir; I suppose I'm an old fool, " he faltered, smiling. "I don't know what's the matter with me, sir--I'm all of atremble. The fact is, something happened here last night, and I don'tseem to have got over it. You know, I am all by myself here now, sir, and a lonely place it is. " "Something happened?" I said; "not an accident, I hope?" "No, sir, no accident that I know of, and yet I have been half expectingone to occur all day, and I have been that weak I could hardly wind upthe sluices. I am getting old now, and I'm not the man I was; but I'mright glad to see you, Mr. Bell, that I am. " He kept pausing as he spoke, and now and then glanced up the river, asif expecting to see a boat coming round the bend every moment. I wasmuch puzzled by his extraordinary manner. I knew him to be a steady man, and one whose services were much valued by the Conservancy; but itneeded only a glance now to show that there was something very muchamiss with him. The darkness was increasing every moment, and, being anxious to get onas soon as possible, I was just going to tell him again to hurry up withthe sluices, when he bent down close to me, and said, -- "Would you mind stepping out for a moment, sir, if you can spare thetime? I wish to speak to you, sir. I'd be most grateful if you wouldwait a minute or two. " "Certainly, Jimmy, " I answered, hauling myself to the side with theboat-hook, and getting out. "Is there anything I can do for you? I amafraid you are not well. I never saw you like this before. " "No, sir; and I never felt like it before, that I can remember. Something happened here last night that has taken all the nerve out ofme, and I want to tell you what it was. I know you are so clever, Mr. Bell, and I have heard about your doings up at Wallinghurst last autumn, when you cleared up the Manor House ghost, and got old Monkford sixmonths. " "Well, fire away, " I said, filling my pipe, and wondering what wascoming. "It is this way, sir, " he began. "Last night after I had had my supper Ithought I'd like a stroll and a quiet smoke along the towing path beforeturning in. I did not expect any more boats, as it was getting on forten o'clock. I walked about three-quarters of a mile, and was just goingto turn round, when I saw a light down on the surface of the water inmid-stream. It was pretty dark, for the moon was not up yet, and therewas a thick white mist rising from the water. I thought it must be someone in a canoe at first, so I waited a bit and watched. Then it suddenlydisappeared, and the next instant I saw it again about a hundred yardsor so higher up the stream, but only for a second, and then it went out. It fairly puzzled me to know what it could be, as I had never seenanything like it before. I felt sure it wasn't any sort of craft, but Ihad heard of strange lights being seen at times on the water--what theycall jack-o'-lanterns, I believe, sir. I reckoned it might be one ofthem, but I thought I'd get back to the lock, so that, if it was acanoe, I could let it through. However, nothing came of it, and I waitedand watched, and worried all the evening about it, but couldn't come toany sort of idea, so I went to bed. Well, about one o'clock this morningI suddenly woke up and thought I could hear some one a long way offcalling exactly as you did just now, 'Lock! lock! lock!' but it soundedever so far away. "'It's some of those theatre people coming back to the _Will-o'-the-Wisp_house-boat, ' I said to myself, 'and I'm not going to turn out for them. 'The lock was full at the time, so I thought I would just let them workit for themselves. I waited a bit, expecting to hear them every minutecome up, singing and swearing as they do, but they never came, and I wasjust dropping off when I heard the call again. It was not an ordinarysort of voice, but a long, wailing cry, just as if some one was introuble or drowning. 'Hi! hi! Lock! lo-oock!' it went. "I got up then and went out. The moon was up now and quite bright, andthe mist had cleared off, so I went to the bridge on the upper gates andlooked up stream. This is where I was standing, sir, just as we arestanding now. I could see right up to the bend, and there was not thesign of a boat. I stood straining my eyes, expecting to see a boat comeround every moment, when I heard the cry again, and this time it soundednot fifty yards up stream. I could not make it out at all, so I shoutedout as loud as I could, 'Who are you? What's the matter?' but there wasno answer; and then suddenly, the next instant, close below me, from_inside_ the lock this time, just here, came a shout, piercing, shrill, and loud, 'Open the lock, quick, quick! Open the lock!' "I tell you, sir, my heart seemed to stand dead still, and I nearly fellback over the bridge. I wheeled round sharp, but there was nothing inthe lock, that I'll swear to my dying day--for I could see all over it, and nothing could have got in there without passing me. The moon wasquite bright, and I could see all round it. Without knowing what I wasdoing, I rushed down like mad to the lower gates, and began to wind upone of the sluices, and then I stood there and waited, but nothing came. As the lock emptied I looked down, but there was no sign of anythinganywhere, so I let down the sluice without opening the gates, and thenfilled up the lock again. I stood by the post, hardly daring to move, when, about half-past five, thank God, I heard the whistle of a tug, and, after seeing her through, it was broad daylight. "That's the whole story, sir, and how I'm going to live through thenight again I don't know. It was a spirit if ever there was one in theworld. It's a warning to me, sir; and what's going to happen I don'tknow. " "Well, Jimmy, " I answered, "it certainly is a most extraordinary story, and if I didn't know you as well as I do, I should say you had takensomething more than a smoke before you turned in last night. " "I never touch a drop, sir, except when I go into Farley and have aglass of beer, but I have not been there for more than a week now. " I confess that Jimmy's story had left a most unpleasant impression onme. I had little doubt that the whole thing was some strange subjectivehallucination, but for a weird and ghostly experience it certainly beatmost of the tales I had ever heard. I thought for a moment--it was nowquite dark, and I felt little inclined to go on to Wotton. My keenestinterests were awakened. "Look here, " I said, "what do you say if I stay here to-night? Can yougive me a shake-down of any sort?" "That I will, sir, and right gladly, and thank God if you will but staywith me. If I was alone here again, and heard that voice, I believe itwould kill me. I'll tie up your boat outside, and bring your things in, and then we'll have supper. I'll feel a new man with you staying here, sir. " In a few minutes we were both inside old Jimmy's cosy quarters. Hiswhole bearing seemed to have changed suddenly, and he ran about withalacrity, getting supper ready, and seeming quite like himself again. During the whole evening he kept harping at intervals on the subject ofthe mysterious voice, but we heard no sound whatever, and I felt moreand more certain that the whole thing was due to hallucination on thepart of the old man. At eleven o'clock a skiff came up through the lock, and almost immediately afterwards I bade Jimmy good-night and went intothe little room he had prepared for me. I went quickly to bed, and, tired after my long pull, despite theoriginality of the situation, fell fast asleep. Suddenly I awoke--someone was bending over me and calling me by my name. I leapt up, and, notrealising where I was for the moment, but with a sort of dim idea that Iwas engaged in some exposure, instinctively seized the man roughly bythe throat. In a moment I remembered everything, and quickly released mygrip of poor old Jimmy, who was gurgling and gasping with horror. Iburst out laughing at my mistake, and begged his pardon for treating himso roughly. "It is all right, sir, " he panted. "I hope I didn't frighten you, but Ihave heard it again, not five minutes ago. " "The deuce you have, " I said, striking a match and looking at my watch. It was nearly two o'clock, and before the minute was up I hearddistinctly a cry, as if from some great distance, of "Lock, lock, lock!"and then all was silence again. "Did you hear it, sir?" whispered the old man, clutching me by the armwith a trembling hand. "Yes, I heard it, " I said. "Don't you be frightened, Jimmy; just waittill I get my clothes on; I am going to see this thing through. " "Be careful, sir; for God's sake, be careful, " he whispered. "All right, " I said, slipping on some things. "Just get me a goodstrong boat-hook, and don't make too much noise. If this mystery isflesh and blood I'll get to the bottom of it somehow. You stay here; andif I call, come out. " I took the thick, short boat-hook which he had brought me and, softlyunlatching the door, went out. The moon was now riding high overhead and casting black fantasticshadows across the little white cottage. All my senses were on thekeenest alert, my ears were pricked up for the slightest sound. I creptsoftly to the bridge on the upper gate which was open. I looked upstream and thought I could see some little ripples on the surface of thewater as if a swift boat had just passed down, but there was no sign ofany craft whatever to be seen. It was intensely still, and no soundbroke the silence save the intermittent croaking of some bull-frogs inthe dark shadows of the pollards on the further bank. Behind me couldalso be heard the gurgling twinkle of the overflow through the chinks ofthe lower gate. I stood quite still, gripping the boat-hook in my hand, and lookingright and left, straining my eyes for the slightest movement of anythingaround, when suddenly, close below me from the water, inside the lock, came a loud cry-- "Open the lock, for God's sake, open the lock!" I started back, feeling my hair rise and stiffen. The sound echoed andreverberated through the silent night, and then died away; but before ithad done so I had sprung to the great beam and closed the upper gate. AsI did so I caught sight of the old man trembling and shaking at the doorof the cottage. I called to him to go and watch the upper gate, and, racing down to the lower ones, wound up one of the sluices with a fewpulls, so as to let out the water with as little escape room aspossible. I knew by this means if there were any creature of tangibleform in the water we must find it when the lock was emptied, as itsescape was cut off. [Illustration: "Struck it a terrific blow with the boat-hook. "A Master of Mysteries. --Page 167] Each of the following minutes seemed stretched into a lifetime as, witheyes riveted on the dark water in the lock, I watched its gradualdescent. I hardly dared to think of what I expected to see rise to thesurface any moment. Would the lock never empty? Down, down sank thelevel, and still I saw nothing. A long, misshapen arm of black cloud wasslowly stretching itself across the moon. Hark! there was something moving about down in the well of darknessbelow me, and as I stood and watched I saw that the water was uncoveringa long, black mass and that something ran slowly out of the water andbegan to clamber up the slimy, slippery beams. What in the name ofheaven could it be? By the uncertain light I could only see its dimoutline; it seemed to have an enormous bulbous head and dripping, glistening body. The sound of a rapid patter up the tow-path told methat the old man had seen it and was running for his life. I rushed down to where the thing was, and as its great head appearedabove the edge, with all my force struck it a terrific blow with theboat-hook. The weapon flew into splinters in my hand, and the nextmoment the creature had leapt up beside me and dashed me to the groundwith almost superhuman force. I was up and on to it again in a second, and as I caught and closed with it saw that I had at least to deal witha human being, and that what he lacked in stature he more than made upfor in strength. The struggle that ensued was desperate and furious. Thecovering to his head that had splintered the boat-hook was, I saw, asort of helmet, completely protecting the head from any blow, and thebody was cased in a slippery, closely fitting garment that kept eludingmy grasp. To and fro we swayed and wrestled, and for a moment I thoughtI had met my match till, suddenly freeing my right arm, I got in asmashing blow in the region of the heart. The creature uttered a cry ofpain and fell headlong to the ground. Old Jimmy Pegg had hurried back as soon as he heard our struggles andknew that he was not dealing with a being of another world. He ran upeagerly to me. "Here's your ghost, you old coward!" I panted; "he has got the hardestbone and muscle I ever felt in a ghost yet. I am not used to fightingmen in helmets, and he is as slippery as an eel, but I hope to goodnessI have not done more than knock the wind out of him. He is a specimen Ishould rather like to take alive. Catch hold of his feet and we'll gethim inside and see who he is. " Between us we carried the prostrate figure inside the cottage and laidhim down like a log on the floor. He never moved nor uttered a sound, and I was afraid at first that I had finished him for good and all. Inext knelt down and proceeded to unfasten the helmet, which, from itsappearance, was something like the kind used by divers, while the oldman brought the lantern close to his face. At the first glance I knew inan instant that I had seen the face before, and the next secondrecognised, to my utter astonishment and horror, that it belonged toRalph Vyner. For the moment I was completely dumbfounded, and gazed at the manwithout speaking. It was obvious that he had only fainted from the blow, for I could see that he was breathing, and in a few minutes he openedhis eyes and fixed them on me with a dull and vacant stare. Then heseemed to recall the situation, though he evidently did not recogniseme. "Let me go, " he cried, making an effort to rise. "My God! you havekilled me. " He pressed his hand to his side and fell back again: hisface was contorted as if in great pain. There was obviously only one thing to be done, and that was to send formedical assistance at once. It was clear that the man was badly injured, but to what extent I could not determine. It was impossible to extractthe slightest further communication from him--he