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CONTENTS
CHAPTER
INTRODUCTION
I. THE DEATH CHAIR .

II. A VISIBLE SOUND. .
III. THE DIANA SAPPHIRE
IV. EAST OF NORTH .


v. “A HANDFUL OF ASHES” - - - 203
v1. THE SECRET OF THE PRISON HOUSE. 248


THE SANCTUARY CLUB
INTRODUCTION
I AM a man of day-dreams, and a doctor by
profession. It was my lot when about forty
years of age to inherit a large fortune, and I
immediately set to work putting into execution


a design which had long occupied my mind. I -
resolved to leave the thorny and struggling
path, where I had often felt myself in my
brother practitioners’ way, and, buying a large
site of ground in the vicinity of Hampstead,
proceeded to build upon it a goodly mansion.
When the house was completed and the
grounds laid out to the best advantage I took
possession, and now unfolded my scheme to a
brother doctor whom I had long respected and


8 INTRODUCTION
loved. He and I agreed to go into partner-
ship, and, with the aid of some of our younger
brothers of the medical profession, to open
what we were pleased to call the Sanctuary
Club. This was in the spring of 1890.
The rules of the club were as follows: It
was to be opened to men and women of all
ages and classes who chose to fulfil the neces-
sary conditions. These were an entrance fee of
£ 50, a yearly subscription of £10, and the still
more important fact that the person, man or
woman, who intended to become a member,
was the victim of disease in one of its many
forms. The primary object of the club was
to cure maladies that were in any way curable
without sending the patients from England.
This great institution, of which I had dreamed
so long, was for the treatment of all sorts of
disease on a hitherto unattempted scale. Here
my friend Chetwynd and I could put into exe-
cution the boldest and most recent theories that
other medical men, either from lack of means
or courage, could not carry out. One of the
chief features of the place was to be a special
department where the latest and most up-t0-
w»-


INTRODUCTION 9
date scientific theories could be realized, one in
especial being an attempt at the production of
artificial climates.
l had often been struck by the pertinacity
with which my brother doctors had ordered
patients to seek health resorts, either at home
or abroad, when they were far too weak to
travel. Thus some patients were sent to the
sea, others to the neighbourhood of pine forests,
others to high altitudes in order to enjoy the
benefits of mountain air; others again to warm,
others to cold or dry, climates. At the Sanc-
tuary Club we had, by virtue of our modern
scientific knowledge, the means of producing
such conditions artificially. Heat, cold, hu-
midity, dryness, even barometric pressure, or
any other required constituent of the air, were
mere matters of mechanical or chemical detail.
Mineral waters of the exact composition of
those at the springs of home or Continental
Spas could be reproduced in our laboratory.
Every appliance that science or art could sug-
gest for the alleviation of suffering humanity
would be worked by an efficient and well-
qualified staff.


IO INTRODUCTION
This had been my dream for years, and now
with the aid of my friend Henry Chetwynd, it
was about to be realized. From the first our
scheme proved attractive to those unfortunate
members of the community who, suffering as
they were, were only too keen to try a new
thing. Our club opened with a hundred mem-
bers, and before a year had expired we had
nearly three hundred resident patients in the
house.
Those members of the Sanctuary Club who
only suffered from slight maladies could come
occasionally for consultation, and at any time
enjoy the benefit of our large Reading and
Refreshment Rooms, and our carefully-laid-out
and luxurious grounds. But it was the indoor
members, those who lived under our roof, who
excited my keenest, strongest, and most life-
long interest.
Strange cases came to my knowledge, stories
of the most thrilling and absorbing interest fell
to my lot to listen to and sympathize with.
There were cases, and not a few, when it was
my privilege and also my bounden duty to act
not only as doctor but as personal friend. From


INTRODUCTION 11


time to time my brother doctor and I had to
face adventures the most thrilling and dangers
of so hair-breadth a character, that even now
my pulse quickens when I think of them.
The following stories relate some of our most
vivid experiences.


CHAPTER I
THE DEATH CHAIR
LADY HELEN TREVOR was one of the earliest
members of the club. She was a beautiful and
distinguished-looking young woman of about
thirty years of age. She herself belonged to
the noble house of Hampton, but she had
married a commoner of apparently colossal
wealth. She was the Earl of Hampton’s only
daughter, but she had several brothers, and
also two children of her own. The good things
of life seemed to have fallen abundantly to her
share—beauty, riches, and the devoted love of
an excellent husband—but nevertheless she was
a victim. She suffered from an extraordinary
kind of nervousness, which, without ever ap-
proaching the borderland of the insane, caused
I2


THE DEATH CHAIR I3
her sleepless nights and days of apprehension
and misery.
When the first prospectus of the Sanctuary
Club reached her, she eagerly availed herself
of this chance of cure, and was speedily installed
in the most comfortable suite of rooms in the
house. Lady Helen was too courteous and
kind~hearted to inflict her own sufferings on
others; she was full of tact and sympathy, and
soon became a vast favourite in the house. She
could sing beautifully, could lead the games,
make dull people bright and sad people merry,
and in particular attracted the attention of
another member of the club, a certain Sefior
josé Santos, who had also come to the Sanc-
tuary seeking health and cure.
josé Santos lived in a large mansion called
Roe House in the neighbourhood of Wim-
bledon Common, and was said to be not only
very rich, but was also known to possess one
of the finest private collections of art treasures
in England. Sefior Santos and Lady Helen
soon became great friends—they had many
tastes in common, and used to spend hours
talking about those gems of art, those priceless


THE DEATH CHAIR I5
that he had more powerover his patients than I
ever hoped to possess. He was a man of few
words, but his devotion to duty was unflinching
and his indifference to danger almost stoical.
There was little doubt that he was deeply
imbued with the principles of some fine philo-
sophy or faith. Also beneath his sphinx-like
gravity there lurked a vein of rich.humour,
which made him, when he chose to exert
himself, the best of companions.
Now, as he spoke of Sefior Santos he rose
and paced up and down his room.
“ I am sorry that the man has taken a liking
to Lady Helen Trevor,” he said, “but I am
still more disturbed at his friendship for my
own special protégé, john Ingram.”
“Ah! you are devoted to Ingram; you
almost spoil the lad,” I could not help saying.
“ No one could spoil one so simple-minded,”
answered my brother physician; “he is one of
the best fellows I know, and his devotion to his.
mother is beyond all praise.”
“What of his health ?” I said.
“ He is deriving benefit from our treatment,”
said Chetwynd, in a cheerful voice. “The


I6 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
paroxysms of neuralgic agony are much less
frequent than of old—he will quite recover if
he stays here long enough.”
“ By the way,” I said, after a moment’s
pause, “you paid his entrance fee here, did
you not?”
“What if I did ? ” was the somewhat vague
answer.
just then the step of a patient was heard
in the corridor, and I could not pursue the
subject further.
That evening Lady Helen Trevor and Sefior
josé Santos had an eager conversation over
an old casket, called the Catalini Casket, which
had been for years in the Hampton family, and
which Sefior Santos honestly said he would
give the world to possess. Ingram joined in
the talk, and I also was interested by the lady’s
description of the matchless casket, made of an
enormous onyx stone, and richly incrusted with
diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and emeralds.
A few days later these three members of
the club took their departure, all sounding its
praises and promising to visit it again. Lady
Helen returned to her husband and children;


THE DEATH CHAIR I7
Sefior josé Santos to resume the control of his
magnificent museum; and john Ingram, who
was a commission agent in the City, to his
usual employment.
The Sanctuary Club was opened in the early
spring of I890, and it was in the late autumn of
that same year that I next saw Ingram. One
afternoon, between five and six o'clock, he burst
unceremoniously into my consulting-room.
“You must forgive me,” he cried. “Chet-
wynd is out, or I would have seen him, but I
cannot rest until I confide in some one, and you
will tell Chetwynd, I know. The most splendid
luck has fallen in my way. I can scarcely
believe in my own good fortune.”
“Sit down, Ingram,” I said. “Why, how
excited you look ; what can have happened?”
“You know that we are poor, Dr. Cato, and
that but for Chetwynd’s generosity I could
never have afforded to join the club. What
don't I owe to the Sanctuary Club—not only
my recovery to health, but also the acquaint-
anceship of ”—he hesitated and dropped his
voice—-“of those who will make my fortune.
But there, I am under a promise not to mention
B


I8 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
names. Chetwynd may have told you how my
mother looks to me for support—it is one of
my day-dreams to have her to live with me.
Well, I am in a fair way to have that day-
dream realized. I am just about to receive a
commission—5 per cent. on ,{ 7000. That
means jg 3 50, all earned in one day. Think of
that for a novice! ”
“ But how have you done it? ” I asked.
“Ah! that I cannot explain—I am bound to
secrecy, but what I tell you is true I will
call again to-morrow, and, if you like, will show
you the cheque. Yes, I am a made man, for
other commissions will doubtless follow from
the same source. But I cannot stay another
instant. Tell Chetwynd, and wish me luck,
Dr. Cato.”
I did so heartily—I liked the bright-eyed,
happy-looking young fellow, and could not but
rejoice in his unlooked—for prosperity. When
Chetwynd returned I mentioned Ingram’s visit.
To my astonishment the little doctor looked
grave and disturbed.
“I wish I had been at home,” he said. “I
don't like this a. bit. Of course, it means ”


THE DEATH CHAIR I9
“What?” I interrupted.
“The Spaniard has a finger in this pie—I
don't like it, Cato.”
“ Now, what do you mean?” I asked.
“ Sefior josé Santos was far too friendly with
Ingram when they were both here. I distrust
the man thoroughly. There is no doubt that
on some points he is insane—he is also un-
scrupulous, and to attain his ends would stop
at nothing.”
“Oh! you are over-suspicious,” was my
answer. “There is no use in labelling any
man scoundrel until he has proved himself one,
and what the Spaniard has to do with Ingram
beats my comprehension.”
“Why, Paul, are you blind? Who else
would give Ingram a commission of that magni-
rude? Doubtless, when he left here, he was
going to Wimbledon. I don’t like it at all;
what is more, I have a good mind to follow
him."
To this remark I made no reply. I knew
that in certain moods my friend Chetwynd
would brook no interference. If he chose to
follow Ingram on a wild-goose chase, it was his


2o THE SANCTUARY CLUB
own affair. I thought little more of the cir-
cumstance during that evening, being much
engaged with some anxious cases. Little did
I guess the next news which was to reach me.
About ten o’clock the following morning Chet-
wynd burst into my room. His face was white,
and his big, queer-looking eyes were shining
with a curious expression. He spoke very
quietly, however.
“I was right in my conjectures,” he said, and
he dropped into a chair.
“What do you mean ?” I cried.
“Ingram is dead.”
“What?” I answered, springing to my
feet.
“Yes—he was found dead this morning on
Wimbledon Common. The following are the
details.” Chetwynd spoke in an almost mono-
tonous voice, but I knew with what an effort
he was keeping himself under control.
“You remember my words of last night?
When I went to bed I could not sleep. Each
moment I felt more fearful and uncomfortable.
Finally I resolved to go to Wimbledon as soon
as the day broke. I cycled over, and went


THE DEATH CHAIR 21

in the direction of the Spaniard’s place, Roe
House. When I got within three hundred
yards of the house I saw a crowd collected. I
went up to them. They were clustered round
john Ingram’s dead body. The poor fellow
had been found by one of the rangers. He
was lying about three hundred yards from one of
the main roads, beside a clump of gorse bushes.
The man gave the alarm, and the police,
when they arrived, said that he must have
wandered or been decoyed off the road and
murdered. But the point which astonishes and
horrifies every one is the merciless and brutal
character of the murder. The assailant must
have been possessed of superhuman strength,
for Ingram had evidently been hurled to the
ground with the utmost violence. Indeed, his
injuries were so extensive and his fractures so
numerous, that it seems almost impossible that
the murder was the work of any one human
being. Another strange thing is that there are
no marks round the spot to give evidence of a
struggle. It is all most horrible. I C&nI101l
understand it.”
"D0 you still hold to your queer opinions


22 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
with regard to Sefior Santos ? ” I asked, when
I could find my voice.
“I do and I don’t. The whole thing is
inexplicable: unless he threw the poor fellow
from a balloon, I have not the slightest idea
how he killed him. Well, Ingram is dead past
recall. I pity his poor mother. I wish to God
I had gone to Wimbledon last night.”
I started up.
“I will go to Wimbledon myself,” I said.
“ I cannot rest until I know more.”
Chetwynd said nothing to dissuade me—he
looked queer and unlike himself. I took the
next train to town, and arrived at the scene
of the murder in the course of the morning.
Poor Ingram’s body had been removed, in
preparation for the coroner’s inquest, to the
nearest inn. I was admitted to see him, and
heard the opinions of many experts who had
been called in. One and all denied that the
murder was the work of a human being, though
they frankly admitted that they could offer
no suggestion as an alternative argument. I
personally could give no information‘ except a
report of Ingram’s last words to me on the


THE DEATH CHAIR 23
previous day. Suddenly it flashed through my
mind that I would call upon Sefior josé Santos
and tell him the whole story. He had been
interested in Ingram. If Chetwynd’s surmise
was right, he had something to do with the
large commission which the poor fellow was
to earn. Roe House was situated on the
edge of the Common. The house itself was
large and built in the modern style. It was
surrounded by private grounds, and there
were thick trees growing up almost to the front
doon
I rang the bell. It was answered immediately
by a demure-looking, elderly servant in livery.
In reply to my query he told me that his master
was within, and invited me to enter. I was
shown into a lofty dining-room sumptuously
furnished. I was in no mood, however, to
notice the antique oak and rare vases of old
Sevres and Chelsea porcelain which decorated
the walls. The Spaniard entered. He held
out his hand with a pleasant greeting.
“ It is kind of you to call, Dr. Cato,” he said.
“ I’m pleased to see you.”
“ I have come,” I answered, “ not only to see


24 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
you, sefior, but to acquaint you with a painful
affair.”
“ What is that ? ” he asked.
“You remember Ingram—that nice young
fellow whom you were so kind to when staying
at the Sanctuary in the spring?”
“I remember him perfectly.”
“ I have just seen his dead body."
_Iosé Santos started, and his swarthy face
turned pale.
“Ingram dead?" he cried, after a pause;
“that accounts. But I am interrupting you,
Dr. Cato ; when and how did he die?”
“He was found this morning three hundred
yards from your gate, injured almost past
recognition, dead, foully murdered.”
Santos was quite silent for a moment; then
he said, slowly—
“And you have called here because you
thought this news would interest me ? ”
“I called for a double reason,” I replied.
“First, because your friendship for the poor
fellow entitled you to know of his death, and
partly because I hoped that you might be able
to throw light on a ghastly occurrence.”


