has beckoned to me, and I must go,’” he read. Then, with a furtive glance at the lawyer: “Who had beckoned? What did he mean?”
Mr. Brodribb briefly explained the meaning of the allusion, adding: “I thought you knew all about it.”
“Yes, yes,” said Calverley, with some confusion; “I remember the matter now you mention it. But it’s all so dreadful and bewildering.”
At this point I again interposed. “There is a question,” I said, “that may be of some importance. It refers to the cord with which the poor fellow hanged himself. Can you identify that cord, Mr. Calverley?”
“I!” he exclaimed, staring at me, and wiping the sweat from his white face; “how should I? Where is the cord?”
“Part of it is still hanging from the peg in the closet. Would you mind looking at it?”
“If you would very kindly fetch it—you know I—er—naturally—have a—”
“It must not be disturbed before the inquest,” said I; “but surely you are not afraid—”
“I didn’t say I was afraid,” he retorted angrily. “Why should I be?”
With a strange, tremulous swagger, he strode across to the closet, flung open the door, and plunged in.
A moment later we heard a shout of horror, and he rushed out, livid and gasping.
“What is it, Calverley?” exclaimed Mr. Brodribb, starting up in alarm.
But Calverley was incapable of speech. Dropping limply into a chair, he gazed at us for a while in silent terror; then he fell back uttering a wild shriek of laughter.
Mr. Brodribb looked at him in amazement. “What is it, Calverley?” he asked again.
As no answer was forthcoming, he stepped across to the open door of the closet and entered, peering curiously before him. Then he, too, uttered a startled exclamation, and backed out hurriedly, looking pale and flurried.
“Bless my soul!” he ejaculated. “Is the place bewitched?”
He sat down heavily and stared at Calverley, who was still shaking with hysteric laughter; while I, now consumed with curiosity, walked over to the closet to discover the cause of their singular behaviour. As I flung open the door, which the lawyer had closed, I must confess to being very considerably startled; for though the reflection of the open door was plain enough in the mirror, my own reflection was replaced by that of a Chinaman. After a momentary pause of astonishment, I entered the closet and walked towards the mirror; and simultaneously the figure of the Chinaman entered and walked towards me. I had advanced more than halfway down the closet when suddenly the mirror darkened; there was a whirling flash, the Chinaman vanished in an instant, and, as I reached the glass, my own reflection faced me.
I turned back into the room pretty completely enlightened, and looked at Calverley with a new-born distaste. He still sat facing the bewildered lawyer, one moment sobbing convulsively, the next yelping with hysteric laughter. He was not an agreeable spectacle, and when, a few moments later, Thorndyke entered the room, and halted by the door with a stare of disgust, I was moved to join him. But at this juncture a man pushed past Thorndyke, and, striding up to Calverley, shook him roughly by the arm.
“Stop that row!” he exclaimed furiously. “Do you hear? Stop it!”
“I can’t help it, Raggerton,” gasped Calverley. “He gave me such a turn—the mandarin, you know.”
“What!” ejaculated Raggerton.
He dashed across to the closet, looked in, and turned upon Calverley with a snarl. Then he walked out of the room.
“Brodribb,” said Thorndyke, “I should like to have a word with you and Jervis outside.” Then, as we followed him out on to the landing, he continued: “I have something rather interesting to show you. It is in here.”
He softly opened an adjoining door, and we looked into a small unfurnished room. A projecting closet occupied one side of it, and at the door of the closet stood Captain Raggerton, with his hand upon the key. He turned upon us fiercely, though with a look of alarm, and demanded:
“What is the meaning of this intrusion? And who the deuce are you? Do you know that this is my private room?”
“I suspected that it was,” Thorndyke replied quietly. “Those will be your properties in the closet, then?”
Raggerton turned pale, but continued to bluster. “Do I understand that you have dared to break into my private closet?” he demanded.
“I have inspected it,” replied Thorndyke, “and I may remark that it is useless to wrench at that key, because I have hampered the lock.”
“The devil you have!” shouted Raggerton.
“Yes; you see, I am expecting a police-officer with a search warrant, so I wished to keep everything intact.”
Raggerton turned livid with mingled fear and rage. He stalked up to Thorndyke with a threatening air, but, suddenly altering his mind, exclaimed, “I must see to this!” and flung out of the room.
Thorndyke took a key from his pocket, and, having locked the door, turned to the closet. Having taken out the key to unhamper the lock with a stout wire, he reinserted it and unlocked the door. As we entered, we found ourselves in a narrow closet, similar to the one in the other room, but darker, owing to the absence of a mirror. A few clothes hung from the pegs, and when Thorndyke had lit a candle that stood on a shelf, we could see more of the details.
“Here are some of the properties,” said Thorndyke. He pointed to a peg from which hung a long, blue silk gown of Chinese make, a mandarin’s cap, with a pigtail attached to it, and a beautifully-made papier-màché mask. “Observe,” said Thorndyke, taking the latter down and exhibiting a label on the inside, marked “Renouard à Paris,” “no trouble has been spared.”
He took off his coat, slipped on the gown, the mask, and the cap, and was, in a moment, in that dim light, transformed into the perfect semblance of a Chinaman.
“By taking a little more time,” he remarked, pointing to a pair of Chinese shoes and a large paper lantern, “the make-up could be rendered more complete; but this seems to have answered for our friend Alfred.”
“But,” said Mr. Brodribb, as Thorndyke shed the disguise, “still, I don’t understand—”
“I will make it clear to you in a moment,” said Thorndyke. He walked to the end of the closet, and, tapping the right-hand wall, said: “This is the back of the mirror. You see that it is hung on massive well-oiled hinges, and is supported on this large, rubber-tyred castor, which evidently has ball bearings. You observe three black cords running along the wall, and passing through those pulleys above. Now, when I pull this cord, notice what happens.”
He pulled one cord firmly, and immediately the mirror swung noiselessly inwards on its great castor, until it stood diagonally across the closet, where it was stopped by a rubber buffer.
“Bless my soul!” exclaimed Mr. Brodribb. “What an extraordinary thing!”
The effect was