lay quite still, groaning from time to time. I told Jimmy to go off at once to Farley and bring the doctor. Iscribbled a few directions on a piece of paper. The old man hurried out of the cottage, but in less than a minute hewas back again in great excitement. "Look here, sir, what I have just picked up, " he said; "it's somethinghe has dropped, I reckon. " As Jimmy spoke he held out a square leather case: there was a monogramon it. I took it in my hand and pressed the lid; it flew open, andinside, resting on its velvet bed, lay the glittering circlet ofdiamonds. I held Lady Ridsdale's lost bracelet in my hand. All mysuspicions were confirmed: Vyner was the thief. Without saying a word I shut the box and despatched the old man at oncefor the doctor, bidding him go as fast as he could. Then I sat down bythe prostrate man and waited. I knew that Jimmy could not be back for atleast two hours. The grey dawn was beginning to steal in through thelittle latticed window when Vyner moved, opened his eyes and looked atme. He started as his eyes fell on the case. "You are Mr. Bell, " he said slowly. "Ridsdale told me that you werecoming to the _Theodora_ on purpose to discover the mystery of the lostdiamonds. You didn't know that I should give you an opportunity ofdiscovering the truth even before you arrived at the house-boat. Benddown close to me--you have injured me; I may not recover; hear what Ihave to say. " I bent over him, prepared to listen to his words, which came out slowly. "I am a forger and a desperate man. Three weeks ago I forged one ofRidsdale's cheques and lessened my friend's balance to the tune of fivethousand pounds. He and his wife were old friends of mine, but I wantedthe money desperately, and was impervious to sentiment or anything else. On that first day when you met me, although I seemed cheery enough, Iwas fit to kill myself. I had hoped to be able to restore the stolenmoney long before Ridsdale was likely to miss it. But this hope hadfailed. I saw no loophole of escape, and the day of reckoning could notbe far off. What devil prompted Ridsdale to bring those diamonds onboard, Heaven only knows. The moment I saw them they fascinated me andI knew I should have a try for them. All during that evening's festivityI could think of nothing else. I made up my mind to secure them by hookor by crook. Before we retired for the night, however, I thought I wouldgive Ridsdale a chance. I asked him if he would lend me the exact sum Ihad already stolen from him, five thousand pounds, but he had heardrumours to my discredit and refused point-blank. I hated him for it. Iwent into my tent under the pretence of lying down, but in reality toconcoct and, if possible, carry out my plot. I waited until the quietesthour before dawn, then I slipped out of my tent, waded into the water, approached the open window of the Countess's cabin, thrust in my hand, took out the case, and, going down the river about a quarter of a mile, threw the diamonds into the middle of the stream. I marked well theplace where they sank; I then returned to my tent and went to bed. "You know what occurred the following morning. I neither feared Ridsdalenor his wife, but you, Bell, gave me a considerable amount ofuneasiness. I felt certain that in an evil moment on the night before Ihad given you a clue. To a man of your ability the slightest clue wasall-sufficient. I felt that I must take the bull by the horns and findout whether you suspected me or not. I talked to you, and guessed by thetone of your remarks that you had your suspicions. My relief was immensewhen that telegram arrived which hurried you away from the _Theodora_. On the following day I returned to my own little place on the banks ofthe river four miles below this lock. I knew it was necessary for me toremain quiet for a time, but all the same my plans were clearly made, and I only waited until the first excitement of the loss had subsidedand the police and detectives were off their guard. In the meantime Iwent to see Ridsdale almost daily, and suggested many expedients forsecuring the thief and getting hold of the right clue. If he eversuspected me, which I don't for a moment suppose, I certainly put himoff the scent. My intention was to take the diamonds out of the country, sell them for all that I could get, then return the five thousand poundswhich I had stolen from his bank, and leave England for ever. As aforger I should be followed to the world's end, but as the possessor ofstolen diamonds I felt myself practically safe. My scheme was toocleverly worked out to give the ordinary detective a chance ofdiscovering me. "Two days ago I had a letter from Ridsdale in which he told me that heintended to put the matter into your hands. Now this was by no means tomy mind, for you, Bell, happened to be the one man in the world whom Ireally dreaded. I saw that I must no longer lose time. Under my littleboat-house I had a small submarine boat which I had lately finished, more as a hobby than anything else. I had begun it years ago in my oddmoments on a model I had seen of a torpedo used in the American War. Myboat is now in the lock outside, and you will see for yourself whatingenuity was needed to construct such a thing. On the night before theone which has just passed, I got it ready, and, as soon as it was dark, started off in it to recover the diamonds. I got through the lock easilyby going in under the water with a barge, but when I reached the spotwhere I had sunk the diamonds, found to my dismay that my electric lightwould not work. There was no help for it--I could not find the braceletwithout the aid of the light, and was bound to return home to repair thelamp. This delay was fraught with danger, but there was no help for it. My difficulty now was to get back through the lock; for though I waitedfor quite three hours no boats came along. I saw the upper gates wereopen, but how to get through the lower ones I could not conceive. I feltsure that my only chance was to frighten the lock-keeper, and get him toopen the sluices, for I knew I could pass through them unobserved ifthey were open, as I had done once before. "In my diver's helmet was a thick glass face-piece. This had an opening, closed by a cap, which could be unscrewed, and through which I couldbreathe when above water, and also through which my voice would come, causing a peculiar hollowness which I guessed would have a verystartling effect, especially as I myself would be quite invisible. I gotinto the lock, and shouted to Pegg. I succeeded in frightening him; hehurried to do what I ordered. He wound up the lower sluice, I shotthrough under water, and so got back unseen. All yesterday I hesitatedabout trying the experiment again, the risk was so great; but I knewthat Ridsdale was certain to see his bank-book soon, that my forgery wasin imminent danger of being discovered, also that you, Bell, were comingupon the scene. "Yes, at any risk, I must now go on. "I repaired my light, and again last night passed through the lock on myway up, by simply waiting for another boat. As a matter of fact, Ipassed up through this lock under a skiff about eleven o'clock. My lightwas now all right, I found the diamond case easily, and turned to passdown the stream by the same method as before. If you had not been here Ishould have succeeded, and should have been safe, but now it is all up. " He paused, and his breath came quickly. "I doubt if I shall recover, " he said in a feeble voice. "I hope you will, " I replied; "and hark! I think I hear the doctor'ssteps. " I was right, for a moment or two later old Jimmy Pegg and Dr. Simmonsentered the cottage. While the doctor was examining the patient andtalking to him, I went out with Jimmy to have a look at the submarineboat. By fixing a rope round it we managed to haul it up, and thenproceeded to examine it. It certainly was the most wonderful piece ofingenious engineering I had ever seen. The boat was in the shape of anenormous cigar, and was made of aluminium. It was seven feet long, andhad a circular beam of sixteen inches. At the pointed end, close towhere the occupant's feet would be, was an air chamber capable of beingfilled or emptied at will by means of a compressed air cylinder, enabling the man to rise or sink whenever he wished to. Inside, the boatwas lined with flat chambers of compressed air for breathing purposes, which were governed by a valve. It was also provided with a smallaccumulator and electric motor which drove the tiny propeller astern. The helmet which the man wore fitted around the opening at the head end. After examining the boat it was easy to see how Vyner had escapedthrough the lock the night before I arrived, as this submarine wonder ofingenuity would be able to shoot through the sluice gate under water, when the sluice was raised to empty the lock. After exchanging a few remarks with Jimmy, I returned to the cottage tolearn the doctor's verdict. It was grave, but not despairing. The patient could not be moved for aday or two. He was, in Dr. Simmons's opinion, suffering more from shockthan anything else. If he remained perfectly quiet, he would in allprobability recover; if he were disturbed, the consequences might beserious. An hour afterwards I found myself on my way up stream sculling as fastas I could in the direction of the _Theodora_. I arrived there at anearly hour, and put the case which contained the diamonds into LadyRidsdale's hands. I shall never forget the astonishment of Ridsdale and his wife when Itold my strange tale. The Countess burst into tears, and Ridsdale wasterribly agitated. "I have known Vyner from a boy, and so has my wife, " he exclaimed. "Ofcourse, this proves him to be an unmitigated scoundrel, but I cannot bethe one to bring him to justice. " "Oh, no, Charlie, whatever happens we must forgive him, " said LadyRidsdale, looking up with a white face. I had nothing to say to this, it was not my affair. Unwittingly I hadbeen the means of restoring to the Ridsdales their lost bracelet; theymust act as they thought well with regard to the thief. As a matter of fact, Vyner did escape the full penalty of his crime. Having got back the diamonds Lord Ridsdale would not prosecute. On thecontrary, he helped the broken-down man to leave the country. From theview of pure justice he was, of course, wrong, but I could not helpbeing glad. As an example of what a desperate man will do, I think it would bedifficult to beat Vyner's story. The originality and magnitude of theconception, the daring which enabled the man, single-handed, to do hisown dredging in a submarine boat in one of the reaches of the Thameshave seldom been equalled. As I thought over the whole scheme, my only regret was that such abilityshould not have been devoted to nobler ends. V HOW SIVA SPOKE During the summer of the past year a medical friend of mine sent me aninvitation to dine with him and two of his fellow-craftsmen at theWelcome Club at the Earl's Court Exhibition. One of our party was acertain Dr. Laurier, a young man of considerable ability, whose specialattention had been directed to mental diseases. He was, indeed, a notedauthority on this subject, and had just completed an appointment at oneof the large London asylums. During dinner he entertained us with a fewof his late experiences-- "I assure you, Mr. Bell, " he said, "there is absolutely no limit to thevagaries of the human mind. At the present moment a most grotesque andpainful form of mental disease has come under my notice. The patient isnot a pauper, but a gentleman of good standing and means. He isunmarried, and owns a lovely place in the country. He spent the earlyyears of his life in India, and when there the craze began which nowassumes the magnitude of a monomania. " "Pray let me hear about him, if your professional etiquette allows youto talk on the subject, " I answered. "I will certainly tell you what I can, " he replied. "I have known theman for years, having met him in town on several occasions. Last weekhis nephew came to see me, and spoke seriously with regard to hisuncle's state of mind. His great craze for years has been spiritualism, theosophy, and mahatmas, with all their attendant hocus-pocus. He firmlybelieves in his power to call up spirits from the vasty deep, and holdsmany extraordinary séances. " "But surely such a craze is not sufficient to prove insanity!" I said. "Hundreds of people believe in such manifestations at the present day. " "I know that well, and perfectly harmless such crazes are so long as thevictims confine their beliefs to spirit-rapping, table-turning, andhumbug of that sort; but when their convictions lead them to commitactions which compromise serious interests, and when, as in this case, there is a possibility of life itself being in danger, it is time theyshould be looked after. " "What is the particular nature of your friend's delusion?" I asked. "This. He is practically a Brahmin, having been deeply imbued with thepeculiar doctrines of Brahminism when in India. Amongst his friends inthe East was a Brahmin of high degree in whose house were three idols, representing the Hindu Trinity--Vishnu, Brahma, and Siva. By some meanswhich have never been explained to me, my friend managed to getpossession of Siva, and brought the idol home. He placed it in a gallerywhich he has in his house, believing from the first that it possessedmystical properties which it was his duty to fathom. The nephew nowtells me that he has brought his craze to such a pass that he firmlybelieves that Siva speaks to him in Hindustanee. The unhappy man kneelsnightly at the altar in front of the idol, receiving, as he imagines, directions from him. The consequence is that he does all sorts of madand extraordinary things, spending his large fortune lavishly in thedecoration of this hideous monster, buying pearls, rubies, and evendiamonds for the purpose, and really being, as he imagines, guided by itin the disposition of his life and property. He has a young nieceresiding with him, to whom he has always been very much attached; but oflate he has been cruel to her, banishing her from his presence, refusingher his sympathy, and has even gone to the length of threatening to takeher life, saying quite openly that Siva informs him night after night ofher treachery towards him. Now the nephew is engaged to this girl, andis naturally anxious about her; but, say what he will, nothing willinduce her to turn against her