THE DEATH CHAIR 25
“I did not murder him, if that is what you
mean,” answered Santos.
“If I thought that I should scarcely have
asked to see you,” was my reply.
He laughed.
“My dear fellow, forgive an unseemly joke.
The fact is, your news has unnerved me.
Unfortunately, I can throw what will be a very
lurid light on this affair. But tell me first—have
“I saw him last evening. He came to bring
Chetwynd and myself an excellent piece of news.
A friend, whose name he would not divulge,
had given him a magnificent commission—he
was nearly beside himself with joy.”
“He would not give you the name of his
friend?”
.' \,__*_.~‘ ,—'


26 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
telegram from him yesterday, which I can show
you, saying that he had secured the necklace
for my figure, and would bring it to me in the
course of the evening. I waited up for him
until past midnight; he did not appear, and I
went to bed.”
“Then you never received the necklace ? ”
“ No.”
“ This is most important. Of course, the
poor fellow was robbed and murdered, for there
was nothing of value on his person. The coroner
is probably now at the Sign of the Dragon;
will you come with me?”
“Willingly,” answered Sefior Santos. He put
on his hat and accompanied me. His evidence
was given quietly. It, of course, supplied a
motive for the murder ; but how the deed was
accomplished, how the murderers got away,
and where the celebrated necklace now was,
remained wrapped in mystery.
Time went on and nothing transpired to
throw light upon the occurrence. Everything
conceivable was done, the most unlikely clues
followed up, but the police had at last to confess
that they were nonplussed.


THE DEATH CHAIR 27
One afternoon, towards the end of the follow-
ing May, I was walking in my grounds when I
was attracted by the arrival of a cab just outside
the principal entrance. A tall lady, in deep
mourning, but rather shabbily dressed, got out
and walked up the drive. She paused when
she saw me, hesitated, and then raising her
eyes, said-
“Am I addressing Dr. Paul Cato?”
“That is my name,” I answered; “is there
anything I can do for you ? ”
“I am Mrs. Ingram,” was her reply. “You
knew my son and were kind to him. May I
speak to you in private for a few moments ? ”
“Certainly,” I said, much interest coming
into my voice. I took the lady immediately
into my private study. Closing the door, I
asked her to seat herself.
“I knew your son well,” I remarked, “and
took a deep interest in him. His death has
caused me the greatest pain.”
She raised her hand to interrupt my words.
“ I beg of you to allude as little as possible to
personal feelings in this matter,” she said. “ It
is with an effort I can keep my grief under


28 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
control, and I do not mean—I am determined
not—to give way.”
Her face changed from red to white as she
spoke and her lips trembled. After a moment,
however, she spoke very quietly.
“I want to talk business with you--do you
understand ? ”
“Perfectly,” I said.
“ It is my intention to trace this murder to its
source. I have come here for the purpose. I
would have seen you before, Dr. Cato, but after
the shock of my son’s death I was ill. A blank
surrounds that dreadful time—I had fever and,
luckily for myself, was unconscious. I have now
recovered, and have one object left in life. I
mean to bring the man who deprived my boy of
his young existence to the gallows.”
“My hand on it, madam,” I could not help
saying—“ your wish is mine.”
“ Thank you,” she answered. A sudden fire
filled her dark eyes, the colour rushed into her
cheeks. '
“If that object can be effected I shall die
happy,” she continued. “ Now may I ask you
one or two questions ? ”


THE DEATH CHAIR 29
“As many as you please.”
“ Will you give me, quietly and impartially,
an exact account of the murder—the appearance
of the body when it was found, where it was
found, and everything else ? ”
I complied—I told the mother of the mur-
dered man the whole sad history. She would
not allow me to shirk anything, nor did I try to.
When I had done she said-


“My son knew Sefior ]osé Santos. The ‘
sefior lives on Wimbledon Common. His
house is called Roe House. My son wrote ~ ll .
to me constantly about him : the Spaniard had
evidently attracted him to a remarkable degree.
How far from the spot where the body was
found is the residence of Sefior Santos? ”
“The body was found about three hundred ‘I I I,
yards from Roe House,” was my reply.
, I ,.
“Ah,” she said, “I thought as much. Has I
no one seen Sefior Santos in connection with 34
the murder?” "lll l
“I visited him immediately afterwards. He in. i
told me that he had commissioned your son to I
buy him a valuable necklace. He ex ected '| P ' . 1.
your son to visit him on the evening when the ~|


30 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
murder was committed in order to hand him
over the necklace, when your son was to receive
his commission, a sum amounting to £350.
Ingram never reached Roe House, and beyond
doubt the murderer absconded with the neck-
lace.”
“So that is Sefior Santos’s story,” replied Mrs.
Ingram, very slowly. “Will you listen to me?
I have every reason to believe-—-nay more, I am
certain of the fact—that my son did visit Sefior
josé Santos on the evening of the day on
which he was murdered, and did hand him over
the necklace. I have more than one reason for
the very firm opinion which I have formed.
In the first place, Santos is not a man of
honour.”
“ Now, what can you mean? ” I said.
“He commissioned my son to purchase a
valuable necklace, telling him that he might
bid as high as £7000 for it. My son was
to bring him the necklace, and on receipt of it
he was to be paid £7000 and his own com-
mission of 5 per cent. My son, reckless with
joy at the thought of securing so large a sum,
had borrowed the £7000 from a dealer in order


THE DEATH CHAIR 31
to go to Christie’s to pay for the necklace. On
my son’s murder, this dealer, Robertson by
name, applied to Sefior Santos to restore the
money, declaring that the order was practically
his, and that he ought to make good the loss.
Sefior Santos absolutely declined to pay one
penny.”
“And how has the debt been met?” I asked.
“By me, Dr. Cato. All I possess in the
world of ready capital has been raised to clear
my son’s honour. I have paid Mr. Robertson
to the last farthing. I have now nothing in
the world to live on but a small annuity, which I
inherited from my husband, of £50 a year.”
I felt my heart beat high with indignation.
There was nothing to say, however, and the
widow proceeded—
“My other reason for believing that there
has been foul play is on account of a dream,
a curious and very vivid dream which I had.”
“Indeed,” I said, gravely. I naturally did
not believe in dreams, but the face of the
woman opposite to me, in its intense and tragic
earnestness, forbade a smile.
“I can guess something of your thought,


i,_‘,,a. ;
.. _ -, ...,




._ A . -. ;
_..
'--.-.-.i,.,
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32 . THE SANCTUARY CLUB
Dr. Cato,” she continued, “but there are dreams
which have elements of truth in them. Let me
tell you mine. On the night when my boy
was murdered, I dreamt that he visited josé
Santos at Roe House, that he gave the Spaniard
the pearl necklace, and sat with him for a time
on the wide veranda of his house.”
“I did not know the house had a veranda!”
I exclaimed.
“ In my dream I saw a veranda with great
distinctness. It was on the second floor. This
veranda was inclosed by a stone balustrade,
and there were several deck chairs about and
some small, round tables. My son and Sefior
Santos sat there together that night and smoked.
My dream was so vivid that I could almost
hear what they were saying, and I noticed the
expression on the Spaniard’s face. I tell you,
Dr. Cato, it was diabolical. I would have seen
you before on the subject of my dream but for
my queer illness. That dream was not sent to
me for nothing.”
“ Go on,” I said, “ what followed? You say
you heard Santos speak and you saw his face.
What came next?”
If .4‘


THE DEATH CHAIR 33


“Nothing,” she replied; “a great blackness
fell over me—I no longer saw the figures on
the veranda. I awoke struggling for breath
and screaming. I do not know any more.”
“Then owmg to your dream you are under
the impression that Santos is connected with
me. Chetwynd would doubtless have shared
her suspicions, but I could scarcely give
credence to her story. Because a woman
“This,” she replied instantly—“I want you


34 THE SANCTUARY CLUB


to go and see the Spaniard. I cannot go my-
self, for the moment he saw me he would be on
his guard. Pay him a friendly visit, and find
out if there is such a veranda to the house as I
have just described. Get him to talk about my
son: watch him closely. If you will do this for
me, it is all I ask. He does not suspect you ;
will you go, and at once ?”
“ I have not the slightest objection to visiting
Sefior Santos,” I said, after a pause, “and if it
will relieve your mind I will call upon him.”
“Then go now, this afternoon—there is no
time to lose.”
Her wild words impelled me. I had nothing
special to do, and started off for Wimbledon
within the hour. I was admitted to Santos’s
presence. He received me quietly and with his
usual courtesy.
“I am delighted to see you, Dr. Cato,” he
said. “I was just writing to you.”
“What about? ” I asked.
“ I want to pay a visit to the Sanctuary next
week. I am not well ; some of my old painful
symptoms have re-appeared. Chetwynd had
a soothing influence over me—his treatment


THE DEATH CHAIR 35


served me marvellously. Can you take me in
next week?” ,, .
“With pleasure,” I answered, “but I am It ~
sorry you are feeling indisposed.” l
“Ithas been coming on gradually. Chetwynd *,:' ‘Ii. 1
will soon restore me to my normal health. By \ '
the way, you don’t look too well yourself, Dr. Cato. You have quite a haggard look in your . .
eyes. You take poor Ingram’s murder to ' Vi
heart. That will never do. By the way, has
affair since I saw you last ? ”
“None whatever,” I answered.
“ Ah,” he said, looking thoughtful ; “it is one ’ F
of those mysteries which will not be revealed I if
until the Day of judgment. Now that you It 2
have come, doctor, I shall insist on your dining I i,
with me.” 2, I thought for amoment, and then determined to accept the invitation. Sefior Santos rang his
bell and gave directions to a servant who jI".";,. -
_
appeared. Not long afterwards he and I found L j ,
ourselves seated at a little oval table in the big i i dining-room. As we ate my host talked well I and brilliantly. Certainly he was an interesting l Ii, ll


"‘-*s"---... .
36 TH E SANCTUARY CLUB
man, and his knowledge of art treasures was
extensive.
The meal lasted for over an hour, and during
that time I had almost forgotten Mrs. Ingram,
her curious dream, and her nameless suspicions.
The dream, however, and the suspicions were
revived when Santos said, in a hearty voice—
“The night is fine—let us go up and smoke
on the veranda.”
“ The veranda l ” I could not help exclaiming.
“Yes, have I not shown it to you? It is
one of the specialities of my house. I had it
built according to my own ideas. On the
hottest day in summer you get a breeze there,
andl generally smoke my last Havana there
before retiring to rest ; but come.”
As he spoke he led the way up-stairs, and,
opening a door on the second floor, just as the
widow had described in her dream, we entered
an extensive veranda. As I looked at it I
could not help starting. It was inclosed by a
stone balustrade, upon which were fixed by
uprights iron rails which ran round it. There
were several deck-chairs, just as the widow had
mentioned, and there were also some small,


.. yin-I-1‘. n.- nil
-
THE DEATH CHAIR 37
round tables. The night was starlit and warm.
As I seated myself in a comfortable deck-chair
and lit a cigar I noticed that my host was list-
less ‘and silent.
A sudden impulse came over me.
“Do you know,” I said, watching him nar-
rowly as I spoke, “that I had an interview
to-day of a somewhat painful nature.”
“ Indeed,” he replied. _
“With no less a person than Mrs. Ingram,
the mother of the poor fellow who was murdered.
She told me of a dream she had had. She
dreamt that you and her son were seated on
this balcony.”
“Ah,” he said, impatiently, “we never sat
here. I often meant to have him to dine with
me. On that one eventful night I waited long
for him, but he never came. I could not ac-
count for his non-appearance.” The Spaniard
spoke softly and with much sadness in his
tone.
“There is one thing, Sefior Santos,” I said,
suddenly; “you will forgive me, but perhaps
y0u do not realize that Mrs. Ingram is a poor
woman. Her son borrowed £7000 to buy


38 THE SANCTUARY CLUB


that necklace for you. Is it fair that she should
have to pay it back?”
In a moment he had turned upon me, his
whole face distorted with the most livid
passion.
“Why do you interfere?” he said; “you
had much better not. My God! If you only
knew! I will pay that woman the ,6 7000 in
full when I get the necklace, not before. Tell
her to move heaven and earth to get it back
for me, and she shall be paid then in full, every
farthing, but not before—my God! I have spoken
—12ot before.” '
His voice quivered, he suddenly left my side
and began to stride rapidly up and down the
veranda—there was almost the ring of a mad-
man in his tones. I saw I had gone too far,
and was about to soothe him when he sud-
denly came back and spoke in his accustomed
voice.
“ I told you that my nerves were giving way
—there are moments when I can scarcely con-
tain myself. I must come to the Sanctuary
as quickly as possible and put myself under
Chetwynd’s treatment.”


THE DEATH CHAIR 39
“And I will not keep you longer now,” I
said. “ I have tired you.”
“You have upset me,” he said, brusquely.
“Forgive me for being rough, but there are
some things I cannot bear. Well, if you must
go—you must.”
A few moments later I had taken my leave
of him.
As soon as I entered the Sanctuary on my
return, I was greeted by Chetwynd.
“ I want to speak to you,” he said. There
was some slight excitement in his manner. I
noticed it.
“You will be interested to hear,” I remarked,
“that I have just been paying a visit to our old
patient, josé Santos. You ought to go and see
him—Roe House is worth visiting.”
“Ah,” replied Chetwynd, “you know my
opinion of that man, Cato. Come with me
into my private consulting-room, won’t you?
I have something to say.”
I went with him. He turned at once and
Spoke to me about Mrs. Ingram.
“I have seen her,” he said; “she told me
that she had asked you to visit Sefior Santos.


