The Complete Works of Arthur Morrison (Illustrated). Arthur Morrison

it. But it was too late. At the same moment the light was evidently perceived from outside; there was a hurried jump from the steps, and for an instant a sound of running on gravel. Hewitt tore back the bolts, flung the door open, and dashed out into the darkness, leaving Mr. Crellan on the doorstep with the candle.

      Hewitt was gone, perhaps, five or ten minutes, although to Mr. Crellan — standing there at the open door in a state of high nervous tension, and with no notion of what was happening or what it all meant — the time seemed an eternity. When at last Hewitt reached the door again, “What was it?” asked Mr. Crellan, much agitated. “Did you see? Have you caught them?”

      Hewitt shook his head.

      “I hadn’t a chance,” he said. “The wall is low over there, and there’s a plantation of trees at the other side. But I think — yes, I begin to think — that I may possibly be able to see my way through this business in a little while. See this?”

      On the top step in the sheltered porch there remained the wet prints of two feet. Hewitt took a letter from his pocket, opened it out, spread it carefully over the more perfect of the two marks, pressed it lightly and lifted it. Then, when the door was shut, he produced his pocket scissors, and with great care cut away the paper round the wet part, leaving a piece, of course, the shape of a boot sole.

      “Come,” said Hewitt, “we may get at something after all. Don’t ask me to tell you anything now; I don’t know anything, as a matter of fact. I hope this is the end of the night’s entertainment, but I’m afraid the case is rather an unpleasant business. There is nothing for us to do now but to go to bed, I think. I suppose there’s a handy man kept about the place? ”

      “Yes, he’s gardener and carpenter and carpetbeater, and so on.”

      “Good! Where’s his sanctum? Where does he keep his shovels and carpet sticks?”

      “In the shed by the coach house, I believe. I think it’s generally unlocked.”

      “Very good. We’ve earned a night’s rest, and now we’ll have it.”

      The next morning, after breakfast, Hewitt took Mr. Crellan into the study.

      “Can you manage,” he said, “to send Miss Garth out for a walk this morning — with somebody?”

      “I can send her out for a ride with the groom — unless she thinks it wouldn’t be the thing to go riding so soon after her bereavement.”

      “Never mind, that will do. Send her at once, and see that she goes. Call it doctor’s orders; say she must go for her health’s sake — anything.”

      Mr. Crellan departed, used his influence, and in half an hour Miss Garth had gone.

      “I was up pretty early this morning,” Hewitt remarked on Mr. Crellan’s return to the study, “and, among other things, I sent a telegram to London. Unless my eyes deceive me, a boy with a peaked cap — a telegraph boy, in fact — is coming up the drive this moment. Yes, he is. It is probably my answer.”

      In a few minutes a telegram was brought in. Hewitt read it and then asked, —

      “Your friend Mr. Mellis, I understand, was going straight to town yesterday morning?”

      “Yes.”

      “Read that, then.”

      Mr. Crellan took the telegram and read:

      “Mellis did not sleep at chambers last night. Been out of town for some days past. Kerrett.”

      Mr. Crellan looked up.

      “Who’s Kerrett?” he asked.

      “Lad in my office; sharp fellow. You see, Mellis didn’t go to town after all. As a matter of fact, I believe he was nearer this place than we thought. You said he had a disagreement with his uncle because of scientific practices which the old gentleman considered ‘ dangerous and unprofessional,’ I think?”

      “Yes, that was the case.”

      “Ah, then the key to all the mystery of the will is in this room.”

      « Where?”

      “There.” Hewitt pointed to the book-cases. “Read Bernheim’s Suggestive Therapeutics, and one or two books of Heidenhain’s and Bjornstrom’s and you’ll see the thing more clearly than you can without them; but that would be rather a long sort of job, so but why, who’s this? Somebody coming up the drive in a fly, isn’t it?”

      “Yes,” Mr. Crellan replied, looking out of the window. Presently he added, “It’s Cranley Mellis.”

      “Ah,” said Hewitt, “he won’t trouble us for a little. I’ll bet you a penny cake he goes first by himself to the small staircase and tries that secret recess. If you get a little way along the passage you will be able to see him; but that will scarcely matter — I can see you don’t guess now what I am driving at.”

      “I don’t in the least.”

      “I told you the names of the books in which you could read the matter up; but that would be too long for the present purpose. The thing is fairly well summarised, I see, in that encyclopaedia there in the corner. I have put a marker in volume seven. Do you mind opening it at that place and seeing for yourself?”

      Mr. Crellan, doubtful and bewildered, reached the volume. It opened readily, and in the place where it opened lay a blue foolscap envelope. The old gentleman took the envelope, drew from it a white paper, stared first at the paper, then at Hewitt, then at the paper again, let the volume slide from his lap, and gasped, —

      “Why — why — it’s the will! ”

      “Ah, so I thought,” said Hewitt, catching the book as it fell. “But don’t lose this place in the encyclopaedia. Read the name of the article. What is it?”

      Mr. Crellan looked absent-mindedly at the title, holding the will before him all the time. Then, mechanically, he read aloud the word, “Hypnotism.”

      “Hypnotism it is,” Hewitt answered. “A dangerous and terrible power in the hands of an unscrupulous man.”

      “But — but how? I don’t understand it. This — this is the real will, I suppose?”

      “Look at it; you know best.”

      Mr. Crellan looked.

      “Yes,” he said, “this certainly is the will. But where did it come from? It hasn’t been in this book all the time, has it?”

      “No. Didn’t I tell you I put it there myself as a marker? But come, you’ll understand my explanation better if I first read you a few lines from this article. See here now:—

      “’ Although hypnotism has power for good when properly used by medical men, it is an exceedingly dangerous weapon in the hands of the unskilful or unscrupulous. Crimes have been committed by persons who have been hypnotised. Just as a person when hypnotised is rendered extremely impressionable, and therefore capable of receiving beneficial suggestions, so he is nearly as liable to receive suggestions for evil; and it is quite possible for an hypnotic subject, while under hypnotic influence, to be impressed with the belief that he is to commit some act after the influence is removed, and that act he is safe to commit, acting at the time as an automaton. Suggestions may be thus made of which the subject, in his subsequent uninfluenced moments, has no idea, but which he will proceed to carry out automatically at the time appointed. In the case of a complete state of hypnotism the subject has subsequently no recollection whatever of what has happened. Persons whose will or nerve power has been weakened by fear or other similar causes can be hypnotised without consent on their part.’ “There now, what do you make of that?” “Why, do you mean that Miss Garth has been hypnotised by — by — Cranley Mellis? ”

      “I think that is the case; indeed, I am pretty sure of it. Notice, on the occasion of each of his last two visits, he was alone with Miss Garth for some little time. On the evening following each of those visits she does something