uncle, to whom she is deeply attached. She denies that he threatens her life, although the nephew declares thathe did so in his own presence. Under such circumstances, her friendsare, naturally, most anxious about her, and feel it their duty to get amedical opinion with regard to the uncle. I am going down to his placeto-morrow, and shall there meet his regular medical attendant inconsultation. " "And then, I suppose, certify as to his insanity?" I answered. "Doubtless; that is, if we come to the conclusion that the man is reallyinsane. " "What an awful responsibility is reposed in you doctors!" I said. "Thinkwhat it means to condemn a man to a lunatic asylum. In the hands of theunscrupulous such a power is terrible. " Dr. Laurier knitted his brows, and looked keenly at me. "What do you mean?" he said in a curious tone. "Of course mistakes aremade now and then, but not, I believe, often. To act in good faith andexercise reasonable care are the two requisites of the law. " "Of course, " I replied, "there are great difficulties on both sides ofthis momentous question; but if I belonged to the profession, I canfrankly say that nothing would induce me to sign a certificate oflunacy. " A few moments afterwards we all rose and strolled about the grounds. Aswe were parting at the exit gates I called Dr. Laurier aside. "The love of mystery is to me a ruling passion, " I said. "Will youexcuse the great liberty I take when I ask you to let me know the resultof your visit of to-morrow? I am immensely interested in yourspiritualist patient. " As I spoke I scribbled my address on a card and handed it to him, halfexpecting that he would resent my intrusiveness. A smile flitted acrosshis clever face, and he stood looking at me for a moment under theglare of the great arc lights. "I will certainly give you the result of my visit, as you are so muchinterested, " he replied. "Good-night. " We got into our respective hansoms, and drove off in differentdirections. I had much to do, and soon forgot both Dr. Laurier and his patient;therefore, on the following Monday, when he was ushered into mypresence, my surprise was great. "I have come to fulfil my promise, " he began. "I am here not only tosatisfy your curiosity about my patient, but also to ask your advice. The fact is the matter has, I think, now merged more into your domainthan mine. " "Pray tell me what has happened, " I asked. "That is what I am about to do; but first I must ensure your absoluteconfidence and secrecy, for my professional reputation may be seriouslycompromised if it is known that I consulted you. " I gave him the assurance, and he proceeded:-- "My patient's name is Edward Thesiger; he lives in a place called TheHynde, in Somersetshire. I went down as I had arranged, and was met atthe station by his nephew, Jasper Bagwell. Bagwell is a thin, anxious-looking man of about five-and-thirty. He drove me over to TheHynde, and I was there met by Thesiger's own physician, Dr. Dalton. Dalton and I each made a separate examination of the patient, and cameto the conclusion that he was undoubtedly queer. "In the course of the afternoon we were all wandering round the grounds, when we were joined by the young girl to whom Bagwell is engaged. Whenshe saw me she gave me a very eager glance, and soon attached herself tomy side. "'I want to speak to you, Dr. Laurier, ' she said in a low voice. "I managed to drop behind in order to give her an opportunity. "'I know what you have come about, ' she said. 'What do you think of myuncle's case?' "'I am not prepared to hazard an opinion, ' I replied. "'Well, please listen to something I have got to say. Jasper Bagwell hashis own reasons for what he tells you. You do very wrong to listen tohim. Uncle Edward is queer, I grant, with regard to the idol Siva, thatis because he is in reality a Brahmin; but if you sign a certificate tothe effect that he is mad, you will be making a very terrible mistake. ' "As she spoke her lips trembled, and tears filled her eyes. "'I am terribly unhappy about it all, ' she continued. "I looked at her earnestly, then I said in a low voice: "'Forgive me if I reply to you as plainly as you have just spoken to me. You arouse my surprise when you speak as you do of Mr. Bagwell. Is itnot the case that you are engaged to marry him?' "She gave a visible start. "'It is the case, ' she answered slowly. Then she continued, speakingwith great emphasis, 'I only marry my cousin because it is the one--theone chance of saving Uncle Edward. ' "'What do you mean?' I asked in astonishment. "'I wish I could tell you, but I dare not. I am a very miserable girl. There is foul play somewhere, of that I am convinced. Oh, believe me!won't you believe me?' "To these extraordinary words I made a somewhat dubious reply, and shesoon left me, to walk by her uncle's side. "Late that evening I was alone with the patient, and he then confided tome much which he had withheld at first. He spoke about the years he hadspent in India, and in especial alluded to the Brahmin religion. He toldme also that he now possesses the idol Siva, and has set it up in amarble gallery where he can hold his spiritualistic séances. Bendingforward as he spoke, and fixing me with his intelligent and yet strangeglance, he said solemnly, and with an appearance of perfect truth on hisface, that by certain incenses and secret incantations he could make theidol speak to him in Hindustanee. He said further that he felt himselfcompletely dominated by it, and was bound to obey all its dictates. Ashe said the latter words his face grew white to the lips. "'Siva is exigent in his demands, ' he said slowly--'exigent andterrible. But come, I will take you into the gallery, and you shall seehim for yourself. ' "I went gladly. We had to go through a long conservatory which openedout of the dining-room; from there we entered an oval-shaped room. Thesiger brought me straight up to the idol. It was placed upon apedestal. It is a hideous monster made of wood, and has five heads; inits hand it holds a trident. I could hardly refrain from smiling when Ifirst saw it. It was difficult to believe that any man, sane or insane, could hold faith in such a monstrosity. My object, however, was to drawthe poor mad fellow out, and I begged of him to take what steps heconsidered necessary in order to induce the creature to speak. Hewillingly obeyed my desire, and with great solemnity went throughelaborate operations; then, turning the lamp very low, knelt at thealtar in front of the idol and began to address it. He waited for itsreplies, which were, of course, inaudible, and then continued speakingagain. After some moments spent in this way he declared solemnly that ithad replied to him, and practically called me a liar when I said I hadnot heard it. "When he turned up the lamp at the end of this strange scene, I noticedfor the first time that the idol was decorated with precious stones ofextraordinary value. To leave such valuables in a room with an unlockeddoor was in itself a symptom of insanity, and when I parted withThesiger for the night I had not the least doubt that my unfortunatehost was really insane. All the same, I had a curious unwillingness withregard to signing the certificate. Bagwell eagerly asked me if I didnot intend to sign. To his astonishment, I replied in the negative. Isaid that the case was a very peculiar one, and that it would benecessary for me to pay a second visit to the patient before I couldtake this extreme step. He was, I could see, intensely annoyed, but Iremained firm. " Laurier stopped speaking and looked me full in the face. "Well?" I asked. "I have come to consult with you over the matter. You remember what yousaid about the responsibility of signing such certificates! It is onaccount of those words I have come to you. " "Well, Dr. Laurier, " I answered, "I shall of course be happy to doanything I can to help you, but I must frankly confess that I fail tosee exactly on what point I can be of service. I know little aboutdisease in general, and nothing about mental diseases in particular. Miss Thesiger seems to think that there is foul play; but have you anysuspicions on your own account?" "I have no proofs, but, all the same, I do suspect foul play, although, perhaps, I have no right to say so. " "Then what do you want me to do?" I asked. "This, " he answered. "Will you come down with me to Somersetshire as myfriend, and in the _rôle_ of a great spiritualist? Thesiger will be onlytoo delighted to meet some one of his own way of thinking. Will youcome?" I thought for a moment--it was not a _rôle_ I cared to assume, but thecase was peculiar, and might possibly lie within my province. Ieventually agreed to accompany Laurier into Somersetshire, and, as amatter of fact, went down with him the next day. He had telegraphed ourarrival to The Hynde, and a hearty invitation was accorded to me. As we were driving through the grounds late the following afternoon wewere met by a tall girl, who was accompanied by two thoroughbredretrievers. "Here is Miss Thesiger, " said Laurier. He called to the driver to stop, and jumping down, went to her side. I accompanied him. "Miss Thesiger, " said Laurier, "let me introduce my friend, Mr. JohnBell. " She looked me full in the face, then her grey eyes seemed to lightenwith momentary pleasure, and she held out her hand. "What have you come back for?" she asked the next moment, turning toLaurier. "To see your uncle. " "Are you to meet Dr. Dalton?" her lips trembled. "I believe so. I assure you, Miss Thesiger, I have come with no sinisterdesign. " Laurier smiled as he spoke. "On the contrary, I am here to-dayin order, if possible, to get at the truth. There is no one who can helpme better than this gentleman. " "Then you do suspect foul play?" she said, her eyes lighting up withsudden hope. "I have no reason to do so, " he answered. "It exists, " she replied. "I know what I am saying; will you not believeme?" As she spoke she glanced hurriedly behind her--footsteps were heardrapidly approaching. "There is my cousin, " she said; "he follows me like a shadow. Dr. Laurier and Mr. Bell, I must see you both, or one of you, in private. Ihave something of great importance which you ought to know. " Before either of us could answer her, Jasper Bagwell came up. He gave usa polite welcome, and glanced keenly at his cousin, who took no noticeof him, but continued her walk. "Poor girl!" he said with a deep sigh, as we three walked slowly to thehouse. "Why do you pity her?" I could not help asking. "Because she is nearly as much under a delusion as my uncle himself. Thefact is she is in the utmost danger, and yet refuses absolutely tobelieve it. The more eccentric my unfortunate uncle grows, the more sheclings to him; she scarcely leaves his side, although it is most unsafefor her to be with him. I think it my absolute duty to watch her day andnight, and am really almost worn out with anxiety. The whole of lastnight I spent in the corridor which divides her room from Mr. Thesiger's. Three times in the course of the night I saw the unfortunatemadman gliding down this corridor, and but for my timely appearance onthe scene I have not the slightest doubt that he would have enteredHelen's room with the most fell design. I see the madness in his eyewhen he even glances at her. He told me solemnly not later thanyesterday that Siva had laid it upon him to take her life, as she wasopposed heart and soul to the doctrines of Brahminism, and was a seriousobstacle in the way of the great work which my uncle was meant by theidol to undertake. I told Helen exactly what he said, but she goes on asif nothing were wrong. The fact is this, Laurier, if you don't sign thatcertificate I must get another doctor who will. " Bagwell's communications were certainly alarming, but we had scarcelytime to reply to them before we reached the house. When we entered thehall the frown departed from his face like magic, he assumed athoroughly pleasant manner, and conducted us quickly into the presenceof the owner of the house. Edward Thesiger was a handsome old man, tall and dignified inappearance. He possessed a particularly lofty and intelligent cast offace, aquiline features, and silver hair which flowed down over hisshoulders. His face was clean shaven, which allowed the handsome curvesof his mobile mouth to be plainly seen. His conversation betokened theman of learning, his words were well chosen, his manner was extremelycalm and quiet. At a first glance no one could look more thoroughlysane. During dinner that night I happened to be seated opposite Miss Thesiger. She was very silent, and seemed terribly depressed. I noticed that sheoften glanced at her uncle, and further observed that he carefullyavoided meeting her eyes. When she came into the room he manifesteddistinct uneasiness, and when she retired to the drawing-room afterdinner a look of relief filled his fine face. He drew up his chair nearmine and began to talk. "I am glad you were able to come, " he said. "It is not often one has theprivilege of meeting a thoroughly kindred spirit. Now, tell me, have youcarefully studied Brahminism?" "I have done so cursorily, " I replied, "and have had from time to timecurious dealings with the supernatural. " I then added abruptly, "I ammuch interested to hear from Laurier that you, Mr. Thesiger, possess theidol Siva in this house. " "Hush!" he said, starting and turning very pale. "Do not say the name insuch a loud and reckless tone. " As he spoke he bent towards me, and hisvoice dropped. "Mr. Bell, I have extraordinary confidences which I canmake to you by-and-by. " "I shall be happy to hear them, " I answered. "Have you had wine enough? Shall we go into the gallery now?" I rose immediately. My host led me into a conservatory, and from therestraight into a marble gallery. It was a curious-looking place, being alarge oval chamber forty feet long, the walls were faced with marble, and a dado painted in Egyptian style ran round the room. Half waybetween the middle of the room and the end stood a fountain of curiousdesign. It consisted of the bronze figure of a swan with wingsoutspread. From its bill the water issued and fell into a circularbasin. Facing this fountain, twenty feet away, stood the idol, with itslittle altar in front of it. I went up and examined it with intenseinterest. The pedestal on which it rested was about three feet high--theidol itself was the same height, so that its five