40 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
She also mentioned her most extraordinary
dream.”
“ I said I would try to verify it for her,” was
my remark.
“ Have you done so?”
“ Strange to say, Chetwynd, I have—at least
the part in which she describes the veranda.
It is there, and just as she spoke of it, but
doubtless the thing can be explained. Ingram
must have mentioned it to her in one of his
many letters.”
Chetwynd was silent.
“By the way,” I continued, after a pause,
“you will have to put up with Sefior Santos,
whether you like him or not. Next week he
is coming here again.”
“The old symptoms?” asked my brother
doctor.
“ He complains of them.”
“That man will end in an asylum,” said
Chetwynd, briefly. “ I am sorry he is coming
back.”
“I could not refuse him admission to his
own club,” I answered.
“Of course not. By the way, we seem to


THE DEATH CHAIR 41
be doomed to have old patients back again. I
have just received a letter from Lady Helen
Trevor; she arrives to-morrow.”
“Indeed,” I said, “she was a very pleasant
visitor ; we ought to be glad to welcome her.”
“ By the way,” said Chetwynd, quietly,
“Sefior Santos may not find things so pleasant
as he imagines at the Sanctuary Club. Did
I tell you that Mrs. Ingram is coming here also
to-morrow ? ”
“Indeed, but how ? She is not a member.”
“She comes as my guest. You remember
that you and I always have the privilege of
asking guests here from time to time.”
“Certainly, but are you acting wisely in
extending this invitation to a hysterical
woman?”
“You are hard on her, Cato, and also unjust.
Mrs. Ingram possesses absolute self-control.
Her mind is perfectly balanced ; and as to her
dream—well, think what you like of me, old
fellow, but I believe in it.”
I could say nothing further. In certain
moods it was impossible to control Chetwynd-
he was determined to saddle a foul crime upon
_ . ...- . - . .. -4-. . ,._.--_ - - - -r- J n-w.-.\I -


42 THE SANCTUARY CLUB


Sefior Santos, and what the end would be
remained shrouded in mystery.
The next day Lady Helen arrived. She
looked older than when I had last seen her, and
there was evidently a very serious care weigh-
ing upon her mind. On the first evening of
her visit she spoke to me.
“I have not forgotten the gentleman who
was an inmate of this house when I was last
here,” she said.
“Do you refer to Sefior josé Santos?” I
asked.
“ Yes,” she replied.
“You are likely to meet him again. He is
coming back next week.”
“ Indeed,” she answered. She looked pleased
and relieved. Looking full at me she said,
suddenly, “I want to take you into my confi-
dence—may I ?”
“ If I can be of use to you, I shall be pleased
to listen to anything you have got to say,” was
my answer.
“Well, it is this. At the present moment
I am sorely in want of money—a good sum,
too.”


THE DEATH CHAIR 43
“But I thought your husband was a.
millionaire? ”
“He is rich, no doubt, but not quite so rich
as people give him credit for. In the present
matter, however, it is impossible for me to
apply to him. Now, I must get the money
—£50oo-—as soon as possible, and it has
occurred to me that Sefior Santos can help me.
I mean to ask him for his aid.”
“I wish you would not,” I could not help
. saying.
She opened her eyes wide in some surprise.
“ I must,” she said; “my need is very press-
ing; in fact, Imay as well own to you that I
have come to the Sanctuary Club more in the
hope of meeting Sefior Santos than anything
else.”
I stared at her in some surprise. I did not
like to press more fully for her confidence, but
what did she mean? She was young and hand-
some—what could she have in common with a
man of the Spaniard’s type?
The next week the sefior arrived. He was
gentle and courteous, his friendship with Lady
Helen was quickly renewed, and, to my aston-
..-,. - . . cw.


44 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
ishment, he also took special pains to be polite
to Mrs. Ingram. That strange woman by no
means repelled his attentions. On the con-
trary, she often sought him out, and they had
long and interesting conversations together.
The days passed without anything special
occurring. At last, on a certain morning, Lady
Helen came to see me.
“ Will you help me ? ” she said, impulsively ;
“if you will, I can get what I require.”
“What do you want me to do ? ” I asked.
“ Sefior Santos has promised to advance me
a loan of £5000 on a condition.”
“ And what is that? ” I asked.
She made a slight pause; her large brown
eyes were full of restlessness.
“I must give you my full confidence,” she
said then. “ I want the money for my brother
—my favourite youngest brother. He has got
into terrible trouble—he is reckless, defiant of
the ordinary rules of society. He has always
been something of a spoilt darling. When my
mother died she left him in my care. He has
got into debt. My husband is jealous of my
great love for him, and will not help him with


THE DEATH CHAIR 45
so much as a pound. Something must be done
immediately, so I am determined to come to
the rescue. If I can get £ 5000 from Sefior
Santos, my brother’s most pressing debts will
be paid, and he will be saved.”
“What is the condition on which he will
lend you the money?” I asked.
She came a little nearer and dropped her
voice.
“You know the sefior’s passion for curios of
all sorts?” she said. “ I-lave you ever heard
me speak of a casket which we hold in my
father’s family? It is called the Catalini Casket
—it has belonged to us for four hundred years.
When I married, my father gave it to me as my
wedding present, but on a condition, a solemn
one, that I was never to part with it. I did
not intend to break that condition, but my
present need is too great. I am going, not
to sell the casket, but to borrow money on it.
Sefior Santos will lend me ,{ 5000 if I give
him the casket as security. He returns home
to-day.”
“So soon?” I interrupted.
“Yes. He says the uncomfortable symptoms


.‘- L-<-n- C

-qqlq
...>-.
46 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
which brought him here have quite disappeared,
and he is anxious to be home again. I am
also going back to Yorkshire this afternoon, but
will return early to-morrow with the casket. I
want you to take the Catalini Casket to Sefior
Santos to-morrow night, and to bring me back
the money. He will pay me in gold, not by
cheque—I have asked him to do this in order
to insure my husband never knowing of the
transaction.”
“ But why should I be your messenger?”
“It is by the sefior’s special request. He
says that he has made a rule never to admit
a woman into Roe House. Oh, you will not
refuse me? If you will help me in this matter
I will bless you to the longest day of my life.”
She spoke with passion; there were tears
in her eyes; her voice trembled. Perhaps
Chetwynd might have refused her, but I found
it impossible to do so.
“I don’t like it,” I said. “I will say so
frankly, but, of course, I cannot decline to be
your messenger.”
“Thank you,” she answered; “you cannot
understand what a relief this is to me. I will


THE DEATH CHAIR 47
go and tell Sefior Santos immediately—he will
be pleased—he is most anxious to secure the
casket, and says quite openly and frankly that
he does not believe I shall ever be able to
redeem it.”
“And under such circumstances are you
willing to part with such a treasure?” I asked.
“I must,” she replied; “I have no choice.”
She left the room, and a couple of moments
later ]osé Santos himself knocked at the door
of my room.
“Come in,” I said.
“So you are going to help Lady Helen?” he
remarked, closing the door softly behind him.
“I am very much obliged to you, very much
obliged indeed. Now listen. I have not been
here for the last two or three days for nothing.
That poor woman, Mrs. Ingram, has impressed
me favourably. I cannot part with ,{ 7000 for
a valuable necklace which I never received, but
I will let her have half the money, and whenever
the necklace is traced and brought to me, she
shall have the remainder. If you will bring
the Catalini Casket to my house to-morrow
night, you shall have in gold and notes the


48 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
money which Lady Helen requires, and also a
cheque drawn in Mrs. Ingram’s favour.”
I thanked him heartily. I did not remark
then, although it occurred to me afterwards,
that as he spoke he avoided looking at me.
“I am glad you are better,” I said.
“Much better—in fact, I am quite well. I
am restless away from my treasures, and am
going back to them to-day.” He walked to the
window as he spoke, and I saw him rubbing his
hands together as though some thought was
pleasing him very much.
“You are in good spirits,” I said.
“ Who would not be at the thought of securing
so matchless and celebrated a casket?”
“Indeed,” I answered; “I know nothing
about these things.”
“ If you had ever studied the subject of art
treasures, Dr. Cato, you must have heard of
this special casket. It is formed out of one
enormous onyx, on which are two priceless
cameos, and around the lid rubies, diamonds,
emeralds, sapphires, all of enormous value, are
richly embedded. The casket was fought for,
struggled for, and lost again and again as far


THE DEATH CHAIR 49
got into the Hampton family remains amystery.
It will be mine now.”
“But surely Lady Helen will redeem it ? ”
“Never,” he said, softly. He came up to
me almost on tiptoe, held out his hand, said
good-bye, and left me.
That evening, before retiring to rest, I had a
word or two with Chetwynd.
“ I want to ask you a straight question,” I said.
“Sefior Santos has been your patient once
again: do you still suspect him of foul play in
the matter of Ingram?”
He did not answer for a moment; then he
said, slowly—
“I would rather not speak of my suspicions.
I have just come from a long interview with
Mrs. Ingram ; she interests me profoundly.”
“Well, I have something to say,” I continued.
“I am going to visit the Spaniard at Roe House
to-morrow evening. I have been commissioned
to execute some business for him.”
“The deuce you have!” he cried, springing
to his feet. “Are you mad?”
“I hope not; and, by the way, the man’s
D


. . -1 .-.,--,:.
50 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
visit here has not been without fruit. He
has promised to refund Mrs. Ingram some of
the money which her son paid for the neck-
lace.”
Chetwynd looked grave and anxious.
“I wish you would not go to Roe House,”
he said, earnestly.
I laughed.
“ Really, Chetwynd,” I answered, “I shall
begin to think your own nerves are out of
order.”
He was silent for a moment, then he said,
Slowly-
“ Notwithstanding my duties as doctor here,
I have toiled over the strange case of the
murder of john Ingram almost day and night,
and I now hold a theory too fantastic to divulge.
This theory is founded on a single point. It is
this: As I looked at poor Ingram’s dead body
that morning last autumn, I saw adhering to
his coat a good many pine-needles and twigs.
Now, the only fir trees anywhere near stand in
the inclosure surrounding Sefior Santos’s house.
This looked to me as if Ingram must have
climbed a fir tree, for he could not have got the


THE DEATH CHAIR 51
' 1..-. - .—w‘.ar..~:¢;.-;'-'-..T-:.--=>';--- -
needles on him unless he had been among the
small branches.”
“Climbed a fir tree? What on earth for?”
I asked.
“Ah! that remains to be answered. Now
listen, Cato. Have you made up your mind to
visit Roe House? ”
“ Certainly.”
“In spite of my telling you frankly that I
consider there is an element of danger in your
visit?”
“ In spite of your friendly warning.”
“Then I will cease to urge you not to go.
On the contrary, I consider that your visit may
be of the utmost use to me. Go and do exactly
what Santos asks you. If he requests you to
dine to-morrow night, humour him. I shall
also go to Wimbledon to-morrow ; we will force
his hand.”


. -...__.-.- . .
-gg
, . ..
52 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
“Not murdered on the common? But he
was found there. How did he get there?”
“ That,” replied Chetwynd, “is what you and
I have got to discover, and to-morrow night,
too. It is a risk—are you prepared to run
it?”
“I certainly am. Chetwynd, I am sorry for
you; you are bitten by a craze—a craze to
discover what never can be discovered on
earth.”
“We will soon know,” was his ambiguous
answer.
Lady Helen returned with the casket and
put it into my hands, and punctually at eight
o’clocl< on the following evening I arrived at
Roe House, carrying the treasure with me.
The moment I rang the bell the door was
opened by josé Santos himself.
“Well,” he cried eagerly, “have you got
it?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Capital. Come into my study. You have
done well.”
We both entered. I took the precious casket
out of. its wrappings and gave it to him. He


THE DEATH CHAIR 53
went over to the nearest window and examined
it carefully. I noticed a queer smile of avarice
on his features.
“You will dine? ” he said, looking at me.
“If you wish it,” I answered.
“That is right. I have not yet received the
necessary notes and gold from the bank. I
sent a special messenger for them early to-day.
They will come, doubtless, in the course of the
evening. Lady Helen specially stipulated to
be paid in gold and notes. Of course, in a
case of this kind one must submit to the
caprices of a woman, and the money will be
here by the time we have done dinner.”
“My time is yours,” I answered; “I have
nothing special to hurry me back.”
“Good, very good. It is a delightful sum-
mer’s evening—we shall enjoy ourselves on the
veranda afterwards. May I take you to a room
now to wash your hands?”
I was somewhat surprised at his acting as his
own servant. The house, too, seemed silent
and deserted. In a few moments we were
seated before a sumptuous cold repast in the
dining-room.