heads were almost on alevel with my face. Round the neck, and decorating each of the heads, were jewels of extraordinary magnificence; the hand which held thetrident was loaded with diamond rings. It is almost impossible todescribe the sinister effect of this grotesque and horrible monster; andwhen I saw Mr. Thesiger gazing at it with a peculiar expression ofreverence not unmixed with fear, I felt certain that Bagwell was right, and that the man was dangerously insane. As I was thinking these thoughts my host groaned quite audibly, and thenlooked steadily at me. "I am living through a very terrible time, " he said in a low voice. "Iam the victim of a strange and awful power. " Here his words dropped toan intense whisper. "Years ago, when I became a Brahmin, " he continued, "voluntarily giving up the faith in which I was born, I little knew towhat such a step would lead. I stole Siva from the house of my Indianfriend and brought the idol home. From the first it began to exercise amarvellous power over me. I had made a large fortune in India; and whenI came to England, bought this place, and finding this curious galleryalready in existence, had it lined with marble, and set up Siva in itsmidst. The study of the faith which I had adopted, the holding ofspiritualistic séances and matters of that sort, occupied my time, and Ibecame more and more imbued with the strange mysticism of my belief. Asthe years flew by I was more and more firmly convinced that what lookslike mere wood is in reality imbued with strange and awful qualities. Ishall never forget that terrible evening when Siva first spoke to me. " "How long ago was that?" I interrupted. "Some months ago now. I was kneeling by the altar, and was speaking tohim as usual, when I heard words uttered in Hindustanee. At first Icould scarcely credit my own ears, but soon I grew accustomed to thefact that Siva wished to hold communication with me, and listened to himnightly. At the beginning of our remarkable intercourse he laid certainmandates upon me which resulted, as you see, in my decorating him withthese precious stones. I felt bound to obey him, whatever he dictated;but of late he has told me--he has told me----" The old man began toshudder and tremble. While he had been speaking to me he had been gazing at the idol; now hewalked a few steps away and turned his back on it. "Sooner or later I must obey him, " he said in a feeble voice; "but thething is driving me crazed--crazed. " "What is it?" I asked; "tell me, I beseech you. " "I cannot; it is too awful--it relates to the one I love best in theworld. The sacrifice is too horrible, and yet I am drawn to it--I amdrawn to the performing of an awful deed by a terrific power. Ask me nomore, Mr. Bell; I see by your face that I have your pity. " "You have, truly, " I answered. I had scarcely said the last words before the door of the gallery wasopened, and Miss Thesiger, Bagwell, and Laurier appeared. Miss Thesigerwent straight to her uncle's side, and laid her hand on his shoulder. "Must you stay up any longer?" she asked in a gentle voice. "I heard youwalking about last night; you were restless and did not sleep. Do go tobed now; you seem so tired. I know these gentlemen will excuse you, " sheadded, glancing from Laurier to me. "Certainly, " said Laurier. "I should recommend Mr. Thesiger to retire atonce; he looks quite worn out. " "I shall go presently--presently, " said Thesiger, in a somewhat curtvoice. "Leave us, Helen; there's a good child; go, my dear. " "Go, Helen; don't irritate him, " I heard Bagwell say. She gave a quick, despairing glance from one man to the other; then, turning, left the room. "And now, Mr. Thesiger, " I said, "will you not grant me the favour of aséance?" Mr. Thesiger remained gravely silent for a moment; then he said: "By virtue of your power as a medium, you may be able to hear the voice, and so convince Dr. Laurier of its reality. " [Illustration: "It was the strangest scene I ever witnessed. "A Master of Mysteries. --Page 207] He then proceeded to go through some elaborate operations, and finallykneeling at the altar, began to speak Hindustanee. It was about the strangest scene I had ever witnessed; and though Istood almost at his elbow, I could hear no sound whatever but his ownvoice. "Siva will not speak to-night, " he said, rising; "there must be some onehere whose influence is adverse. I cannot hear him. It is strange!" He looked puzzled, and more relieved than otherwise. "You will go to bed now, sir, " said Bagwell; "you look very tired. " "I am, " he replied. "I will leave my friends with you, Jasper. You willsee that they have all they want. " He bade Laurier and me a courteousgood-night, nodded to his nephew, and left the room. "This is the most extraordinary phase of mental delusion I ever heardof, " I said. "If you will permit me, Mr. Bagwell, I will examine thisidol more particularly. " "You can do so if you please, " he said, but he did not speak in acordial tone. "Examine it to your heart's content, " he continued a moment later; "onlypray don't disarrange it--he seems to know by instinct if it is touched. Bah! it is sickening. Shall we go into another room, gentlemen?" Watching his face carefully, I resolved to make my examination inprivate, and now followed him into the smoking-room. We stayed there fora short time, talking in a desultory manner, and soon afterwards retiredfor the night. On my dressing-table a note awaited me. I opened it hastily, and saw tomy surprise that it was from Miss Thesiger. "I could not get the opportunity I needed to-night, " she wrote, "butwill you meet me in the Laurel Walk to-morrow morning at five o'clock?" I tore up the letter after reading it, and soon afterwards got into bed. I must confess that I slept badly that night; I felt worried andanxious. There was not the least doubt that Thesiger was mad; it was alltoo apparent that his madness was daily and hourly assuming a more andmore dangerous form. The affectionate girl who clung to him oughtundoubtedly to be removed from his neighbourhood. At the hour named by Miss Thesiger, I rose, dressed, and stoledownstairs through the silent house. I found her as she had indicated inthe Laurel Walk. "How good of you to come!" she said. "But we must not talk here; itwould not be safe. " "What do you mean?" I answered. "No one can possibly watch us at thishour. " "Jasper may be about, " she said; "as far as I can tell he seems never tosleep. I believe he paces outside my room the greater part of thenight. " "You can scarcely blame him for that, " I said; "he does it in order toensure your safety. " She gave me an impatient glance. "I see he has been talking to you, " she replied; "but now it isnecessary for you to hear my side of the story. Come into thissummer-house; he will never guess that we are here. " Turning abruptly, she led the way into a small, tastefully arrangedsummer-house. Shutting the door behind her, she turned at once and facedme. "Now, " she said in an eager voice, "I will tell you everything. There isan unexplained mystery about all this, and I am convinced that Jasper isat the bottom of it. " "What do you mean?" I asked. "I have nothing whatever but a woman's intuition to guide me, but, allthe same, I am convinced of what I am saying. Before Jasper came homeUncle Edward was a Brahmin beyond doubt. His séances were intenselydisagreeable to me, and I took care never to witness them nor to speakto him on the terrible subject of Siva; but, beyond the fact that hewas a Brahmin deeply imbued with the mysteries of his so-calledreligion, he was a perfectly sane, happy, intelligent, and affectionateman. He loved me devotedly, as I am the child of his favourite brother, and told me just before Jasper's arrival that he had made me hisheiress, leaving me all that he possessed in the world. He had neverliked Jasper, and was annoyed when he came here and made this house hisheadquarters. I had not met my cousin since I was a little child, andwhen he arrived on the scene took a great dislike to him. He began atonce to pay me hateful attentions, and to question me eagerly withregard to Uncle Edward and his ways. By a curious coincidence, he hadknown this house before he went to India, having stayed here as a boy. He showed particular interest in the oval gallery, and encouraged UncleEdward to talk of Siva, although he saw that the subject excited himconsiderably. "Jasper had been about a fortnight in the house when my poor uncle made, as he considered, the astounding discovery that Siva could speak tohim. I shall never forget the first day when he told me of this, thesparkle in his eyes, the tremble of his hands, the nervous energy whichseemed to animate him. From that hour day by day came the gradualdiminution of strength both of mind and body, the loss of appetite, thefeverish touch. All these things puzzled and distressed me, but I couldnot bear to confide my fears to Jasper. "These things went on for over a month, and Uncle Edward certainlydeteriorated in every way. He spent the greater part of both day andnight in the gallery, begging of me to come with him, imploring me tolisten for the voice. During that month he spent a large fortune inprecious stones for Siva, showing them to me first before he decoratedthe hideous thing with them. I felt wild with misery, and all the timeJasper was here watching and watching. At the end of the first monththere came a distinct change. Uncle Edward, who had been devoted to meup to then, began to show a new attitude. He now began to dislike tohave me in his presence, often asking me as a special favour to leavethe room. One day he said to me: "'Do you keep your door locked at night?' "I laughed when he spoke. "'Certainly not, ' I answered. "'I wish you would do so, ' he said very earnestly; 'will you, as apersonal favour to me?' "Jasper was in the room when he spoke. I saw a queer light flashingthrough his eyes, and then he bent over his book as if he had not heard. "'As a special favour to me, keep your door locked, Helen, ' said UncleEdward. "I made him a soothing answer, and pretended to assent. Of course Inever locked my door. Then Jasper began to talk to me. He said thatUncle Edward was not only mad, but that his mania was assuming aterrible form, and against me. He said that my life was in danger--hethought to frighten me--little he knew!" Here the brave girl drew herself up, indignation sweeping over her faceand filling her eyes. "I told him I did not believe a word of what he said; I declared thatUncle Edward could not hate me--is he not the one I love best in theworld? Jasper grew very angry. "'Look here, Helen, ' he said, 'I know enough to lock him up. ' "'To lock him up in a lunatic asylum?' I cried. "'Yes, ' he answered. 'I have only to get two doctors to certify to thefact of his insanity, and the deed is done. I have made up my mind to doit. ' "'You could never be so cruel, ' I replied. 'Think of his grey hairs, Jasper, ' I pleaded. 'He is the dearest to me in all the world; you couldnot take his liberty away. Do just respect his one little craze; believeme, he is not really mad. Go away if you are afraid of him; I am not. Oh, why don't you leave us both in peace?' "'I dare not, ' he answered. 'I love you, and I am determined you shallmarry me. Engage yourself to me at once, and I will do nothing to takeaway Uncle Edward's liberty for at least a month. ' "I struggled against this horrible wish of my cousin's, but in the end Iyielded to it. I became engaged to him secretly, for he did not wishUncle Edward to know. I knew, of course, why he wished to marry me; hehad heard that I am some day to inherit my uncle's wealth. Jasperhimself is a very poor man. Now, Mr. Bell, you know everything. Thingsget worse and worse, and at times I am almost inclined to believe thatmy life is in some danger. A fiend has taken possession of the unclewhose heart was so warm and loving. Ah, it is fearful! I do not believea bitterer trial could be given to any girl--it is too awful to feelthat the one she loves best in all the world has changed in his feelingstowards her. It is not so much the sacrifice of my poor life I mind asthe feeling that things are so bitterly altered with him. Jasper put analternative to me last night. Either I am to marry him within a week, orI am to use my influence to induce Dr. Laurier to sign the certificate. If I accept neither proposal, he will get down two other doctors fromLondon for the purpose. " "What have you decided to do?" I asked. "I will marry Jasper; yes, within a week I shall be his wife, unlesssomething happens to show us what is the meaning of this fearfulmystery, for I cannot--never, never can I deprive Uncle Edward of hisliberty. " "I am glad you have confided in me, " I said after a pause, "and I willdo my utmost for you. When did you say that your uncle first heard theidol speak?" "Two or three months ago now, soon after Jasper came home. Mr. Bell, isthere any chance of your being able to help me?" "I will promise to do my utmost, but just at present I can see nospecial light. By the way, would it not be well for you to leave TheHynde for a short time?" "No, I am not at all afraid; I can take care of myself. It is not mydear uncle whom I fear; it is Jasper. " Soon afterwards she left me, and as it was still quite early, and theservants were not yet even up, I considered that an excellentopportunity had occurred for examining the idol. I made my way to the gallery, and softly opening the door, stole in. Thebright sunlight which was now flooding the chamber seemed to rob thegrotesque old idol of half its terrors, and I made up my mind not toleave a stone unturned to discover if any foul play in connection withit could possibly be perpetrated. But the impossibility of such beingthe case seemed more and more evident as I went on with my search. Onlya pigmy could be secreted inside the idol. There was no vulgar form ofdeception possible on the lines, for instance, of the ancient priests ofPompeii who conducted a speaking-tube to an idol's mouth. Siva was noteven standing by the wall, thus precluding the possibility of the soundsbeing conducted on the plan of a whispering gallery. No--I was, againstmy own will, forced to the absolute conviction that the voice was anhallucination of the diseased mind of Edward Thesiger. I was just going to abandon my investigations and return to my own room, when, more by chance than design, I knelt down for a moment at thelittle altar. As I was about to rise I noticed something rather odd. Ilistened attentively. It was certainly remarkable. As I knelt I couldjust hear a low, continuous hissing sound. Directly I moved away itceased. As I tried it several times with the same invariable result, Ibecame seriously puzzled to account for it. What devilry could be atwork to produce this? Was it possible that some one was playing a trickon _me_?--and if so, by what means? I glanced rapidly round, and as I did so a mad thought struck me. Ihurried across to the fountain and put my ear close to the swan'smouth, from which a tiny jet of water was issuing. The low, scarcelyaudible noise that the water made as it flowed out through the swan'sbill was exactly the same sound I had heard nearly twenty feet away atthe altar. The enormity of the situation stunned me for a moment, thengradually, piece by piece, the plot revealed itself. The shape of the gallery was a true oval, a geometrical ellipse, theextraordinary acoustic properties of which I knew well. This peculiarlyshaped gallery contained two foci--one towards each end--and the natureof the curve of the walls was such that sound issuing from either focuswas directed by reflection at various points to the other focus, and tothe other focus alone. Even across an enormous distance between suchwould be the case. The swan's mouth was evidently at one focus; theposition of a man's head as he knelt at the altar would be without theslightest doubt at the other. Could the pipe be used as a speaking-tubewhen the water was turned off? I felt so excited by this extraordinary discovery that it was only withan effort that I maintained my self-control. I knew that presence ofmind was absolutely necessary in order to expose this horrible scheme. Ileft the gallery and passed through the conservatory. Here I found thegardener arranging some pots. I chatted to him for a few moments. Helooked surprised at seeing me up at such an unusual hour. "Can you tell me how the fountain in the gallery is turned on or off?" Iasked. "Yes, I can, sir, " he replied; "the pipe runs along outside this stand, and here's the tap. " I went across and looked at it. In the leaden pipe that was fastened tothe wall were two nuts, which could be turned by a small spanner, andbetween them was a brass cap, which fitted on to a circular outlet fromthe pipe. "What is this used for?" I asked, pointing to the little outlet whichwas closed by the cap. "We screw the hose on there, sir, to water the flowers. " "I see, " I answered; "so when you use the hose you shut off the waterfrom the fountain in the gallery. " "That's it, sir, and a wonderful deal of trouble it saves. Why it wasnever done before I can't think. " "When was it done, then?" I asked. My heart was beating fast. "It was Mr. Bagwell's thought, sir; he had it fixed on soon after hecame. He wanted to have plenty of water handy in order to water theplants he brought back from India; but, lor! sir, they'll never livethrough the winter, even under glass. " I waited to hear no more--the whole infernal plot was laid bare. Thesecond tap, which shut off the water both from the fountain and the hosepipe, was, of course, quite useless, except for Bagwell's evil purpose. I hurried straight up to Laurier's room. He was just preparing to rise. His astonishment when I told him of my discovery was beyond words. "Then, by shutting off the water, and applying his mouth to the placewhere the hose is fixed on, he could convey his voice to the swan'smouth like an ordinary speaking-tube, which, owing to the peculiarconstruction of the gallery, would be carried across to the other focusat the altar?" he said. "Exactly, " I replied. "And now, Dr. Laurier, you must please allow me toregulate our future plans. They're simply these. You must tell Bagwellthat you absolutely refuse to sign the certificate unless Thesigerdeclares that he hears the voice again in your presence, and arrangethat the séance takes place at nine o'clock to-night. I in the meantimeshall ostensibly take my departure, and so leave the ground clear forBagwell. He is evidently rather afraid of me. My going will throw himcompletely off his guard; but I shall in reality only leave the train atthe next station and return here after dark. You will have to see thatthe conservatory door leading on to the terrace is left unlocked. Ishall steal in, and, hiding myself in the conservatory, shall awaitBagwell. You in the meantime will be in the gallery with Thesiger. Whenyou hear me call out, come in at once. Our only hope is to take thatwretch red-handed. " To this hastily constructed scheme Laurier instantly agreed, and at fouro'clock that afternoon I took my leave, Miss Thesiger, looking white andmiserable, standing on the steps to see me off. Bagwell drove me himselfto the station, and bade me good-bye with a heartiness which was at leastsincere. I was back again at The Hynde at half-past eight that evening. Laurierhad left the conservatory door unlocked, and, slipping in, it being nowquite dark, I hid myself behind some large flowering shrubs and waited. Presently I heard the door of the conservatory open, and in stoleBagwell. I saw him approach the pipe, turn the spanner which shut offthe water from the fountain and also from the hose pipe, and thenproceed to unscrew the brass cap. I waited till I saw him place hismouth to the opening and begin to speak, and then I dashed out upon himand called loudly for Laurier. Bagwell's surprise and terror at myunexpected attack absolutely bereft him of speech, and he stood gazingat me with a mixed expression of fury and fear. The next minute Laurierand Thesiger both burst in from the gallery. I still retained my hold ofBagwell. The moment I saw the sign, I went up to him, and in a few wordsexplained the whole fraud. But it was not until I had demonstrated thetrick in the oval gallery that he became convinced; then the relief onhis face was marvellous. "You leave my house at once, " he said to Bagwell; "go, sir, if you donot wish to be in the hands of the police. Where is Helen? where is mychild?" He had scarcely said the words, and Bagwell was just slinking off with awhite face like a whipped cur towards the door, when Helen appeared uponthe scene. "What is it?" she cried. "Is anything the matter?" The old man strode up to her; he took her in his arms. "It is all right, Helen, " he said, "all right. I can never explain; but, take my word, it is all right. I was a fool, and worse--nay, I wasmad--but I am sane now. Mr. Bell, I can never express my obligations toyou. But now, will you do one thing more?" "What is that? Be assured I will do anything in my power, " I answered. "Then return here to-night and destroy Siva. How I could have beeninfatuated enough to believe in that senseless piece of wood is beyondmy power to understand. But destroy it, sir; take it away; let me neverlay eyes on it again. " Early on the following morning, when I was leaving the house, Bagwell, who must have been waiting for the purpose, suddenly stepped across mypath. "I have a word of explanation to give, " he said. "You, Mr. Bell, havewon, and I have lost. I played a deep game and for a large cause. It didnot occur to me as possible that any one could discover the means bywhich I made Siva speak. I am now about to leave England for ever, butbefore I do so, it may interest you to know that the temptation offeredto me was a very peculiar and strong one. I had not been an hour at theHynde before I suddenly remembered having spent some months in the oldhouse when a boy. I recollected the oval gallery. Its peculiar acousticqualities had been pointed out to me by a scientist who happened to livethere at the time. The desire to win, not Helen, but my uncle'sproperty, was too strong to be resisted by a penniless man. My objectwas to terrify Thesiger, whose brain was already nearly overbalanced, into complete insanity, get him locked up, and marry Helen. How Isucceeded, and in the end failed, you know well!" VI TO PROVE AN ALIBI I first met Arthur Cressley in the late spring of 1892. I had beenspending the winter in Egypt, and was returning to Liverpool. One calmevening, about eleven o'clock, while we were still in the Mediterranean, I went on deck to smoke a final cigar before turning in. After pacing upand down for a time I leant over the taff-rail and began idly watchingthe tiny wavelets with their crests of white fire as they rippled awayfrom the vessel's side. Presently I became aware of some one standingnear me, and, turning, saw that it was one of my fellow-passengers, ayoung man whose name I knew but whose acquaintance I had not yet made. He was entered in the passenger list as Arthur Cressley, belonged to anold family in Derbyshire, and was returning home from Western Australia, where he had made a lot of money. I offered him a light, and after a fewpreliminary remarks we drifted into a desultory conversation. He told methat he had been in Australia for fifteen years, and having done wellwas now returning to settle in his native land. "Then you do not intend going out again?" I asked. "No, " he replied; "I would not go through the last fifteen years fordouble the money I have made. " "I suppose you will make London your headquarters?" "Not altogether; but I shall have to spend a good deal of time there. Mywish is for a quiet country life, and I intend to take over the oldfamily property. We have a place called Cressley Hall, in Derbyshire, which has belonged to us for centuries. It would be a sort of whiteelephant, for it has fallen into pitiable decay; but, luckily, I am nowin a position to restore it and set it going again in renewedprosperity. " "You are a fortunate man, " I answered. "Perhaps I am, " he replied. "Yes, as far as this world's goods go Isuppose I am lucky, considering that I arrived in Australia fifteenyears ago with practically no money in my pocket. I shall be glad to behome again for many reasons, chiefly because I can save the old propertyfrom being sold. " "It is always a pity when a fine old family seat has to go to the hammerfor want of funds, " I remarked. "That is true, and Cressley Hall is a superb old place. There is onlyone drawback to it; but I don't believe there is anything in that, "added Cressley in a musing tone. Knowing him so little I did not feel justified in asking for anexplanation. I waited, therefore, without speaking. He soon proceeded: "I suppose I am rather foolish about it, " he continued; "but if I amsuperstitious, I have abundant reason. For more than a century and ahalf there has been a strange fatality about any Cressley occupying theHall. This fatality was first exhibited in 1700, when BarringtonCressley, one of the most abandoned libertines of that time, led hisinfamous orgies there--of these even history takes note. There areendless legends as to their nature, one of which is that he had personaldealings with the devil in the large turret room, the principal bedroomat the Hall, and was found dead there on the following morning. Certainly since that date a curious doom has hung over the family, andthis doom shows itself in a strange way, only attacking those victimswho are so unfortunate as to sleep in the turret room. Gilbert Cressley, the young Court favourite of George the Third, was found mysteriouslymurdered there, and my own great-grandfather paid the penalty by losinghis reason within those gloomy walls. " "If the room has such an evil reputation, I wonder that it is occupied, "I replied. "It happens to be far and away the best bedroom in the house, and peoplealways laugh at that sort of thing until they are brought face to facewith it. The owner of the property is not only born there, as a rule, but also breathes his last in the old four-poster, the mostextraordinary, wonderful old bedstead you ever laid eyes on. Of course Ido not believe in any malevolent influences from the unseen world, butthe record of disastrous coincidences in that one room is, to say theleast of it, curious. Not that this sort of thing will deter me fromgoing into possession, and I intend to put a lot of money into CressleyHall. " "Has no one been occupying it lately?" I asked. "Not recently. An old housekeeper has had charge of the place for thelast few years. The agent had orders to sell the Hall long ago, butthough it has been in the market for a long time I do not believe therewas a single offer. Just before I left Australia I wired to Murdock, myagent, that I intended taking over the place, and authorised itswithdrawal from the market. " "Have you no relations?" I inquired. "None at all. Since I have been away my only brother died. It is curiousto call it going home when one has no relatives and only friends whohave probably forgotten one. " I could not help feeling sorry for Cressley as he described the lonelyoutlook. Of course, with heaps of money and an old family place he wouldsoon make new friends; but he looked the sort of chap who might beimposed upon, and although he was as nice a fellow as I had ever met, Icould not help coming to the conclusion that he was not speciallystrong, either mentally or physically. He was essentially good-looking, however, and had the indescribable bearing of a man of old family. Iwondered how he had managed to make his money. What he told me about hisold Hall also excited my interest, and as we talked I managed to alludeto my own peculiar hobby, and the delight I took in such old legends. As the voyage flew by our acquaintance grew apace, ripening into a warmfriendship. Cressley told me much of his past life, and finallyconfided to me one of his real objects in returning to England. While prospecting up country he had come across some rich veins of gold, and now his intention was to bring out a large syndicate in order toacquire the whole property, which, he anticipated, was worth at least amillion. He spoke confidently of this great scheme, but always wound upby informing me that the money which he hoped to make was only ofinterest to him for the purpose of re-establishing Cressley Hall in itsancient splendour. As we talked I noticed once or twice that a man stood near us who seemedto take an interest in our conversation. He was a thickly set individualwith a florid complexion and a broad German cast of face. He was aninveterate smoker, and when he stood near us with a pipe in his mouththe expression of his face was almost a blank; but watching