54 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
“I hate your hot English dinners,” said
Santos, apologetically; “besides, it means
keeping a lot of servants around one. Now,
my wants are few, and it is so much more
convenient to wait on ourselves than having
chattering servants overhearing every word one
says.”
The sefior spoke in a quick, nervous way,
and there was a gleam in his eyes which I had
noticed with more or less apprehension when he
was suffering from his worst attacks at the
Sanctuary. Suddenly, as I sat before that
dinner table, some of the fears which had in-
fected Chetwynd began to visit me. I lost my
appetite. I wished myself anywhere than where
I was. Santos was a stronger man than I : of
more muscular and more physical power. Should
occasion demand it, the strength of a madman
might be his. Beyond doubt he was the victim
of incipient insanity. His conversation as dinner
proceeded took a strange turn. He talked of
himself in a most confidential way.
Suddenly he rose.
“ How hot the night is,” he said ; “ shall we
finish our dessert on the veranda ? ”


THE DEATH CHAIR 55 t
“With pleasure,” I answered. “ But I hope 1 ,
your messenger will soon come with the notes, l - I Santos, for I want to return to Hampstead if i
before it is too late.”
“He ought to arrive at any moment—we
will wait for him on the veranda. Come, let
me show you the way.” I
He led me up-stairs, and we entered the large I
veranda which Mrs. Ingram had so faithfully I
described in her dream. It was a beautiful . ‘--
l
|


starlit night and perfectly warm. /, .,
“Take that chair,” said the sefior. He 1
pointed to one of the deck-chairs as he spoke.
I seated myself and lit a cigar. My host also
smoked silently. We were both quiet, drinking
in the peace and beauty of the night. At last I if
Santos stirred restlessly, and said, in an abrupt
tone—
“It is strange how one’s memory reverts to
by-gone events. Now, I hate even to think of ‘
poor Ingram, and yet I never come to this veranda but thoughts of him return to me. By ll I
the way, how far away from here did you tell
me his body was found ? ”
“ Not three hundred yards,” I answered. ;
it ii _. ;_


 _ n| .~ 3
.-
.-- .. L. .-.._.._...
56 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
“Strange, strange. Have you any special
theory with regard to the murder? ”
“ No,” I replied, “but my friend Chetwynd
has.”
“Ha!” he answered; “and doubtless that
most interesting lady, Mrs. Ingram, also holds
a theory of her own. I must not forget that I
am to send her a cheque by you to-night. I
would never wish to be hard on women, although
I hate them all. By the way, Cato, do you
know that I believe that woman, in some queer,
unfathomable, impossible way, suspects me—me
—of the murder of Ingram ? ”
“ Nonsense,” I answered.
He started to his feet.
“I don’t think it nonsense, nor does she.
But I believe I heard a ring—that must be the
messenger with the notes and gold. I will let
him in.”
It struck me, as Sefior Santos said this, that
he must have extraordinary ears, for I had
certainly heard no bell ring. He left the veranda
quickly. I sat on in my comfortable chair. I
heard the sound of his retreating footsteps dying
away, and then everything was quiet except for





'r*



“‘ Get out of that chair "'
[Page 57
The Szmctuary Club]


THE DEATH CHAIR 57
the stirring of a slight breeze in the top of the
dark fir trees. I was relieved that Santos was
no longer by my side. If the man were not
mad he was next door to it: his words during
my visit had been more than strange, and there
was a light in his eyes which I had seen before,
but never in those of a sane person. Should I
leave the veranda, go down-stairs, and make
my escape? Was I really in danger? I could
have easily gone away, but Lady Helen had
trusted me with her commission, and the casket
was in the Spaniard’s possession. I must not
leave the house without the ,6 5000 which was
to be Lady Helen’s in exchange for the Catalini
Casket. I must also try to get the cheque
which the man had promised Mrs. Ingram. I
was still lying back in my chair when a moving
shadow cast by a lamp in the room behind me
suddenly spread across the veranda. I started
and turned. Great heavens! It was Chet-
wynd himself! He rushed towards me, his
eyes alight with terror, his voice hoarse with
fear.
“For God’s sake, Paul, get out of that chair,”
he cried ; “jump for your life.”

,-.-
- --._-3-|----.---.;-.,¢;~¢
. ... . J
.,I-


58 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
There was no time to be even surprised. I
made one bound from the chair, and at the same
instant something whirled through the air close
behind me. There wasadullclang. Chetwynd,
gripping my arm, pointed up. Neither of us
could speak.
Fixed at the extremity of a huge steel spring
which had been concealed as one of the planks
of the veranda, the chair had flown up in a
great arc above us, the spring had dashed
against the bars of the iron railing, and the
chair checked thus suddenly in its flight was
still quivering to and fro from the terrific shock
of the impact.
Chetwynd was the first to gain his voice.
“Hush! Look!” he whispered. Through
the doorway, leering out into the darkness, was
the face of the Spaniard. The next instant
it vanished. Chetwynd blew loud blasts on a
whistle, and we both rushed into the room.
The man was gone, but before we had reached
the top of the stairs a loud shriek, followed by
 the sounds of a desperate struggle, fell on our
ears, and hurrying down we saw Sefior Santos
struggling like a wild cat in the hands of two


60 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
-b-Q4
wanted to secure them without paying his victims
the necessary money. Thus he never intended to
pay Lady Helen for the Catalini Casket. The
old story which was repeated once in the case of
Ingram would have again been the talk about
you. Your lifeless body would have been
found in the morning on Wimbledon Common,
and the police would suppose that you had been
robbed and murdered. I guessed that this was
the sefior’s game, but it was impossible for me
to tell how he performed his ghastly feats until
I could get within the precincts of Roe House.
When I found that you were really going there,
I thought my opportunity had come. I resolved
to watch you, and at the same time to let you
go into danger. I followed you this evening,
bringing two detectives in plain clothes with me.
I perceived that there were no servants in the
house, which strengthened my suspicions. We
three managed to get into the garden, and
watched you as you sat at supper. When you
went up to the veranda we raised a window and
got into the house, and then began our search.
We first made our way to the room under
the veranda. Come, I will show you.” He


THE DEATH CHAIR 61
took up‘ a candle as he spoke. I followed
him.
“We could hear your voices above us,”
continued Chetwynd. “When we entered the
room I struck a light and then saw what I will
now show you—something that sent me flying
up to you. Thank God, I was just in time.
Santos must have gone down the other way, so
I missed him.”
We had now entered a small, bare room.
In the centre stood an enormous cogged
wheel and ratchet, which could be wound
by a handle. Upon the floor lay a long steel
chain.
“ Do you see this ? ” said Chetwynd. “ The
chain was used to wind down the huge steel
spring in the veranda ; this cord drew back the
catch in order to release it, and then—well, you
saw the rest for yourself. One moment more,
and it would have flung you over the fir-tops
and out on to the Common, three hundred
yards away. Your dead body would have been
found there in the morning. just as in Ingram’s
case, there would have been no clue. Sefior
Santos would have declared that you left the


62 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
house with the money in your possession, thus
giving the motive for your murder. N o possible
suspicion could have attached to him. Paul, I
don’t wonder you feel shaken, but think for
your comfort that you have avenged Ingram
and brought to the gallows one of the most crafty,
scientific, and satanic criminals of the day!
What a stir it will make!”
The next day Roe House underwent a care-
ful examination by some of the ablest detec-
tives in London. In all sorts of unlikely places
treasures of immense worth were hidden.
Doubtless they were most of them stolen.
Amongst others the pearl necklace for which
poor Ingram was murdered was found. It was
sold again for even a larger figure, and thus
Mrs. Ingram got back her money. Lady
Helen also received the Catalini Casket
uninjured into her trembling hands. She had
the courage and good sense, after so frightful a
catastrophe, to inform her husband of the truth.
He was more lenient than she had painted him,
and her young brother was saved from absolute
ruin.
As to Don jose Santos, even the plea of


THE DEATH CHAIR 63
_ L. '-,_ . .._*_é;~
insanity availed nothing—two months later he
was hanged for his crimes, and the world was
rid of one of the most consummate scoundrels
who has ever lived.


A VISIBLE SOUND 65


meeting of the committee he and his niece
would be duly elected. To this he replied by a
somewhat longer letter.
“Your news has given me relief, Dr. Cato,”
he wrote; “I am an old man, and one never
knows what may happen. I have heard a great
deal of your Club from people who have derived
benefit from your peculiar mode of treatment,
and it is quite possible that in the future the
institution which you have been good enough to
In the present case it will undoubtedly be of
service to me. I do not think that I shall last
much longer, but while I am in the world I wish
to keep as well as possible, and as I am suffering
from various phases of a nervous disorder, I
should like to
as possible. I shall probably be with you early
next week. Before coming, however, it is as
well for you to know that I am the victim of a
very extraordinary malady, which is quite over-
powering, and has such a curious effect on my
nerves that I am obliged to yield to certain
inclinations, knowing all the time that mischief
will occur from my doing so. I will tell you
E


66 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
more about this when I have the pleasure of
meeting you.”
In reply to this letter I wrote to Mr. Royal
to say that the following Wednesday would suit
Dr. Chetwynd and myself for his reception, and
he replied to the effect that he and his niece
would be with us on that date.
It was early in the spring of the year 1892
when he arrived, accompanied by his niece.
He was a very tall and thin old man, with white
hair hanging down over his shoulders, piercing,
deeply-set black eyes, and aquiline features.
There was an eagerness in his gaze which I
have not often seen in any one so advanced
in life, and which I put down partly to
the complaint from which he undoubtedly
suffered.
His niece to a certain extent resembled him.
She had the same bright, alert look, but her
features were small, her figure graceful, and she
had the rounded limbs and soft complexion of
early youth. She had a gentle, affectionate
manner, and I saw at once that she was a par-
ticularly amiable girl. I noticed, however, from
the first that she was very anxious about the


A VISIBLE SOUND 67
old man. At the first possible opportunity
she hastened to tell me the cause of this
anxiety.
“My uncle has not the slightest idea, Dr.
Cato,” she said, “that he is suffering from what
almost amounts to mania; but, nevertheless, I
-who have known him all my life am certain that
such is the case.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, in the first place, he will not consult
his family physician. He has absolutely refused
to see Dr. Winstanley for the last two years,
and it is since then that the curious phase of
nervous disorder to which I allude has become
so manifest. I cannot tell you how relieved I
was when he declared his intention of becoming
a member of the Sanctuary Club, and of putting
himself under your treatment.”
“Pray describe the symptoms which give
you uneasiness,” I interrupted.
She paused for a moment, then said, slowly, Q, "You do not know perhaps that my uncle, -.',-"I.
Mr. Royal, is one of the greatest authorities lqlfii
on archaeology and Roman relics in England. About three months ago he sent some magnifi- - ; 5


68 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
cent Roman pottery to the British Museum.
This he had himself excavated in the neighbour-
hood of Court Royal out of a Roman villa,
which he discovered within three miles of his
estate. I trace the growth of his disorder
almost from the day when he first discovered
this villa. Since then he has scarcely lived for
anything else, employing workmen in the task
of excavation, and wet or fine, early and late,
has spent his time at the villa. During the
long winter evenings he has been hunting up
the records of the place, and he told me not
long ago that he believed the ruins in question
had belonged to one of the Quaestors of Customs
in the reign of the Emperor Hadrian, when
Britain was a Roman colony. He has searched
through many old county records, and found
that an old chronicler made mention of this
very place, and said that it contained buried
treasure of great value. Since reading this
account my uncle’s excitement has become
greater and greater, and the one object of his
life now is to discover the treasure which he
believes to be hidden away in the old villa. I
bitterly regret for his sake that he ever knew


A VISIBLE SOUND 69


anything of its existence. He has certainly
lost both health and sleep since that date.”
“What has brought things to a crisis?” I asked.
“I will tell you,” she answered. “Two
months ago he returned home in a state of
breathless and painful excitement. It was just
about Christmas time, and the weather was
bitterly cold. I think he had got a chill in
body, but his excitement of mind almost passed
all bounds. He brought with him an old
bronze disc, which he had found deeply em-
bedded in the clay. There was some Latin
writing on it, and night after night he shut
himself up with his old disc trying to make out
the inscription round the edge. Whether he
has ever done so or not is more than I can tell
you; but a few days ago, just after you had
consented to admit him here, I found him in
a state of unconsciousness in his study. The
bronze was lying on a table near, and he had
evidently fainted while struggling to possess
himself of its secret. I locked the bronze disc
up in one of the cupboards in the study, and
took immediate steps to bring my uncle here.
I am most anxious about him.”


70 THE SANCTUARY CLUB


“ He certainly looks extremely ill,” I replied,
“but I trust the treatment and the great quiet
of the place will go far to restore him. Has
he shown any other eccentricities, Miss Sea-
field ? ”
She hesitated, then said, slowly, “There is
one other craze which has manifested itself to
an extraordinary degree. For nearly a year he
has been hiding things of value in all sorts of
unexpected places. Not long ago we could not
find the old jewelled hunting watch which he
always wore in his waistcoat-pocket. He him-
self seemed to have forgotten where he put
it, and was in a terrible state about it. We
eventually recovered it in an unused well in the
garden. Some jewels left to me by my mother
were also put by him into other as unlikely
places, and of late I have been obliged to have
a special attendant to follow him about in order
to prevent his hiding things in daily use.”
“ Well,” I answered, “ he could not do better
than come here. I am glad you have spoken
so frankly about him. My friend Chetwynd
and I will do our utmost to promote his re-
covery, and in the meantime I hope you will


A VISIBLE SOUND 7!
enjoy yourself. You at least look well and
strong.”
“I am fairly well,” she replied; “but what
with one thing and another, I have gone
through many anxieties. Perhaps I ought to
tell you that my uncle has had a very sad story.
He had three children, the elder two being
sons. The eldest son and a little daughter
died when quite young, and he has quarrelled
with the other son so effectually that nothing
will induce him to see him again. He has
not only quarrelled with him, but he has
also disinherited him. The son in question,
james Royal, is a very bad man, and has led a
most reckless and extravagant life. My uncle
has paid his debts many times and given him
very large sums of money, but within the last
five years he has absolutely refused to allow
him to come near Court Royal, and has assured
me that he will not leave him a farthing. james
Royal, who used to terrify me when I was a
little child by coming to the house and making
fearful disturbances, has taken his father at his
word, and we neither of us now know where
he is, or whether he is in existence at all.”
l\m ,.:_.L


72 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
“And who will inherit the property?” I
ventured to ask.
“I do not mind telling you,” she answered,
her eyes growing bright; “ my uncle has often
told me that he will leave Court Royal to me.
I am not particularly anxious to be rich, but I
hope, if I do find myself possessed of so fine a
property, that I shall know how to do my duty.
I am the daughter of his only sister, who was
very much younger than himself. My mother
died when I was a baby, and my father soon
followed her. Since then I have lived at Court
Royal, and my uncle has been both father and
mother to me.”
At that moment my conversation with Miss
Seafield was interrupted, and I did not renew it
again. I repeated to Chetwynd what the young
lady had told me, and we soon came to the
conclusion that Walter Royal’s malady was
hopeless, and that, in all probability, the old
man was not long for this world. He was a
very gentle and agreeable person, and did not
show the slightest sign of oddity when joining
in general conversation, but his bodily weakness
grew apace, and he was soon confined to his room.





flint J,”z_a-tax» Hi
The Szmctzmry Club]

" A visitor called.”
[Page 73


A VISIBLE SOUND 73
Royal and his niece had been about a' fort-
night at the Sanctuary Club, when one day a
visitor called. It was, I remember, early in
the afternoon, and I was doing something in
the hall. Miss Seafield was standing near
helping me. Suddenly she almost dropped a
valuable china plate which she was assisting me
to move into a more prominent position, the
colour fled from her face, and her hands
trembled. A tall, eager—looking man of about
thirty years of age was announced. Miss
Seafield started forward, holding out both her
hands.
“jack!” she cried, “how did you know
we were here?” Then she turned and intro-
duced him to me. “Mr. Kelvin—Dr. Cato,”
she said.
I bowed to the stranger. He had an un-
common face, and I found myself looking at
him with great interest. There was a certain
untamed fire in his eyes, joined to some in-
dications of weakness round his lips, which
seemed at a first glance to point him out as the
victim of hereditary nervous weakness, but the
breadth of his brow and the rare sweetness of