him closelyI saw a look in his eyes which betokened the shrewd man of business, andI could scarcely tell why, but I felt uncomfortable in his presence. This man, Wickham by name, managed to pick up an acquaintance withCressley, and soon they spent a good deal of time together. They made acontrast as they paced up and down on deck, or played cards in theevening; the Englishman being slight and almost fragile in build, theGerman of the bulldog order, with a manner at once curt and overbearing. I took a dislike to Wickham, and wondered what Cressley could see inhim. "Who is the fellow?" I asked on one occasion, linking my hand inCressley's arm and drawing him aside as I spoke. "Do you mean Wickham?" he answered. "I am sure I cannot tell you. Inever met the chap before this voyage. He came on board at King George'sSound, where I also embarked; but he never spoke to me until we were inthe Mediterranean. On the whole, Bell, I am inclined to like him; heseems to be downright and honest. He knows a great deal about the bush, too, as he has spent several years there. " [Illustration: "They made a contrast. "A Master of Mysteries. --Page 234] "And he gives you the benefit of his information?" I asked. "I don't suppose he knows more than I do, and it is doubtful whether hehas had so rough a time. " "Then in that case he picks your brains. " "What do you mean?" The young fellow looked at me with those clear grey eyes which were hismost attractive feature. "Nothing, " I answered, "nothing; only if you will be guided by a mannearly double your age, I would take care to tell Wickham as little aspossible. Have you ever observed that he happens to be about when youand I are engaged in serious conversation?" "I can't say that I have. " "Well, keep your eyes open and you'll see what I mean. Be as friendly asyou like, but don't give him your confidence--that is all. " "You are rather late in advising me on that score, " said Cressley, witha somewhat nervous laugh. "Wickham knows all about the old Hall by thistime. " "And your superstitious fears with regard to the turret room?" Iqueried. "Well, I have hinted at them. You will be surprised, but he is full ofsympathy. " "Tell him no more, " I said in conclusion. Cressley made a sort of half-promise, but looked as if he ratherresented my interference. A day or two later we reached Liverpool; I was engaged long ago to staywith some friends in the suburbs, and Cressley took up his abode at thePrince's Hotel. His property was some sixty miles away, and when weparted he insisted on my agreeing to come down and see his place as soonas he had put things a little straight. I readily promised to do so, provided we could arrange a visit before myreturn to London. Nearly a week went by and I saw nothing of Cressley; then, on a certainmorning, he called to see me. "How are you getting on?" I asked. "Capitally, " he replied. "I have been down to the Hall several timeswith my agent, Murdock, and though the place is in the most shockingcondition I shall soon put things in order. But what I have comespecially to ask you now is whether you can get away to-day and comewith me to the Hall for a couple of nights. I had arranged with theagent to go down this afternoon in his company, but he has been suddenlytaken ill--he is rather bad, I believe--and cannot possibly come withme. He has ordered the housekeeper to get a couple of rooms ready, andthough I am afraid it will be rather roughing it, I shall be awfullyglad if you can come. " I had arranged to meet a man in London on special business that veryevening, and could not put him off; but my irresistible desire to seethe old place from the description I had heard of it decided me to makean effort to fall in as well as I could with Cressley's plans. "I wish I could go with you to-day, " I said; "but that, as it happens, is out of the question. I must run up to town on some pressing business;but if you will allow me I can easily come back again to-morrow. Can younot put off your visit until to-morrow evening?" "No, I am afraid I cannot do that. I have to meet several of thetenants, and have made all arrangements to go by the five o'clock trainthis afternoon. " He looked depressed at my refusal, and after a moment said thoughtfully: "I wish you could have come with me to-day. When Murdock could not comeI thought of you at once--it would have made all the difference. " "I am sorry, " I replied; "but I can promise faithfully to be with youto-morrow. I shall enjoy seeing your wonderful old Hall beyond anything;and as to roughing it, I am used to that. You will not mind spending onenight there by yourself?" He looked at me as if he were about to speak, but no words came from hislips. "What is the matter?" I said, giving him an earnest glance. "By the way, are you going to sleep in the turret room?" "I am afraid there is no help for it; the housekeeper is certain to getit ready for me. The owner of the property always sleeps there, and itwould look like a confession of weakness to ask to be put into anotherbedroom. " "Nevertheless, if you are nervous, I should not mind that, " I said. "Oh, I don't know that I am absolutely nervous, Bell, but all the same Ihave a superstition. At the present moment I have the queerestsensation; I feel as if I ought not to pay this visit to the Hall. " "If you intend to live there by-and-by, you must get over this sort ofthing, " I remarked. "Oh yes, I must, and I would not yield to it on any account whatever. Iam sorry I even mentioned it to you. It is good of you to promise tocome to-morrow, and I shall look forward to seeing you. By what trainwill you come?" We looked up the local time-table, and I decided on a train which wouldleave Liverpool about five o'clock. "The very one that I shall go down by to-day, " said Cressley; "that'scapital, I'll meet you with a conveyance of some sort and drive youover. The house is a good two hours' drive from the station, and youcannot get a trap there for love or money. " "By the way, " I said, "is there much the matter with your agent?" "I cannot tell you; he seems bad enough. I went up to his house thismorning and saw the wife. It appears that he was suddenly taken ill witha sort of asthmatic attack to which he is subject. While I was talkingto Mrs. Murdock, a messenger came down to say that her husband speciallywished to see me, so we both went to his room, but he had dozed off intoa queer restless sleep before we arrived. The wife said he must not beawakened on any account, but I caught a glimpse of him and he certainlylooked bad, and was moaning as if in a good deal of pain. She gave methe keys of a bureau in his room, and I took out some estimates, andleft a note for him telling him to come on as soon as he was wellenough. " "And your visit to his room never roused him?" I said. "No, although Mrs. Murdock and I made a pretty good bit of noise movingabout and opening and shutting drawers. His moans were quiteheartrending--he was evidently in considerable pain; and I was glad toget away, as that sort of thing always upsets me. " "Who is this Murdock?" I asked. "Oh, the man who has looked after the place for years. I was referred tohim by my solicitors. He seems a most capable person, and I hope togoodness he won't be ill long. If he is I shall find myself in rather afix. " I made no reply to this, and soon afterwards Cressley shook hands withme and departed on his way. I went to my room, packed my belongings, andtook the next train to town. The business which I had to get throughoccupied the whole of that evening and also some hours of the followingday. I found I was not able to start for Liverpool before the 12. 10train at Euston, and should not therefore arrive at Lime Street beforefive o'clock--too late to catch the train for Brent, the nearest stationto Cressley's place. Another train left Central Station for Brent, however, at seven o'clock, and I determined to wire to Cressley to tellhim to meet me by the latter train. This was the last train in the day, but there was no fear of my missing it. I arrived at Lime Street almost to the moment and drove straight to thePrince's Hotel, where I had left my bag the day before. Here a telegramawaited me; it was from Cressley, and ran as follows:-- "Hope this will reach you time; if so, call at Murdock's house, No. 12, Melville Gardens. If possible see him and get the documents referred to in Schedule A--he will know what you mean. Most important. "Cressley. " I glanced at the clock in the hall; it was now a quarter past five--mytrain would leave at seven. I had plenty of time to get something to eatand then go to Murdock's. Having despatched my telegram to Cressley, telling him to look out forme by the train which arrived at Brent at nine o'clock, I ordered ameal, ate it, and then hailing a cab, gave the driver the number ofMurdock's house. Melville Gardens was situated somewhat in the suburbs, and it was twenty minutes' drive from my hotel. When we drew up atMurdock's door I told the cabman to wait, and, getting out, rang thebell. The servant who answered my summons told me that the agent wasstill very ill and could not be seen by any one. I then inquired for thewife. I was informed that she was out, but would be back soon. I lookedat my watch. It was just six o'clock. I determined to wait to see Mrs. Murdock if possible. Having paid and dismissed my cab, I was shown into a small, untidilykept parlour, where I was left to my own meditations. The weather washot and the room close. I paced up and down restlessly. The minutes flewby and Mrs. Murdock did not put in an appearance. I looked at my watch, which now pointed to twenty minutes past six. It would take me, in anordinary cab, nearly twenty minutes to reach the station. In order tomake all safe I ought to leave Murdock's house in ten minutes from nowat the latest. I went and stood by the window watching anxiously for Mrs. Murdock toput in an appearance. Melville Gardens was a somewhat lonely place, andfew people passed the house, which was old and shabby; it had evidentlynot been done up for years. I was just turning round in order to ringthe bell to leave a message with the servant, when the room door wasopened and, to my astonishment, in walked Wickham, the man I had lastseen on board the _Euphrates_. He came up to me at once and held out hishand. "No doubt you are surprised at seeing me here, Mr. Bell, " he exclaimed. "I certainly was for a moment, " I answered; but then I added, "The worldis a small place, and one soon gets accustomed to acquaintances croppingup in all sorts of unlikely quarters. " "Why unlikely?" said Wickham. "Why should I not know Murdock, whohappens to be a very special and very old friend of mine? I might aswell ask you why you are interested in him. " "Because I happen to be a friend of Arthur Cressley's, " I answered, "andhave come here on his business. " "And so am I also a friend of Cressley's. He has asked me to go and seehim at Cressley Hall some day, and I hope to avail myself of hisinvitation. The servant told me that you were waiting for Mrs. Murdock--can I give her any message from you?" "I want to see Murdock himself, " I said, after a pause. "Do you thinkthat it is possible for me to have an interview with him?" "I left him just now and he was asleep, " said Wickham. "He is still veryill, and I think the doctor is a little anxious about him. It would notdo to disturb him on any account. Of course, if he happens to awake hemight be able to tell you what you want to know. By the way, has itanything to do with Cressley Hall?" "Yes; I have just had a telegram from Cressley, and the message issomewhat important. You are quite sure that Murdock is asleep?" "He was when I left the room, but I will go up again and see. Are yougoing to London to-night, Mr. Bell?" "No; I am going down to Cressley Hall, and must catch the seven o'clocktrain. I have not a moment to wait. " As I spoke I took out my watch. "It only wants five-and-twenty minutes to seven, " I said, "and I nevercare to run a train to the last moment. There is no help for it, Isuppose I must go without seeing Murdock. Cressley will in allprobability send down a message to-morrow for the papers he requires. " "Just stay a moment, " said Wickham, putting on an anxious expression;"it is a great pity that you should not see Cressley's agent if it is asvital as all that. Ah! and here comes Mrs. Murdock; wait one moment, I'll go and speak to her. " He went out of the room, and I heard him say something in a low voice inthe passage--a woman's voice replied, and the next instant Mrs. Murdockstood before me. She was a tall woman with a sallow face and sandy hair;she had a blank sort of stare about her, and scarcely any expression. Now she fixed her dull, light-blue eyes on my face and held out herhand. "You are Mr. Bell?" she said. "I have heard of you, of course, from Mr. Cressley. So you are going to spend to-night with him at Cressley Hall. I am glad, for it is a lonely place--the most lonely place I know. " "Pardon me, " I interrupted, "I cannot stay to talk to you now or I shallmiss my train. Can I see your husband or can I not?" She glanced at Wickham, then she said with hesitation, -- "If he is asleep it would not do to disturb him, but there is a chanceof his being awake now. I don't quite understand about the papers, Iwish I did. It would be best for you to see him certainly; follow meupstairs. " "And I tell you what, " called Wickham after us, "I'll go and engage acab, so that you shall lose as short a time as possible, Mr. Bell. " I thanked him and followed the wife upstairs. The stairs were narrow andsteep, and we soon reached the small landing at the top. Four bedroomsopened into it. Mrs. Murdock turned the handle of the one which exactlyfaced the stairs, and we both entered. Here the blinds were down, andthe chamber was considerably darkened. The room was a small one, and thegreater part of the space was occupied by an old-fashioned Albertbedstead with the curtains pulled forward. Within I could just see theshadowy outline of a figure, and I distinctly heard the feeble groans ofthe sick man. "Ah! what a pity, my husband is still asleep, " said Mrs. Murdock, as sheturned softly round to me and put her finger to her lips. "It wouldinjure him very much to awaken him, " she said. "You can go and look athim if you like; you will see how very ill he is. I wonder if I couldhelp you with regard to the papers you want, Mr. Bell?" "I want the documents referred to in Schedule A, " I answered. "Schedule A?" she repeated, speaking under her breath. "I remember thatname. Surely all the papers relating to it are in this drawer. I think Ican get them for you. " She crossed the room as she spoke, and standing with her back to thebedstead, took a bunch of keys from a table which stood near and fittedone into the lock of a high bureau made of mahogany. She pulled open adrawer and began to examine its contents. While she was so occupied I approached the bed, and bending slightlyforward, took a good stare at the sick man. I had never seen Murdockbefore. There was little doubt that he was ill--he looked very ill, indeed. His face was long and cadaverous, the cheek bones were high, andthe cheeks below were much sunken in; the lips, which were clean-shaven, were slightly drawn apart, and some broken irregular teeth were visible. The eyebrows were scanty, and the hair was much worn away from the highand hollow forehead. The man looked sick unto death. I had seldom seenany one with an expression like his--the closed eyes were much sunken, and the moaning which came from the livid lips was horrible to listento. After giving Murdock a long and earnest stare, I stepped back from thebed, and was just about to speak to Mrs. Murdock, who was rustlingpapers in the drawer, when the most strong and irresistible curiosityassailed me. I could not account for it, but I felt bound to yield toits suggestions. I turned again and bent close over the sick man. Surelythere was something monotonous about that deep-drawn breath; thosemoans, too, came at wonderfully regular intervals. Scarcely knowing whyI did it, I stretched out my hand and laid it on the forehead. Good God!what was the matter? I felt myself turning cold; the perspiration stoodout on my own brow. I had not touched a living forehead at all. Fleshwas flesh, it was impossible to mistake the feel, but there was no fleshhere. The figure in the bed was neither a living nor a dead man, it wasa wax representation of one; but why did it moan, and how was itpossible for it not to breathe? Making the greatest effort of my life, I repressed an exclamation, andwhen Mrs. Murdock approached me with the necessary papers in her hand, took them from her in my usual manner. "These all relate to Schedule A, " she said. "I hope I am not doingwrong in giving them to you without my husband's leave. He looks veryill, does he not?" "He looks as bad as he can look, " I answered. I moved towards the door. Something in my tone must have alarmed her, for a curious expression offear dilated the pupils of her light blue eyes. She followed medownstairs. A hansom was waiting for me. I nodded to Wickham, did noteven wait to shake hands with Mrs. Murdock, and sprang into the cab. "Central Station!" I shouted to the man; and then as he whipped up hishorse and flew down the street, "A sovereign if you get there beforeseven o'clock. " We were soon dashing quickly along the streets. I did not know Liverpoolwell, and consequently could not exactly tell where the man was going. When I got into the hansom it wanted twelve minutes to seven o'clock;these minutes were quickly flying, and still no station. "Are you sure you are going right?" I shouted through the hole in theroof. "You'll be there in a minute, sir, " he answered. "It's Lime StreetStation you want, isn't it?" "No; Central Station, " I answered. "I told you Central Station; drivethere at once like the very devil. I must catch that train, for it isthe last one to-night. " "All right, sir; I can do it, " he cried, whipping up his horse again. Once more I pulled out my watch; the hands pointed to three minutes toseven. At ten minutes past we were driving into the station. I flung the manhalf a sovereign, and darted into the booking-office. "To Brent, sir? The last train has just gone, " said the clerk, with animpassive stare at me through the little window. I flung my bag down in disgust and swore a great oath. But for thatidiot of a driver I should have just caught the train. All of a sudden ahorrible thought flashed through my brain. Had the cabman been bribed byWickham? No directions could have been plainer than mine. I had told theman to drive to Central Station. Central Station did not sound theleast like Lime Street Station. How was it possible for him to make sograve a mistake? The more I considered the matter the more certain I was that a blackplot was brewing, and that Wickham was in the thick of it. My brainbegan to whirl with excitement. What was the matter? Why was a layfigure in Murdock's bed? Why had I been taken upstairs to see it?Without any doubt both Mrs. Murdock and Wickham wished me to see whatwas such an admirable imitation of a sick man--an imitation so good, with those ghastly moans coming from the lips, that it would have takenin the sharpest detective in Scotland Yard. I myself was deceived untilI touched the forehead. This state of things had not been brought topass without a reason. What was the reason? Could it be possible thatMurdock was wanted elsewhere, and it was thought well that I should seehim in order to prove an alibi, should he be suspected of a ghastlycrime? My God! what could this mean? From the first I had mistrustedWickham. What was he doing in Murdock's house? For what purpose had hebribed the driver of the cab in order to make me lose my train? The more I thought, the more certain I was that Cressley was in gravedanger; and I now determined, cost what it might, to get to him thatnight. I left the station, took a cab, and drove back to my hotel. I asked tosee the manager. A tall, dark man in a frock-coat emerged from a door atthe back of the office and inquired what he could do for me. I beggedpermission to speak to him alone, and we passed into his private room. "I am in an extraordinary position, " I began. "Circumstances of aprivate nature make it absolutely necessary that I should go to a placecalled Cressley Hall, about fourteen miles from Brent. Brent is sixtymiles down the line, and the last train has gone. I could take a'special, ' but there might be an interminable delay at Brent, and Iprefer to drive straight to Cressley Hall across country. Can youassist me by directing me to some good jobmaster from whom I can hire acarriage and horses?" The man looked at me with raised eyebrows. He evidently thought I wasmad. "I mean what I say, " I added, "and am prepared to back my words with asubstantial sum. Can you help me?" "I dare say you might get a carriage and horses to do it, " he replied;"but it is a very long way, and over a hilly country. No two horsescould go such a distance without rest. You would have to change fromtime to time as you went. I will send across to the hotel stables for myman, and you can see him about it. " He rang the bell and gave his orders. In a few moments the jobmastercame in. I hurriedly explained to him what I wanted. At first he said itwas impossible, that his best horses were out, and that those he had inhis stables could not possibly attempt such a journey; but when Ibrought out my cheque-book and offered to advance any sum in reason, hehesitated. "Of course there is one way in which it might be managed, sir. I wouldtake you myself as far as Ovenden, which is five-and-twenty miles fromhere. There, I know, we could get a pair of fresh horses from the Swan;and if we wired at once from here, horses might be ready at Carlton, which is another twenty miles on the road. But, at our best, sir, itwill be between two and three in the morning before we get to Brent. " "I am sorry to hear you say so, " I answered; "but it is better to arrivethen than to wait until to-morrow. Please send the necessary telegramoff without a moment's delay, and get the carriage ready. " "Put the horses in at once, John, " said the manager. "You had bettertake the light wagonette. You ought to get there between one and two inthe morning with that. " Then he added, as the man left the room, -- "I suppose, sir, your business is very urgent?" "It is, " I replied shortly. He looked as if he would like to question me further, but refrained. A few moments later I had taken my seat beside the driver, and we werespeeding at a good round pace through the streets of Liverpool. Wepassed quickly through the suburbs, and out into the open country. Theevening was a lovely one, and the country looked its best. It wasdifficult to believe, as I drove through the peaceful landscape, that inall probability a dark deed was in contemplation, and that the young manto whom I had taken a most sincere liking was in danger of his life. As I drove silently by my companion's side I reviewed the wholesituation. The more I thought of it the less I liked it. On board the_Euphrates_ Wickham had been abnormally interested in Cressley. Cressleyhad himself confided to him his superstitious dread with regard to theturret room. Cressley had come home with a fortune; and if he floatedhis syndicate he would be a millionaire. Wickham scarcely looked like arich man. Then why should he know Murdock, and why should a lay figurebe put in Murdock's bed? Why, also, through a most unnatural accident, should I have lost my train? The more I thought, the graver and graver became my fears. Graduallydarkness settled over the land, and then a rising moon flooded thecountry in its weird light. I had been on many a wild expedition before, but in some ways never a wilder than this. Its very uncertainty, wrappedas it was in unformed suspicions, gave it an air of inexpressiblemystery. On and on we went, reaching Ovenden between nine and ten at night. Herehorses were ready for us, and we again started on our way. When we gotto Carlton, however, there came a hitch in my well-formed arrangements. We drew up at the little inn, to find the place in total darkness, andall the inhabitants evidently in bed and asleep. With some difficultywe roused the landlord, and asked why the horses which had beentelegraphed for had not been got ready. "We did not get them when the second telegram arrived, " was the reply. "The second telegram!" I cried, my heart beating fast. "What do youmean?" "There were two, sir, both coming from the same stables. The first waswritten desiring us to have the horses ready at any cost. The secondcontradicted the first, and said that the gentleman had changed hismind, and was not going. On receipt of that, sir, I shut up the house asusual, and we all went to bed. I am very sorry if there has been anymistake. " "There has, and a terrible one, " I could not help muttering under mybreath. My fears were getting graver than ever. Who had sent the secondtelegram? Was it possible that I had been followed by Wickham, who tookthese means of circumventing me? "We must get horses, and at once, " I said. "Never mind about the secondtelegram; it was a mistake. " Peach, the jobmaster, muttered an oath. "I can't understand what is up, " he said. He looked mystified and nottoo well pleased. Then he added, -- "These horses can't go another step, sir. " "They must if we can get no others, " I said. I went up to him, and beganto whisper in his ear. "This is a matter of life and death, my good friend. Only the direstnecessity takes me on this journey. The second telegram without doubtwas sent by a man whom I am trying to circumvent. I know what I amsaying. We must get horses, or these must go on. We have not an instantto lose. There is a conspiracy afoot to do serious injury to the ownerof Cressley Hall. " "What! the young gentleman who has just come from Australia? You don'tmean to say he is in danger?" said Peach. "He is in the gravest danger. I don't mind who knows. I have reason formy fears. " While I was speaking the landlord drew near. He overheard some of mylast words. The landlord and Peach now exchanged glances. After a momentthe landlord spoke, -- "A neighbour of ours, sir, has got two good horses, " he said. "He is thedoctor in this village. I believe he'll lend them if the case is asurgent as you say. " "Go and ask him, " I cried. "You shall have ten pounds if we are on theroad in five minutes from the present moment. " At this hint the landlord flew. He came back in an incredibly shortspace of time, accompanied by the doctor's coachman leading the horses. They were quickly harnessed to the wagonette, and once more we startedon our way. "Now drive as you never drove before in the whole course of your life, "I said to Peach. "Money is no object. We have still fifteen miles to go, and over a rough country. You can claim any reward in reason if you getto Cressley Hall within an hour. " "It cannot be done, sir, " he replied; but then he glanced at me, andsome of the determination in my face was reflected in his. He whipped upthe horses. They were thoroughbred animals, and worked well underpressure. We reached the gates of Cressley Hall between two and three in themorning. Here I thought it best to draw up, and told my coachman that Ishould not need his services any longer. "If you are afraid of mischief, sir, would it not be best for me to lieabout here?" he asked. "I'd rather be in the neighbourhood in case youwant me. I am interested in this here job, sir. " "You may well be, my man. God grant it is not a black business. Well, walk the horses up and down, if you like. If you see nothing of mewithin the next couple of hours, judge that matters are all right, andreturn with the horses to Carlton. " This being arranged, I turned from Peach and entered the lodge gates. Just inside was a low cottage surrounded by trees. I paused for a momentto consider what I had better do. My difficulty now was how to obtainadmittance to the Hall, for of course it would be shut up and all itsinhabitants asleep at this hour. Suddenly an idea struck me. Idetermined to knock up the lodge-keeper, and to enlist her assistance. Iwent across to the door, and presently succeeded in rousing the inmates. A woman of about fifty appeared. I explained to her my position, andbegged of her to give me her help. She hesitated at first in unutterableastonishment; but then, seeing something in my face which convinced her, I suppose, of the truth of my story, for it was necessary to alarm herin order to induce her to do anything, she said she would do what Iwished. "I know the room where Mitchell, the old housekeeper, sleeps, " she said, "and we can easily wake him by throwing stones up at his window. Ifyou'll just wait a minute I'll