74 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
his smile immediately dissipated this first im-
pression. I felt certain that he was a man of
remarkable genius, and had not led an ordinary
career. It also needed but a glance at the face
of the beautiful girl who now stood close to his
side to show that the pair loved each other,
and were in all probability engaged.
“ I must let Uncle Walter know that you
have come, jack, and then I will come back to
you,” was Primrose’s next eager remark.
“Shall I do that for you?” I interrupted;
“ I am going to visit Mr. Royal in about half-
an-hour, when he awakens after his nap.”
“Oh, will you?” she asked, her eyes full of
smiles, and her cheeks glowing with happiness ;
“then in that case we can go into the grounds.
I have a good deal to say to Mr. Kelvin, Dr.
Cato, and I am very much obliged to you.”
I went up-stairs to the old man. In the course
of conversation I delivered his niece’s message.
“ Ah!” he said, “so jack has found us out.
Has Primrose told you anything more ? ”
“ No,” I answered ; “what do you mean ? ”
“She is engaged to Kelvin, and more or less
against my will. He is a clever fellow, very
I
1


A VISIBLE souun 75
clever, almost a genius; he has written some
books of rare distinction, and is also a poet of
no mean order; but he is poor and rash and
extravagant, and my impression is that he
got himself into a serious scrape early in his
life.”
“ In your niece’s case you ought to be very
careful,” I said. “ You are a man of large pro-
perty, and if you mean her to inherit it, she must
not be a prey to fortune-hunters.”
“ Oh, Kelvin is nothing of that sort,” he said,
somewhat impatiently. “ If anything, he is too
unworldly; he loves my girl devotedly, and she
fairly worships the ground he walks on. I am
not surprised, and when you know him better,
Cato, you will yourself yield to his many
fascinations.”
That evening Miss Seafield asked me if
her uncle had said anything with regard to
Kelvin.
“ He told me that you and he are engaged,”
I said. _
She looked steadily at me for a moment and
then her dark-grey eyes filled with tears.
“ It is my great privilege to love him, and to


76 THE SANCTUARY CLUB


be loved back in return," she said. “He is
the most wonderful man I have ever met. He is
very clever, more than clever; his writings are
beautiful. He will make his mark in the world
of letters if he goes on, but he has had a sad life,
and has had much trouble. Dr. Cato, I don't
mind telling you, he put himself some years
ago into the power of my cousin, james Royal.”
" How so?” I asked.
“ I don't quite know myself, but it has cast a
shadow over his life. It is in my cousin’s power
to ruin~him, and why he has not done so long
ago is a marvel ; but jack’s hope now is that he
will never push things to extremities. Ah, I
have told you too much—pray forget what I
have said, but always remember that I regard
myself as one of the most fortunate women in
the world to have won the love of so good, so
great a man.”
Within a week from that date old Mr. Royal
passed quietly away in his sleep. His illness
had been hopeless from the first—but none the
less was the shock a severe one to Miss Seafield.
The old man was taken back to Court Royal to
sleep in the vault of his ancestors, and in the


A VISIBLE souno 77
rush of other work I almost forgot Primrose
Seafield and her story.
Nearly six months passed, when I received
the following letter—-
“ Court Royal, Wren/zurst, Kent.
“DEAR SIR,—My name I know will be
familiar to you as the son of the late Mr.
Walter Royal, who was a member of your Club,
and died under your roof. As I am rather
anxious about myself in view of my father’s
malady, and as I hope to be married within a
week, and there is no time to spare, I shall be
exceedingly glad if you will come down and see
me at your earliest convenience. ,
“ Yours faithfully,
“jAMES RovAL.”
I read this letter with a good deal of astonish-
ment. Had the reckless andlwicked son who
had more or less ruined his father’s life turned
up at Court Royal on hearing of the old man’s
death? Beyond doubt this had happened.
But why was he staying there, when Primrose
Seafield was the heiress? And whom was he
going to marry immediately, and why had he
§
I
.1


78 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
requested me, of all persons under the sun, to
diagnose his special symptoms ?
Apprehending, I could not tell why, foul play
of some sort, I was about to reply to this letter,
when by the very next post I received one from
Miss Seafield herself.
“ DEAR DR. CATO,” it ran, “I have just
heard that my cousin, james Royal, has written
asking you to come down here, and I am writ-
ing now to beg of you as a personal friend of
my own to grant his request if possible. The
fact is, I want to see you myself, and it is
impossible for me to visit you at the Club just
at present. I am in great and terrible trouble,
and I want to ask your advice. believe you
can help me if you will. ~ When you meet my
cousin, please do not mention to him that I
have written, nor speak about anything special
in his presence. In particular, I hope you will
not allude to Mr. Kelvin. I will tell you all
when we meet.—Yours sincerely,
“PR1MRosE SEAFIELD.”
“I will go down by the earliest train to-


A VISIBLE SOUND 79
morrow morning,” I reflected, “ and find out for
myself how matters really stand.”
Soon after eleven o'clock on the following day
I reached Wrenhurst. A well-appointed carriage
had been sent to meet me. I learned from the
coachman that Court Royal was about three
miles away, but the spirited chestnuts were not
long in getting over the ground. I presently
found myself in a fine avenue, which contained
some magnificent timber, and a sharp corner in
the avenue brought the old house into full view,
with its quaint gable-ends and Norman turrets.
just as the carriage drew up before the front
entrance, Primrose Seafield hurried to meet me.
She was in deep black, and her shady hat was
slightly pushed away from her face.
“ You have come—I thought you would,”
she said. “I cannot tell you how thankful I
am. My cousin is out, but there is no time to
say much to you; he may be back at any moment.
Oh, Dr. Cato, Iam in fearful trouble—I wonder
my senses do not give way. I must take an
opportunity of speaking to you, and in private.
Will you come to my uncle’s study after
lunch?”
_____. .- .__- ._,__;.-A.-.._|_‘||As.4|>._.1_


80 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
i.
-- -; .w.- . _ i
“ Shall I find you there?” I asked.
“Yes; I have no chance of having a word
alone with you before. My cousin will prevent
it, but Mrs. Hall, my old governess, is staying
with me, and she will bring you to the study if
you ask her. After lunch my cousin, as a rule,
goes away for a nap by himself. Ah, and here
he is approaching.”
She turned as she spoke and pointed in the
direction of the shrubberies, through which I
saw a tall, loosely-made man coming towards us.
I scarcely glanced at him at first, however, so
dismayed was I by the change in the girl’s
own bright face. She was now painfully thin,
and her dark-grey eyes were almost too large
for absolute beauty. There were heavy shadows .
under them, and her lips—beautiful and proud
lips they used to be—were tremulous as though
she had often indulged in heavy fits of crying.
She looked sadly nervous, too, and as though
her mental equilibrium had, in some curious way,
got a severe shock.
“Come with me to meet my cousin,” she
said. She walked forward, and I followed her.
The man who had now almost reached us


A VISIBLE SOUND 81
was above the middle height ; he was followed
by a bulldog, and wore a Norfolk suit and
carried a rook-rifle in his hand. In some
particulars his features resembled those of his
father, being aquiline and thin; but the colour
on his cheeks was fixed, and his mouth was
completely hidden by a heavy moustache. His
eyes were sunken into his head, and were too
bright. They had a watchful gleam in them,
too, which I have often connected with nervous
disorder. It needed scarcely a glance to tell
me that the man indulged in too much alcohol.
“How do you do, Dr. Cato?” he said, as
we came up. “I presume this is Dr. Cato,
Primrose?” he added, glancing at his cousin.
She bowed, without speaking.
“Ah! so I guessed. Your train must have
been punctual, Doctor. I am sorry I was not
on the premises when you drove up. Will you
come into the house now ? ”
He did not take any further notice of Prim-
rose. She left us and went slowly in the
direction of the shrubbery. We entered a
large hall, and Royal, opening a door on the
right, took me into the dining-room.
F


82 THE SANCTUARY CLUB


- »—~ _-¢w=-——-;—-a %_-77 ' _ 7
“ Have something before lunch, won’t you? ”
he said, opening a door in a massive oak side-
board, and taking out a bottle of brandy.
“ N o, thank you,” I answered.
“ You had better,” he said.
I shook my head.
“ I never take stimulants except with meals,”
I said.
“ All the worse for you,” was his retort.
“ Well, you don’t mind if I help myself?” He
poured out a stiff glass of brandy and drank it
off.
“Shall we go to my late father’s smoking-
room for our talk? ” he said.
Without waiting for me to reply he led the
way, crossing a large conservatory as he did so.
We soon found ourselves in a small, comfort-
ably furnished room; the French windows
were open, and the soft summer air was com-
ing gently in. Royal drew a chair forward for
me, and sank himself into another nearly
opposite.
“Well,” he said, “ to plunge into the matter
without further delay, I am about to be married.
You may think it rather soon after my father’s


A VISIBLE SOUND 83
death, but the wedding will be a very quiet one,
and there are reasons that make it inexpedient
to allow any further delay. This day week, I
hope to see myself united to as good a girl as
ever breathed. You guess, of course, that I
allude to my cousin, Primrose Seafield.”
“You astonish me very much,” I said ; “ you
engaged to Miss Seafield ? ”
“And why not?” he answered, his brow
darkening, and an angry scowl passing across
his features.
Iwas silent. Angry as I felt, I knew that
the matter was scarcely my affair. He gazed at
me steadily for a moment; then his eyes fell,
he shuffled uneasily on his seat, and I saw
his large hands tremble.
“It is these beastly nerves,” he said. “ Cer-
tainly, this age has its drawbacks, and the way
we poor mortals are troubled by all kinds of
out-of-the-way feelings is past a joke. Now, I
don’t pretend that I have led the most immacu-
late life in the world, and what with one thing
and another, things are telling on me. I have
heard much of you and your wonderful cures,
Dr. Cato, and it has occurred to me that by


‘. I-M _
.§_-—-—- --|._.'\

3. _ .. ; ;-,-=-—.. ‘raw? _; '.
/~ _
84 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
and by I cannot do better than become a
member of your Club, and put myself completely
under your treatment.”
“I shall be pleased to enter your name on
my roll of members,”I answered. “I will send
you a form to fill up, and
He waved his hand to interrupt me.
“Presently, presently,” he said; “those
matters are for the future. I have sent for you
now to consult you as an ordinary physician. I
want to ask you a plain question. Is—in your
opinion—my father’s insanity (for he doubtless
was insane in the latter years of his life)
hereditary ? ”
“Your father was insane for the last six
months of his life; certainly not longer,” I
answered. “My friend Dr. Chetwynd and I
studied his case most carefully. He had a
peculiar mania, but it was not of long dura-
tion, and was itself of quite an innocent
character.”
“Ah,” he said; “well, I don’t agree with you.
I have known the old man intimately for some
time, and can prove that he was very queer for
several years; but now for my question. My

' 5-qQu;"fi=:-.
-__. .,
.


A VISIBLE SOUND 85
father died at the age of eighty-I am a man
of five-and-fifty : am I likely to be similarly
affected ? ”
“ N 0,” I replied, boldly; “if your father was
insane, it by no means follows that his insanity
was hereditary. But tell me what you complain
of.”
“ I am oppressed at times by an overpower-
ing sense of fear, and since I came into this
fine property I have in a most remarkable way
lost every interest in life. I have gone through
ups and downs in my rough-and-tumble ex-
istence, and I assure you there have been
moments in my miserable life when I have
scarcely known how to provide for my next
meal. You will scarcely credit this, seeing that
I am the son of one of the richest men in the
county; but he was peculiar, my dear sir,
peculiar from the very first. Now, indeed,
things have righted themselves, and in an
extraordinary and providential manner. You
see before you a rich man, Dr. Cato. I have
many thousands at my credit in the bank, and, as
you see for yourself, am the owner of a large
estate and a fine house. I am also about to be


86 THE SANCTUARY CLUB


married to a very pretty girl, and one I have long
been fond of. It seems unaccountable, does it
not, that with all these advantages, these showers
of blessings so to speak, I am still thoroughly
wretched? I sleep badly, and am troubled by
dreams and nightmares of a terrifying descrip-
tion. Knowing what I do about my father, I
have been getting quite fidgety of late, and
thought I had best consult you at once. Natur-
ally, before marriage, a man thinks of these
things. Can you relieve my mind?”
“Your symptoms are not quite pleasant ones,”
I said, “but at the same time there is nothing
to be seriously alarmed about. Granted that
your father did suffer from mania, it behoves
you to be more careful than ordinary men, and
a quiet open-air life is what will suit you best.
Avoid all excitement, and, what is far more
important, excess of every kind.”
“Well, I do -that,” he said, with a laugh;
“there is devilish little excitement here, and
plenty of open air, so that’s all right.”
“ ‘Do you take much alcohol?” I asked.
“ Oh, a nip now and then, and wine with
meals.”


A VISIBLE SOUND 87
“ Have your wine with meals, by all means,”
I answered, “but I should stop the nips. A man
who gets drunk once a month, and takes noth-
ing in the interval, will live longer than a man
who is never the worse for liquor but is con-
stantly tippling; but pray remember, the man
who does neither will outlive them both.”
“I have no doubt that is so,” he answered,
“but I could not exist without wine, and I
never drink to excess. I am much obliged to
you for your opinion, Dr. Cato. You can
assure me there is no present cause for
alarm ? ”
“None, if you will be moderate,” was my
reply.
“ I will tell Primrose what you say; she will
be relieved, poor girl. I think I quite fright-
ened her a couple of evenings ago. I was
in a somewhat mirthful state, and she did not
think I showed sufficient respect for my late
father’s memory. After all, Dr. Cato, I have
nothing to thank him for. I should not be the
owner of this property had he not over-reached
himself and died intestate. But for that little
fact Primrose would have been the heiress, and


88 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
I should have been nowhere. Now matters are
reversed, and I think I am behaving extremely
well to the girl by marrying her.”
“ But what does she say herself?” I asked.
“Say? What can she say? She is natur-
ally delighted—who would not be? It is not
every girl who has the chance of being mistress
of a fine property like this. The fact is, the
whole thing is a most lucky escape for her.
Had my father made a will, she would have
inherited Court Royal and thrown herself away
upon a fellow in town, of the name of Kelvin,
an imbecile sort of chap. He poses as a
maker of poetry, and writes a lot of silly stuff;
you must know the sort of fellow for yourself.
Primrose thought herself in love with him, and
would have married him, had I not stepped in
to interfere. Our wedding-bells will ring in a
week; and, now that you have quite relieved
my mind, I can do what is left of my courtship
with a light heart.”
As he spoke he left the room. I sat, feeling
almost stunned, by the open window. I had
now got the secret of Primrose’s trouble. But
what hold had such a man over the poor girl?


A VISIBLE SOUND 89
Why had she, even for a single moment, con-
sented to marry him? Why was there no
will? What did all this dark and inexplicable
shadow mean? _
Miss Seafield was not present at lunch; but
the old lady, Mrs. Hall, whom she had already
mentioned, took the head of the table. Royal
was in high spirits, both eating and drinking
freely. He made loud jokes, and did not seem
to miss his cousin in the very least. As soon
as the meal was over he rose abruptly.
“ What train do you take back to town ? ” he
said, looking at me.
“There is a good train, is there not, at
3.30?” was my reply.
“I should recommend the 4. 30—that is an
express. Iam sure Mrs. Hall and my cousin
Primrose will be glad to take you round the
grounds. I will join you in an hour or so; I
always have a nap after lunch—I acquired the
habit when in the East. Good-bye for the
present.”
He left the room, waving his hand as he did
so in the direction of Mrs. Hall.
“ Look after him,” he said to her.


9o THE SANCTUARY CLUB
The moment the door closed behind my
host, the good lady turned to me.
“Will you come at once to Primrose Sea-
field?” she said. “We both knew that this
would happen. He takes more wine than he
can stand, and always goes away for his nap,
as he expresses it. Dr. Cato, I know that
you have been good to Primrose, and that she
has in part confided her story to you. If you
can help her, do, in the name of Heaven; no
girl ever wanted some one to guide her more
than she does at present. She is very un-
happy and, unless matters can be quickly
put right, will have a miserable life in the
future.”
As Mrs. Hall spoke, she led me from the
dining-room down a long corridor, and a
moment later we found ourselves in the late
Mr. Royal’s study. It was a beautiful room,
lined with books from floor to ceiling, and
was situated in the west wing of the building.
Primrose Seafield was already there. She was
standing in one of the deep windows, her hands
clasped loosely behind her back. As soon as
I appeared she started forward.


92 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
regard to hiding things of value, the search
was most thorough and complete : not a corner
of the old house was left without a complete
investigation; the gardens and grounds were
searched from end to end, but nowhere up to
the present has there been the smallest clue to
any will. Two months after the death my
cousin, james Royal, appeared. He brought
a London lawyer with him, said that he had
heard that his father had died intestate, and
that he was going to take possession of every-
thing. I need not go into particulars, nor tell
you all that he said and that the lawyers on
my side said, and the amount of angry words
that passed between them. All that mattered
little or nothing to me. I was stunned. I
could not believe that my cousin was to be
the owner of the property, and that I myself
was penniless. It was not, as I have already
told you, that I wanted money for its own
sake; but, oh! Dr. Cato, you do not know
him. He will drag this noble property through
the very mire—there will be nothing of it left
in a year or two.”
She paused as she spoke; the light from ,


A VISIBLE SOUND 93
outside fell all over her figure, and lit up her
pale face, bringing out strong bronze lights in
her rich hair. She looked almost ethereal, and
very beautiful—the suffering on each feature
but accentuated her loveliness. As I watched
her I trembled for her health. Would she
long endure the severe strain to which she was
now exposed?
“Oh, money is of so little value,” she con-
tinued, “and yet what tragedies it causes; but
I must go on—please listen. You know, of
course, that when I was at the Sanctuary Club
I was engaged, with the full sanction of my
own heart, and with every prospect of happi-
ness, to the man I love best on earth, jack
Kelvin. You remember my telling you that
once, some years ago, he got himself into my
cousin’s power—he had alluded to this once
or twice, but I did not know any particulars.
I was to learn them all too soon. jack, as I
have told you, has very strong literary tastes,
and is already making a name for himself in
London; but in his early days he had serious
troubles, and was once in severe money
difficulties. At that time he knew my cousin,


94 THE SANCTUARY CLUB


james Royal,,well, and there was even a>sort
of friendship between them. jack, in order
to meet his liabilities, had borrowed money
at very heavy interest from different money-
lenders.
“One evening he confided the state of
affairs to my cousin. It was just then that
he and I had first met. He had fallen in love
with me, and had even mentioned the hope
that some day we should be husband and
wife. james Royal discovered his feelings
with regard to me. I cannot quite tell whether
jack confided in him or not, but james had a
strange power in those early days of drawing
people out; he could be full of tact when he
pleased. Anyhow, he appeared then to be a
very angel of sympathy. He had some money
at the time, and told jack that for my sake he
would pay off some of his heaviest debts. He
did so, taking over the mortgages himself,
although the security they represented, if
realized, would not have covered half the
debts.
“This happened three years ago, but since
then james Royal’s career has gone from bad


A VISIBLE SOUND 95
to worse, and, as you know, my uncle often
said that he would not leave him ad penny.
The existence of no will, however, completely
changed the aspect of affairs, and he inherits
all. He arrived at the Court, as I told you,
and about two months after his arrival came to
me one day and explained the position. He
said he had always thought it highly improbable
that he would inherit the property. The fact
of there being no will was an unforeseen con-
tingency. There was, however, he said, always
the possibility of a will being found, in which
case he knew well that the estates would be
mine.
“‘I always guessed you would be the
heiress,’ he said, Iand I meant when the time
came to marry you.’
“I laughed in his face when he said the
words, but he proceeded, looking me full in
the eyes—-
“ ‘ I have got Kelvin in my power,’ he cried.
‘I can foreclose on those mortgages, and unless
he pays up, which he cannot by any possibility
do, some of his early speculations will be
exposed—by no means to his credit—and he
,


96 THE SANCTUARY CLUB

himself dragged through the Bankruptcy Court.
Be sure of one thing—I shall have no mercy.’
“Oh, Dr. Cato, I knew his words were true
—he looked the fiend he was as he spoke.
“ ‘I have waited years for this moment,’ he
said, and he laughed. ‘When you marry me
I will destroy the mortgages, but not an hour
before. It is for you to choose whether I ruin
Kelvin or not.’
“I was nearly wild with misery. That very
morning I had heard that jack expected to be
offered the post of editor on a new and import-
ant paper, but his chance of this long-looked-
for success would be over if my cousin did his
worst.
“I went on my knees to my cousin; I did
all I could to implore his mercy, but I might
as well have spoken to a stone.”
Suddenly she turned and faced me.
“And I have yielded,” she said; “under
the horrible pressure, I have yielded. I have
told jack the truth. He is nearly mad with
misery, but I know it will be best for him in
the long run. I cannot be the cause of his
utter ruin ”


A VISIBLE SOUND '97
As she spoke she burst into painful sobs. I
turned my head aside. After a moment or two
she recovered herself.
“Your story is a most painful one,” I said,
“and what I have already felt with regard to
your cousin is abundantly confirmed by your
words. Believe me, I think you are doing
very wrong in yielding to the entreaties of a
man like james Royal. He has lived a wicked
and dissolute life, and is, I also fear, a confirmed
drunkard.”
“I know it, I know it?” she said, clasping
and unclasping her hands. “ But,” she added,
"jack owes him £20,000. If he forces jack
to pay now, all his prospects are ruined. Oh,
what a terrible power my cousin holds over
him! If I could only get £ 20,000, I should
be a free girl!”
“Then there is nothing whatever for it,” I
said, “but to find the will. When the will is
- found, and it is proved that you are the heiress,
you can defy your cousin, for you can pay
Kelvin’s debts yourself.”
“Ah, yes, yes; and now I am coming to
the real point of this interview. Please listen
G


98 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
with all your might. Do you remember my
telling you about the curious bronze disc
which my uncle had discovered?”
“I do,” I replied; “but how can it possibly
help you now?”
“In a position like mine one clutches even
at straws,” she said. “I want to show you
the disc.” She crossed the room, unlocked
the cupboard, and drew out what looked like
a large metal plate. “ Have you ever seen
anything like this before?” she asked.
I took the disc in my hand, turning it over
with some interest.
“It looks like a very curious piece of old
bronze of an early date,” I said.
“I see you understand something of these
things!” she exclaimed. “That is exactly
what my uncle told me. I shall never forget
the evening he found it. Look at the in-
scription round the edge. It is very early
Latin~—can you read it ?”
I held the disc obliquely, and deciphered the
following words with some difficulty—
“mo ORBIS CELAT THESAURUM OBRUITUM
RECOGNOSCE TRIA DIGITOS ARCUM SABULUM.”


A VISIBLE SOUND 99
“If this is genuine it is interesting,” I
exclaimed; “do you know the translation?”
“I am not quite sure of some of the words,”
she said, “and my uncle never would read
them to me. Can you translate that inscription,
and, if so, will you, Dr. Cato?”
I looked again carefully at the old Latin, and
then translated as follows—
“ T his Disc holds the Key to Buried
Treasure. Remember three things: FINGERS
—Bow-SAND.”
“Is that the meaning?” said the girl, with
great eagerness. “ How wonderful! I knew
my uncle had a reason for his excitement. I
had partly, but only partly, deciphered this
for myself. I had discovered about the buried
treasure; but what—what does the latter part
mean, Dr. Cato? What have Fingers—Bow
-—Sand to do with buried treasure?”
“I wish I knew,” I replied.
“It seems to me,” continued Miss Seafield,
“that here may be the key to get me out of
my difliculty. I dream of this disc day and
night, and the words ‘buried treasure’ are ever
ringing in my ears. Now, I have studied the


I00 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
laws of treasure-trove and discovered that the
finder must hand over the treasure to the
Crown, who pays him or her its intrinsic value.
If this disc really contains the key to hidden
treasure, and we can discover its meaning and
get the treasure, I may be able to pay the debt
which jack Kelvin owes my cousin, and so
save him and release myself.”
I never saw anything brighter than her eyes
as she spoke—-—the colour had come into her
cheeks and courage into her voice. She was
leaning against the table, and her fingers rested
lightly on the disc. She looked down at it
now with a glance of such hope, mingled with
such despair, that all the enthusiasm within me
rose up to try and help her.
“ You are to be married in a week ? ” I said.
“ Yes, this day week, unless—unless this can
save me." Again she touched the disc. “Is
there any hope, Dr. Cato?” she asked.
“Of a visionary character,” I could not help
saying. “ In the first place, we must find out
the meaning of this inscription. In the next,
if there is treasure hidden anywhere in the old
villa it may not be of large amount; but I tell


A VISIBLE SOUND 101
you what I’ll do—I’ll go and see the Roman
villa myself on my way back to the station.
Does your cousin know about this disc?”
“He examined it, as he did everything else
in the house, but evidently placed no value on
it, and I took care not to acquaint him with its
history.”
“Then I will take possession of the disc-
may I?” I said.
“Why?” she asked, reluctance in her tone.
“I should like Dr. Chetwynd to see it. He
has all kinds of curious knowledge, and is, I
fancy, an authority on this sort of thing.”
“You will not keep me long in suspense?”
she asked.
“No, you shall hear from me at the first
possible moment, but do not build your hopes
too much on this old thing. Continue to
search for the will. If it is found, believe me
you are saved.”
Soon afterwards Royal joined us both in the
grounds.
“By the way,” I said to him, “I have just
heard from Miss Seafield of a curious old
Roman villa which has been excavated near


102 THE SANCTUARY CLUB

I should like much to see it. Can l
do so on my way back to town?”
He gave me a careless glance.
“If you really wish to see the old villa, there
is no objection,” he said ; “ but there is nothing
for you to look at, except a lot of ruins and the
holes my father dug. I will tell the coachman
to point it out to you on your way to the
station.”
here.
“Thank you,” I answered. The carriage
came up at that moment. I bade Royal good-
bye, wrung Primrose’s hand, and started back
to London.
After about twenty minutes’ drive the coach-
man drew up at a gate on the left-hand side of
the road, from which a path led up a steep
embankment covered with short grass.
“ That is the place where the old master got
his death, it seems to me, sir,” said the man.
“He was always poking round there, and I
never could see that he gained much by it.
The Roman villa is at the other side of the
embankment.”
Telling him to wait for me, I began to
scramble up the mound. When I reached the


A VISIBLE SOUND 103
top I saw at once the site of the Roman villa
by the extensive excavations all round it, and
hurried up to view it more closely. A rusty
pick-axe and some other tools were left on the
grass, and I was surprised to find that there
was far more to see than I had anticipated.
Of course, nothing approaching to a structure
existed, but the extent of the ground-plan was
well-defined, and the tiled pavement of the
atrium, laid in curious mosaic patterns, was still
in a state of preservation. I walked all round
it, trying to rebuild it in my imagination from
the scanty remains that the ravages of seven-
teen centuries had left. Time, however, was
.passing, and I was obliged to hurry back to
catch the train.
As soon as I reached home I went in search
of Chetwynd. I found him in his private labor-
atory. He looked up as I approached.
“I have nearly discovered what has puzzled
me for some time,” he said; “ but what is the
matter, Cato, you look worried ?”
“So would you be if you had gone through
the sort of day I have,” was my answer. “I
have something very important to tell you,


. _. . t _ ,.\- . ._ ,'_
. | - . ----_-_-1
- ---_,
q..-
104 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
Chetwynd. I have just come back from Court
Royal.”
“ Well ? ” he asked.
I gave him a rapid outline of my experiences.
He listened quietly.
“ You must discover this cipher, Chetwynd,"
I said.
“ Do you mean this moment? ” he asked.
“Yes, now; can you not see for yourself
there is not an hour to lose?”
“I will do my best,” he answered; “leave
the disc there.”
I left him, and after a restless night I got
up early, determined to see if Chetwynd were
awake, and to discover the result of his investi-
gations. I went to his room and knocked
several times, but as there was no reply I
opened the door and went in. The room was
empty—the bed had not been slept in. What
could this mean? I hurried down to his study
—it was likewise empty.
“I think Mr. Chetwynd is in his laboratory,
sir,” said one of the servants as I passed him.
“ In his laboratory at this hour!” I exclaimed,
in some wonder. In a moment I had reached