put a shawl over my head and go withyou. " She ran into an inner room and quickly re-appeared. Together we made ourway along the drive which, far as I could see, ran through a parkstudded with old timber. We went round the house to the back entrance, and the woman, after a delay of two or three moments, during which I wason thorns, managed to wake up Mitchell the housekeeper. He came to hiswindow, threw it open, and poked out his head. "What can be wrong?" he said. "It is Mr. Bell, James, " was the reply, "the gentleman who has beenexpected at the Hall all the evening; he has come now, and wants you toadmit him. " The old man said that he would come downstairs. He did so, and opening adoor, stood in front of it, barring my entrance. "Are you really the gentleman Mr. Cressley has been expecting?" he said. "I am, " I replied; "I missed my train, and was obliged to drive out. There is urgent need why I should see your master immediately; where ishe?" "I hope in bed, sir, and asleep; it is nearly three o'clock in themorning. " "Never mind the hour, " I said; "I must see Mr. Cressley immediately. Canyou take me to his room?" "If I am sure that you are Mr. John Bell, " said the old man, glancing atme with not unnatural suspicion. "Rest assured on that point. Here, this is my card, and here is atelegram which I received to-day from your master. " "But master sent no telegram to-day. " "You must be mistaken, this is from him. " "I don't understand it, sir, but you look honest, and I suppose I musttrust you. " "You will do well to do so, " I said. He moved back and I entered the house. He took me down a passage, andthen into a lofty chamber, which probably was the old banqueting-hall. As well as I could see by the light of the candle, it was floored, andpanelled with black oak. Round the walls stood figures of knights inarmour, with flags and banners hanging from the panels above. Ifollowed the old man up a broad staircase and along endless corridors toa more distant part of the building. We turned now abruptly to ourright, and soon began to ascend some turret stairs. "In which room is your master?" I asked. "This is his room, sir, " said the man. He stood still and pointed to adoor. "Stay where you are; I may want you, " I said. I seized his candle, and holding it above my head, opened the door. Theroom was a large one, and when I entered was in total darkness. Ifancied I heard a rustling in the distance, but could see no one. Then, as my eyes got accustomed to the faint light caused by the candle, Iobserved at the further end of the chamber a large four-poster bedstead. I immediately noticed something very curious about it. I turned round tothe old housekeeper. "Did you really say that Mr. Cressley was sleeping in this room?" Iasked. "Yes, sir; he must be in bed some hours ago. I left him in the libraryhunting up old papers, and he told me he was tired and was going to restearly. " "He is not in the bed, " I said. "Not in the bed, sir! Good God!" a note of horror came into the man'svoice. "What in the name of fortune is the matter with the bed?" As the man spoke I rushed forward. Was it really a bed at all? If itwas, I had never seen a stranger one. Upon it, covering it from head tofoot, was a thick mattress, from the sides of which tassels werehanging. There was no human being lying on the mattress, nor was it madeup with sheets and blankets like an ordinary bed. I glanced above me. The posts at the four corners of the bedstead stood like masts. I saw atonce what had happened. The canopy had descended upon the bed. WasCressley beneath? With a shout I desired the old man to come forward, and between us we seized the mattress, and exerting all our force, triedto drag it from the bed. In a moment I saw it was fixed by cords thatheld it tightly in its place. Whipping out my knife, I severed these, and then hurled the heavy weight from the bed. Beneath lay Cressley, still as death. I put my hand on his heart and uttered a thankfulexclamation. It was still beating. I was in time; I had saved him. Afterall, nothing else mattered during that supreme moment of thankfulness. Afew seconds longer beneath that smothering mass and he would have beendead. By what a strange sequence of events had I come to his side justin the nick of time! "We must take him from this room before he recovers consciousness, " Isaid to the old man, who was surprised and horror-stricken. "But, sir, in the name of Heaven, what has happened?" "Let us examine the bed, and I will tell you, " I said. I held up thecandle as I spoke. A glance at the posts was all-sufficient to show mehow the deed had been done. The canopy above, on which the heavymattress had been placed, was held in position by strong cords which ranthrough pulleys at the top of the posts. These were thick and heavyenough to withstand the strain. When the cords were released, thecanopy, with its heavy weight, must quickly descend upon the unfortunatesleeper, who would be smothered beneath it in a few seconds. Who hadplanned and executed this murderous device? There was not a soul to be seen. "We will take Mr. Cressley into another room and then come back, " I saidto the housekeeper. "Is there one where we can place him?" "Yes, sir, " was the instant reply; "there's a room on the next floorwhich was got ready for you. " "Capital, " I answered; "we will convey him there at once. " We did so, and after using some restoratives, he came to himself. Whenhe saw me he gazed at me with an expression of horror on his face. "Am I alive, or is it a dream?" he said. "You are alive, but you have had a narrow escape of your life, " Ianswered. I then told him how I had found him. He sat up as I began to speak, and as I continued my narrative his eyesdilated with an expression of terror which I have seldom seen equalled. "You do not know what I have lived through, " he said at last. "I onlywonder I retain my reason. Oh, that awful room! no wonder men died andwent mad there!" "Well, speak, Cressley; I am all attention, " I said; "you will be thebetter when you have unburdened yourself. " "I can tell you what happened in a few words, " he answered. "You know Imentioned the horrid sort of presentiment I had about coming here atall. That first night I could not make up my mind to sleep in the house, so I went to the little inn at Brent. I received your telegramyesterday, and went to meet you by the last train. When you did notcome, I had a tussle with myself; but I could think of no decent excusefor deserting the old place, and so came back. My intention was to situp the greater part of the night arranging papers in the library. Thedays are long now, and I thought I might go to bed when morning broke. Iwas irresistibly sleepy, however, and went up to my room soon after oneo'clock. I was determined to think of nothing unpleasant, and gotquickly into bed, taking the precaution first to lock the door. I placedthe key under my pillow, and, being very tired, soon fell into a heavysleep. I awoke suddenly, after what seemed but a few minutes, to findthe room dark, for the moon must just have set. I was very sleepy, and Iwondered vaguely why I had awakened; and then suddenly, without warning, and without cause, a monstrous, unreasonable fear seized me. Anindefinable intuition told me that I was not alone--that some horriblepresence was near. I do not think the certainty of immediate death couldhave inspired me with a greater dread than that which suddenly came uponme. I dared not stir hand nor foot. My powers of reason and resistancewere paralysed. At last, by an immense effort, I nerved myself to seethe worst. Slowly, very slowly, I turned my head and opened my eyes. Against the tapestry at the further corner of the room, in the darkshadow, stood a figure. It stood out quite boldly, emanating from itselfa curious light. I had no time to think of phosphorus. It never occurredto me that any trick was being played upon me. I felt certain that I waslooking at my ancestor, Barrington Cressley, who had come back totorture me in order to make me give up possession. The figure was thatof a man six feet high, and broad in proportion. The face was bentforward and turned toward me, but in the uncertain light I could neithersee the features nor the expression. The figure stood as still as astatue, and was evidently watching me. At the end of a moment, whichseemed to me an eternity, it began to move, and, with a slow and silentstep, approached me. I lay perfectly still, every muscle braced, andwatched the figure between half-closed eyelids. It was now within afoot or two of me, and I could distinctly see the face. What was myhorror to observe that it wore the features of my agent Murdock. "'Murdock!' I cried, the word coming in a strangled sound from mythroat. The next instant he had sprung upon me. I heard a noise ofsomething rattling above, and saw a huge shadow descending upon me. Idid not know what it was, and I felt certain that I was being murdered. The next moment all was lost in unconsciousness. Bell, how queer youlook! Was it--was it Murdock? But it could not have been; he was veryill in bed at Liverpool. What in the name of goodness was the awfulhorror through which I had lived?" "I can assure you on one point, " I answered; "it was no ghost. And as toMurdock, it is more than likely that you did see him. " I then told the poor fellow what I had discovered with regard to theagent, and also my firm conviction that Wickham was at the bottom ofit. Cressley's astonishment was beyond bounds, and I saw at first that hescarcely believed me; but when I said that it was my intention to searchthe house, he accompanied me. We both, followed by Mitchell, returned to the ill-fated room; but, though we examined the tapestry and panelling, we could not find thesecret means by which the villain had obtained access to the chamber. "The carriage which brought me here is still waiting just outside thelodge gates, " I said. "What do you say to leaving this place at once, and returning, at least, as far as Carlton? We might spend the remainderof the night there, and take the very first train to Liverpool. " "Anything to get away, " said Cressley. "I do not feel that I can evercome back to Cressley Hall again. " "You feel that now, but by-and-by your sensations will be different, " Ianswered. As I spoke I called Mitchell to me. I desired him to go atonce to the lodge gates and ask the driver of the wagonette to comedown to the Hall. This was done, and half an hour afterwards Cressley and I were on ourway back to Carlton. Early the next morning we went to Liverpool. Therewe visited the police, and I asked to have a warrant taken out for theapprehension of Murdock. The superintendent, on hearing my tale, suggested that we should go atonce to Murdock's house in Melville Gardens. We did so, but it wasempty, Murdock, his wife, and Wickham having thought it best to decamp. The superintendent insisted, however, on having the house searched, andin a dark closet at the top we came upon a most extraordinarycontrivance. This was no less than an exact representation of theagent's head and neck in wax. In it was a wonderfully skilful imitationof a human larynx, which, by a cunning mechanism of clockwork, could bemade exactly to simulate the breathing and low moaning of a human being. This the man had, of course, utilized with the connivance of his wifeand Wickham in order to prove an alibi, and the deception was socomplete that only my own irresistible curiosity could have enabled meto discover the secret. That night the police were fortunate enough tocapture both Murdock and Wickham in a Liverpool slum. Seeing that allwas up, the villains made complete confession, and the whole of theblack plot was revealed. It appeared that two adventurers, the worstform of scoundrels, knew of Cressley's great discovery in WesternAustralia, and had made up their minds to forestall him in his claim. One of these men had come some months ago to England, and while inLiverpool had made the acquaintance of Murdock. The other man, Wickham, accompanied Cressley on the voyage in order to keep him in view, andworm as many secrets as possible from him. When Cressley spoke of hissuperstition with regard to the turret room, it immediately occurred toWickham to utilize the room for his destruction. Murdock proved a readytool in the hands of the rogues. They offered him an enormous bribe. And then the three between them evolved the intricate and subtle detailsof the crime. It was arranged that Murdock was to commit the ghastlydeed, and for this purpose he was sent down quietly to Brent disguisedas a journeyman the day before Cressley went to the Hall. The men hadthought that Cressley would prove an easy prey, but they distrusted mefrom the first. Their relief was great when they discovered that I couldnot accompany Cressley to the Hall. And had he spent the first nightthere, the murder would have been committed; but his nervous terrorsinducing him to spend the night at Brent foiled this attempt. Seeingthat I was returning to Liverpool, the men now thought that they woulduse me for their own devices, and made up their minds to decoy me intoMurdock's bedroom in order that I might see the wax figure, theirobject, of course, being that I should be forced to prove an alibi incase Murdock was suspected of the crime. The telegram which reached meat Prince's Hotel on my return from London was sent by one of theruffians, who was lying in ambush at Brent. When I left Murdock's house, the wife informed Wickham that she thought from my manner I suspectedsomething. He had already taken steps to induce the cab-driver to takeme in a wrong direction, in order that I should miss my train, and itwas not until he visited the stables outside the Prince's Hotel that hefound that I intended to go by road. He then played his last card, whenhe telegraphed to the inn at Carlton to stop the horses. By Murdock'smeans Wickham and his confederate had the run of the rooms at the Hallever since the arrival of Wickham from Australia, and they had rigged upthe top of the old bedstead in the way I have described. There was, needless to say, a secret passage at the back of the tapestry, which wasso cunningly hidden in the panelling as to baffle all ordinary means ofdiscovery. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London. WARWICK HOUSE, SALISBURY SQUARE, LONDON, E. C. 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