A VISIBLE SOUND I05
the door and quietly opened it. Chetwynd was
seated at the bench. Though it was broad
daylight, the blinds were still down and
the electric light burning. Upon the bench,
fastened in an iron vice, was the disc; beside
it lay Chetwynd’s open violin-case and several
books.
“My dear fellow,” I cried, “what are you
up to?”
“You must not do this again, Cato,” he said,
in a quiet voice, a twinkle coming into his
bright eyes.
“What?” I exclaimed.
“Bring me your abominable enigmas to
solve. You know I cannot leave a thing when
I have once started it, but I have solved this,
at any rate. Whether it will lead to buried
treasure or not is quite another question.”
“You have?” I cried. “ I-low? Tell me!”
“ Did you not say that the pavement of the
old Roman villa was in a state of preservation
and in mosaic patterns ? ”
“ Yes, certainly ; but why do you ask?”
“ Fingers—Bow—Sand,” he replied. “If
what I have discovered here is the key to


~


A VISIBLE SOUND I07
pattern drawn on it—“and if we find one of
the mosaics corresponding to this,” he con-
tinued, “I should say there might be a chance
for us.”
I gazed at him for a moment without speak-
ing, as his extraordinary solution dawned upon
me.
“ By jove ! ” I cried, at last, “you have dis-
covered the key. It would be a triumph if we
found something of real value, and so saved
poor Primrose Seafield.”
“We will start off immediately after break-
fast,” he cried ; “ I am as keen about the affair
as you are yourself. Now, look here, Cato,
this is what the bow does.”
Some fine sand lay sprinkled on the disc;
he placed his fingers at certain points on its
edge, marked by indications that I had over-
looked; he then drew the bow smartly along
the edge. The musical note rang out, and the
sand, from being a shapeless heap, fell into a
perfect symmetrical figure, traced as if by the
pencil of some skilled but invisible draughts-
man, and corresponding exactly to the copy he
had made on paper.


108 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
“It is marvellous,” I said. “Yes, we will
take this down with us. I will go and look up
the trains ; there is not a moment to lose.”
I went into the hall, where the servant
handed me my morning’s post: there was a
letter from Miss Seafield. I tore it open at
once.
“ DEAR DR. CATo,” it ran. “Immediately
after you left this afternoon my cousin ques-
tioned me about your desire to visit the old
Roman villa—and an hour or so later dis-
covered that the bronze disc was gone. He
flew into a frightful rage, and said that you and
I were plotting something against his interests,
and that only sinister motives took you to the
ruins. He finally declared that he would go
to you to get back the disc by the earliest train
in the morning. He is almost like a madman
to-night—what is to be done ?—Yours sincerely,
“ PRIMROSE SEAFIELD.”
“The brute,” I could not help exclaiming.
“Well, he won't find me here. I am glad he
will be out of the way while we are overhauling
the ruins.”


A VISIBLE SOUND I09
-:.
it 4......,...-----1*-..-—-—--v -'--—*'-
Chetwynd and I reached Wrenhurst in good
time. We had already decided to go first to
Court Royal and bring Primrose with us to the
scene of the excavations. When we got there
she hurried to meet us.
“ Have you discovered anything?” she cried.
The colour left her face and then returned to it
in a crimson flood. '
“We have news for you, and want you to
come with us immediately,” I said.
“Have you met my cousin?” she asked.
“He left by the eight o'clock train for London
—-meaning to go straight out to Hampstead.”
“Then in that case he will soon be back,” I
answered; "and we have not a moment to
lose. Dr. Chetwynd has discovered the key
to the secret of the disc. Will you come with
us at once to the old Roman villa? ”
“We ought to take tools with us,” said
Chetwynd.
“ I noticed some there yesterday,” I replied,
“left behind doubtless by the workmen. Come,
Miss Seafield.”
On our way to the ruins I told the excited
girl something of what Chetwynd had explained


IIO THE SANCTUARY CLUB
to me. From the depths of despair she seemed
suddenly to reach the very pinnacle of hope.
“Oh, I am certain now I shall be saved, I
am certain of it,” she said. She could scarcely
sit still owing to the feverish excitement which
was consuming her.
At last we reached the mound and hurried to
the site of the old Roman villa. Without a
word Chetwynd went forward, gazing eagerly
to and fro with his eyes bent upon the mosaic
of the pavement. Suddenly he stopped.
“ Look at this, Cato,” he said. He knelt
down and pointed from the paper he held in his
hand to one of the patterns on the pavement.
“ Line for line the same,” he said; “this is
it beyond doubt. Now for one of those pick-
axes—there is something more than mere coin-
cidence here.”
I quickly fetched one of the picks, and insert-
ing the point beneath the edge of the tile
levered it up, at once discovering a deep cavity.
My heart sank at the ease with which it came
up. It had evidently been quite recently
disturbed.
“ We have been forestalled,” cried Chet-


A VISIBLE SOUND III
wynd; “your uncle, Miss Seafield, must have
found the pottery here.” He lay down as he
spoke, and thrust his arm into the hole.
“Yes, it is quite empty,” he said; “ but, no,
there is something. It is no Roman treasure,
however, nothing but a modern tin case.”
He drew out a long, symmetrical case, and
tearing off the top, exposed a roll of parchment.
He had scarcely done so before the sound of
horse’s hoofs at full gallop were heard to our
right, and the next moment james Royal had
drawn up and sprung from his saddle.
“What are you doing here, you scoundrels?”
he cried. “You have found something; hand
it over to me—it is my property.”
His face was literally aflame with passion
and drink.
“Pardon me,” replied Chetwynd, as he
glanced through the parchment. “This be-
longs to your father’s executors. It is a holo-
graph will dated three years ago, and made
before his illness. From its contents I see that
he disinherits you, and bequeaths Court Royal
and his whole real and personal estate to his
niece, Primrose Seafield.”


112 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
These words fell upon us all like a thunder-
bolt. The scene of the next few moments
baffles description, and I need not mention the
disgraceful exhibition of frenzied rage and bad
language that Royal gave way to. Had I not
been there, it is almost certain he would have
overpowered Chetwynd and destroyed the will.
We returned, however, with it to Court Royal
in triumph, and later in the day I explained my
theory with regard to it to Primrose Seafield.
“Your uncle’s craze for hiding things led
him to put the will here,” I said; “beyond
doubt, his mind was not right when he did so.
You had a narrow shave, Miss Seafield, of
being the most unhappy woman in the world,
but things are all right now.”
“ They are, they are,” she cried, “ and I owe
it all to you. I shall never, as long as I live,
be able to thank you enough. I have already
wired to Mr. Kelvin, and he is coming down
here this evening.”
“And your cousin?” I said.
“ He left Court Royal half-an-hour ago.
Whether he will come back or not remains
to be proved.”


A VISIBLE SOUND 113
“His game is up,” I answered. “I do not
think you will be troubled with him any more.”
In this conjecture I was partly right. james
Royal died within the year, a hopeless victim
to the worst form of the drink mania.
Primrose, however, long before that event
took place became the happy wife of the man
she loved best in the world.




CHAPTER III
THE DIANA SAPPHIRE
A ny one who loolz: upon Diana unveiled is blind
THE month of October, I893, will always
stand out in my memory as the time when
those grave and terrible troubles, which in the
end had such serious consequences, began.
Hitherto Chetwynd and I had gone on pros-
perously, the Club was doing well, the cures
resulting from our special treatment were
numerous, the members were pleased with us
and with each other; but from the day when
Dr. Horace Kort paid us his heavy premium to
be our third partner, these things gradually but
surely changed. From the first I had disliked
the man, and from the first I think I suspected
him; but Chetwynd was taken with his un-
doubted attainments, and, as we wished to
114


THE DIANA SAPPHIRE II5
extend our premises, further funds were neces-
sary for the purpose.
At any rate, the deeds of partnership were
signed and Kort took up his residence with us.
He was of a good half-English, half-German
family, and had spent at least ten years in the
great Continental schools of research, having
taken his degree at Vienna. He was himself a
man with considerable outward charm. He had
a sympathetic manner, and a fund of vivacious
and amusing stories. He was reserved, with-
out having an apparent trace of hardness or
coldness about him, and the members quickly
assured us that they thought our new partner
an undoubted acquisition. Little did they
guess as they looked at him that Kort was one
of the keenest vivisectors of the day, the valued
collaborator of Parker in some of his latest
advances, and that those white, tapering fingers,
which could bring music of the finest order out
of more than one instrument, could also wrestle
effectively with science at the dissecting-table
and laboratory bench.
In appearance, Kort was about thirty years
of age, and was rather below than above the


I16 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
middle height. His face was dark and thin;
he had straight features and keen, somewhat
deeply-set, eyes. He invariably dressed with
extreme care, and was in every sense of the
word a polished man of the world. He came
to us in the August of '93, and a couple of
months later, early in October, the following
trifling incident occurred.
One morning soon after breakfast a lady
drove up in a closed carriage. She inquired for
Dr. Kort, who happened to be out at the time.
The servant informed her that either Chet-
wynd or myself would be glad to see her. She
answered that Dr. Kort was the only member
of the firm she wished to see. She was just
about to drive away when the doctor himself
came hurriedly up. I happened to be standing
near, and I was startled at the change in his
face. For the first time heart and soul seemed
to breathe out of it. He gave an involuntary
start and quickly suppressed an exclamation,
whether of joy, grief, or anger I could not
determine, then his face turned to an ashy
pallor, and going up to the carriage he spoke
emphatically and in a very low voice to its


THE DIANA SAPPHIRE 117
inmate. Finally I heard him say,“I will drive
a short way back with you, Isobel; you must
not come in now.” He entered the carriage,
the coachman turned and drove back in the
direction of town.
Kort returned in the course of the morning,
looking very much as usual. He entered
Chetwynd’s consulting-room, where I happened
to be, and throwing himself on a sofa began
to talk. Watching him narrowly, however, I
observed that his hand trembled as he took up
the morning paper to substantiate some news
which he was relating to us. I had caught a
glimpse of the occupant of the carriage, and I
could not help wondering somewhat about her.
She was young, so dark as to look almost
foreign, with delicate features, a pale complexion,
and wonderful blue eyes. The colour of her
eyes reminded me more of sapphires than any-
thing else, and they were sufficiently big and
out of the common to arrest the attention of any
one. They gave great distinction to a face which
in itself bore claims to beauty, and as Kort ap-
proached the carriage I saw them change and
darken, but with what emotion I could not guess.


I18 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
That very evening, as I was busily engaged
writing letters, Kort came into my room.
“I want to speak to you,” he said. “I am
anxious about a case which has just been
brought to my notice. It is that of a man
about my own age whom I happened to know
some years ago. He is in very poor circum-
stances and also very ill—consumptive, of
course. I should like him to try our Davos
treatment, and as he is much too poor to pay
the Club subscription and entrance fee, I pro-
pose to do this for him, if you and Chetwynd
have no objection to his coming here.”
“Why, certainly not,” I replied. “And it is
kind of you to help him,” I could not help
adding. I looked at the man in some little
astonishment. He returned my gaze, and
smiling very gravely said, in a low voice-—-
“ Benevolence when judiciously exercised has
its special charms; why should not I enjoy
those pure pleasures as well as another man ? ”
“Why not?” I answered, feeling ashamed
for the moment of the suspicions I entertained
towards him. “ Well, tell me more about your
intended patient.”


THE DIANA SAPPHIRE I19
“I was going to propose,” he answered,
“that you and I should go to visit Philip
Sherwin, at Pinner, to-morrow. We can drive
over in half-an-hour. Can you manage this?”
I looked up my engagements, and said that it
would be possible for me to do so.
“Very well, we will go over immediately
after breakfast. He is a queer chap, but I
have taken a fancy to him. I met him first at
the School of Mines in jermyn Street.”
Kort went away a moment later, and on the
following morning he and I found ourselves at
Pinner. We were standing outside a neglected-
looking door in the midst of an untidy garden.
The paint was blistered off the wood, and the
knocker was rusty from long disuse. Bells
there were none. Dr. Kort raised the knocker,
and after a moment or two we heard steps in
the passage, the chain was unhooked, and the
door opened by a thin, hectic-looking man, in
an old velvet coat. He might have been from
thirty to thirty-five years of age, and had the
sunken and yet bright eyes, and the painfully
clear complexion, of the consumptive.
To my astonishment, the very moment the


~I


I20 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
young man made his appearance Dr. Kort
stepped forward, laid his hand on his shoulder,
and said, in a low, emphatic voice-
“Now, Philip, be reasonable, forget old
prejudices, and receive me as the friend which
I truly am. Let me introduce you to Dr. Cato,
the head of the celebrated Sanctuary Club at
Hampstead. I have heard of your illness, and
believe that if there is a place in the world
which offers you a chance of cure it is that
Club. May we both come in ?”
The young man's face grew whiter than
ever, he looked full at Kort, and then said,
slowly, and with a most bitter emphasis-
“ I should like to take you by the throat, but
you know I cannot.”
“Yes, I know that,” answered Kort, sup-
pressing a smile, and glancing at me with a
significant shrug of his shoulders. His gesture
seemed to say, “We must humour him; he is
not responsible for his actions.”
I watched the pair with keen interest.
Sherwin did not speak at all for a moment ; he
looked from Kort to me, breathed quickly as
though his emotions were almost strangling


THE DIANA SAPPHIRE 121
him, and then said, in a low voice, quite
destitute of his former spirit—
“Yes, come in if you want to. I suppose
this is good of you, Kort, and there is nothing
for it but ”
“Submission,” said Kort, in a low voice.
The man did not answer at all. We had
now entered the house. He walked on before
us, leading the way down a dark hall, and
opening a door on the right, led us into a lofty
room which looked out upon a large, neglected
back garden. Glancing round I saw that I was
in a lapidary’s workshop. A wooden bench
ran along one complete side, littered with many
tools and instruments for polishing and cutting
gems. In one corner stood a stone-cutter’s
lathe, and beside it a large safe. There was
also a huge furnace, upon which lay several
pairs of tongs and clay pots for melting
glass.
“This is my workshop,” he said, turning to
me; “ I spend most of my time here.”
“I see that you are still as mad as ever,
Sherwin,” said Kort. “Does the great dis-
covery approach nearer the light?”

~‘ - ~~< * ~-* I ,5 -‘-‘._-;;L;;~..
‘Iii
~ -ll :_r'-I-I‘;


I22 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
Sherwin laughed—there was both bitterness
and pathos in his laugh.
“I am nearer to it—much nearer,” he said,
emphatically ; “all I ask is that I may live long
enough to perfect it.” Then he added, turning
to me, “I get this old house for a very low
rent; it suits my purpose admirably, and I am
happy here. May I ask what you two gentle-
men have really come for to-day? ”
“I heard you were ill, no matter how, no
matter when,” said Kort. “ Dr. Cato and I are
anxious to relieve you. We wish you to come
to the Sanctuary Club.”
“ I have heard of your place,” said Sherwin,
looking at me, “but it is only meant for the
rich ; I am a poor man.”
“ VVe can manage that,” said Kort, emphatic-
ally. “ The treatment is the one treatment in
the world for you, and we have both come here
to-day in order to implore of you to accept
our hospitality and become our guest at the
Sanctuary Club.”
“ But how? I do not understand,” he said.
Kort went up to him and drew him aside.
He said some words in a low voice which I


THE DIANA SAPPHIRE I23
couldl not catch; the other man started back,
and looked at him with indescribable aversion
and dislike. Kort continued to speak very
quietly, and presently I heard Sherwin say, in a
low voice—
“It is distasteful, more than distasteful, but
if what you say is true, I must submit.”
He then returned to the window where I
was standing.
“Do you mind examining my lungs?” he
said. “I should be very glad to get your
verdict.”
I had brought my stethoscope, and imme-
diately did what he required. I found mischief
to a considerable extent in both lungs. Even
with the treatment we proposed to adopt the
poor fellow’s days were numbered.
“Well,” he said, just glancing at me as he
buttoned up his shirt, “ what is your verdict?”
“You are very ill,” I replied.
“ Hopelessly ill?”
“I fear so.”
“Then what is the use of my going to your
Club ? ”
“That depends altogether on how you look


124 THE SANCTUARY CLUB


at it,” I answered. “I can at least promise
you great relief, and your life will certainly be
much prolonged.”
He stood quite still, evidently thinking
deeply.
“Very well, I will accept,” he said, after a
moment's pause. “It is all-important for me
that my life should be preserved. I will be
your guest, Dr. Cato, on a condition.”
“What is that ? ” I asked.
“I possess a treasure of great value; you
must allow me to bring it with me to the Club,
and you must insure its being put in a place of
safety.”
I was about to ask for further information,
when Kort said, abruptly: “You would like
to give your confidence to Cato, Sherwin.
V!/'hile you do so I will walk in the garden.”
As Dr. Kort spoke, he opened one of the
French windows and went out. The moment
he did so Sherwin uttered a sigh of relief.
“ This is all very strange and overwhelming,”
he said ; “ I have not seen Kort for years.”
“ But he is an old friend,” I said.
“ He is an acquaintance of some years’


THE DIANA SAPPHIRE I25
standing,” replied Sherwin, in a reserved
voice. “His visit to-day has startled me
very much, and if it were not for the sake of
Isobel ”
“ Isobel!” I could not help exclaiming,
startled by the coincidence of names.
“Why, do you know her?” he said; “but
you cannot.”
“ A lady of that name called to see Dr. Kort
yesterday at the Sanctuary Club, that is all,” I
answered.
“Ah,” he said, “I thought as much. I
would humble myself even more than I am
about to do, for her sake. But let us change
the conversation. I want to give you my
confidence, not with regard to Isobel, but in
connection with another matter.”
“ I am quite willing to listen,” I replied.
“May I ask first,” he began, “if you know
anything about precious stones? ”
“Not much,” I answered.
“Perhaps you are not then aware that the
majority are allotropic forms of either elements
or chemical compounds crystallized in the earth
at some period of the world’s history. These


I26 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
crystallizations take place under conditions of
great pressure and heat. Now, scientists,
following out this idea, have recently succeeded
in making diamonds by the crystallization of
carbon.”
“I did not know how the artificial diamond
was made,” I replied, “but I have heard of it,
of course.”
“ Up to the present,” he continued, a flush of
excitement coming into his cheeks, “the only
gem which has been made artificially is the
diamond. Now, please listen—the sapphire,
ruby, topaz, emerald, and amethyst are all of
the same chemical composition, the colouring
ingredients alone differentiating them-——corun- .
dum, it is called—sesquioxide of aluminium,
you know. If that could be crystallized, price-
less gems could be made—real ones, mark you,
not imitations. To do this has been my work
for the last ten years, and I am at last close to
the right solution. I want to perfect it before
I die. That is why I accept your invitation,
Dr. Cato, and why I—-— ” He stopped abruptly,
clenched. his hands, and made a significant
gesture in the direction of the window.


THE DIANA SAPPHIRE 127
“ I hate Kort,” he said, dropping his voice to
a whisper; “ you and he do not belong to the
same world.”
“ Have you reasons for making such a grave
statement?” I asked.
“Yes, but I dare not and will not divulge
them; forget what I have said. The man is
antipathetic to me, that is all. Now to return
to my own story. If I succeed in crystallizing
the sesquioxide of aluminium, I shall have
effected a revolution in the precious stone trade
and secured a fortune for myself. You will say,
what does a dying man want with a fortune?
But I have my secret reasons for wishing to
acquire it. Without money I am powerless;
with it I can institute a lawsuit against one of
the greatest scoundrels of modern times. You
see, therefore, how essential it is that my life
should be prolonged.”
Looking at him as he spoke, I began to think
that Kort was right, and that he really was not
quite responsible for his actions. He was
intensely restless, clasping and unclasping his
painfully thin hands, and darting queer glances
at me out of his sunken eyes.


ms I THE SANCTUARY CLUB
“ Do you think you are near your great
discovery?” I asked.
“ Yes, l am close to it, and yet it baffles me;
but I have at least one consolation, it has been
made already by another.”
“You cannot be serious,” I could not help
saying.
“ I am, another has been before me in this dis-
covery. The sapphire, for instance, has already
been made by artificial means. Come, you don't
believe me—you shall see for yourself.”
He went across to the safe, unlocked it, and
pulled open the heavy doors, then he lifted out
with an apparent effort an enormous mass of
solid glass, the shape of an immense pear; it
was twice the size of a man’s head, and must
have weighed about thirty pounds. He laid this
glass globe down very gently on the table. I
gazed at it with the most intense curiosity, for in
the centre of the mass, towards the tapering end,
was embedded the most enormous sapphire I had
ever seen. It was of circular shape, and of the
deepest blue, with six white lines radiating from
the centre—these formed a sort of star. I
uttered an exclamation.


'  -_-..-.,.‘---.i‘
..' ._._____._ ___I_ T-_»_= _-.-sag
I30 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
me from earth. Feast your eyes upon my rays.
Here I lie safe in my hed of crystal. Seeh not
to possess yourself of me, for though I am
priceless beyond all gems, he who holds me shall
never see me again. However poor you are, you
will he poorer you try to hold me. Coveted by
a thousand hings, no gold can buy me. Try to
discover the secret of my hirth, to loo/e upon me
unveiled, and I shall vanish from your sight.”
“That is the old legend,” he continued, “and
I believe it to be as true as that you and I both
stand here. My impression is that, by some
lost art, the sesquioxide of aluminium was made
to crystallize by being put into molten glass.
On these lines I am working, and have been
working for years.”
“But does the legend prevent you from
breaking the glass?” I continued. “It must
be a great temptation to hold that gem.”
“It is a temptation to which I am never
going to yield,” he answered. “To tell the
truth, I am afraid of that legend. It is not
a meaningless jargon of words. It has been
observed and reverenced by the possessors of
this crystal globe for centuries. I believe that


THE DIANA SAPPHIRE I31
the sapphire inside that glass globe was made
artificially, and that if you were to break the
glass, the stone itself would vanish from sight.
I believe that its crystalline structure is in such
an extremely unstable condition that it depends
for its existence on the surrounding pressure
and support of the glass in which it was em-
bedded. That is my interpretation of the
legend, and it is my life’s work to effect a
reproduction.”
“An ingenious theory, certainly,” I said.
“Would it be an unfair question to ask you how
this interesting gem got into your possession?”
“The stone has been in our family for over
two hundred years,” he replied. “My great-
great-grandfather, who was British Consul at
Cadiz, in Spain, married a Moorish woman of
great beauty. The Moors, as you know, came
originally from Arabia. An uncle of hers had
the crystal containing the stone in his possession,
and gave it to her on his death-bed, on the sole
condition that she and her descendants would
always keep the sapphire unbroken in its crystal
bed. It was brought over to England when
my grandfather settled here, and was given to


THE DIANA SAPPHIRE I33
“Thank you. Condition number two is this.
May I pursue my experiments in one of your
laboratories ? ” _
“We have a small one adjoining the larger
laboratory, which I will place at your service,”
I replied.
He bowed gravely in acknowledgment of
this kindness, and then said-
“ My final and last condition is, that you will
keep what I have now told you an absolute and
complete secret.”
“ From the world, certainly,” I answered ;
“but it will be difficult to keep the fact of the
crystal’s existence from my brother doctor.”
“ Kort?” he interrupted. “ Kort knows
nearly as much about the Diana Sapphire as I
do myself.”
“I allude to our other partner,” I said, “Dr.
Chetwynd.”
“ Well,” he replied, somewhat impatiently,
“ tell him just what is necessary, but no more.”
“I will do so,” I said.
Soon afterwards Kort and I took our leave.
“Sherwin is a curious specimen of humanity,”
said my partner to me on our way back.


I34. I THE SANCTUARY CLUB
“ He interests me immensely,” I replied.
“He has a crank, poor fellow,” replied the
doctor. “I sympathize with him sincerely.
Once we were the greatest friends, although he
now imagines that I am his worst enemy,
a common case enough where the mind is
affected.”
I did not say any more. I fully believed
myself that Sherwin was on the borderland
between the sane and insane, but I had a queer
impression, which was destined soon to be
strengthened, that as far as Kort was concerned
there was method in his madness.
The next day the poor fellow arrived at the
Club. Everything had been done for his
comfort, and he was immediately placed in
the artificial Davos suite of rooms. He was
allowed, however, to go down-stairs at intervals,
and soon struck up a friendship with a member
of the Club of the name of Edward Banpfylde.
This man had been a resident for two or three
months. He was supposed to have great
wealth, and was a gem merchant of Hatton
Garden. Banpfylde was suffering from intense
nervous irritability, and the regular hours, good


THE DIANA SAPPHIRE I35
food, and a system of rest and refreshment
which were prescribed for him were having to
a certain extent beneficial results. But the
anxiety on the man's face whenever he thought
himself unwatched was very marked, and Kort
once said to me: “I do not believe in Banpfylde’s
wealth.”
“ But he is a millionaire,” I replied.
“ So he says, but what are words ? Time will
prove. He is consumed by anxiety; men of
his calibre have only one great subject of anxiety,
the loss or the making of money. He has
become great friends with Sherwin, however,
which seems natural enough, as they are both
so much interested in gems.”
Banpfylde was about sixty years of age,
stoutly built, with a red face, small keen eyes,
and an irritable manner.
There were times, however, when he could
be both good-natured and agreeable—beyond
doubt he pitied Sherwin, and took pains to add
to the interest of his fast-fleeting life. Not-
withstanding our treatment, his disease made
rapid progress, and we all knew that he could
not last many weeks ; he was cheerful, however,


I36 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
ali
and enjoyed his chats with Banpfylde. The
two men spent much time in the small laboratory
which we had given over for Sherwin’s use.
What they did there remains a mystery, but I
have little doubt that Sherwin confided at least
part of his secret to Banpfylde.
They had been together the whole of one
day, and Sherwin had gone up to his room
thoroughly worn out, when Chetwynd, who
watched his languid progress up-stairs, turned
to me and said, in a low voice—
“ Poor fellow, he may go off at any moment.
It needs but a bad fit of hemorrhage to settle
him—he is not following out our directions,
either, as he ought. He spends too much time
with Banpfylde.”
“Oh, I have no doubt they have a great
deal in common,” I replied; “they are both
professional gem fanciers.”
“It is my opinion,” said Chetwynd, “that
Banpfylde is picking his brains. He absolutely
dogs his footsteps. I don’t like it—I hope
there is no mischief brewing.”
“Mischief brewing?” I cried. “ What can
you mean?”


THE DIANA SAPPHIRE 137
“Well, I heard some news about our mil-
lionaire to-day.”
“ What?” I asked.
“ Simply this. To put it plainly, he is
smashed.”
“ What, Banpfylde? It cannot be true.”
“I fear it is. I happened to meet Balfour,
of the Old jewry City Police, this afternoon,
and there is a queer business in the air. I
cannot tell you exactly what he told me, but
this country is too hot for our guest, that’s about
it. Balfour thought it right to warn me, knowing
that Banpfylde was a member of our Club.”
I looked my astonishment at Chetwynd’s
news, but did not make any remark. After
a pause he continued: “You have told me
some of the story of the marvellous gem which
Sherwin has brought here, and which is locked
up for security in our safe. Now, putting two
and two together, I don’t believe in Banpfylde’s
disinterested friendship for our dying guest,
but I do think it possible that he may be after
the gem. The fact is, I dislike and distrust
Banpfylde as much as you dislike and distrust
our brother doctor.” ’


I “Z: L II:
I38 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
“Oh, the cases are by no means parallel,” I
exclaimed, with some impatience, and I had
scarcely said the words before Banpfylde and
Sherwin came down-stairs together. Sherwin
came straight up to me.
“ I thought you were in bed,” I cried.
“No, I am restless, I could not sleep,” he
said. “ I want (you to give me the key of the
safe. Banpfylde has begged of me to show
him the Diana. If you will come down-stairs
we will get it out and he can see it. He is
awfully keen about it,” he added, in a whisper.
“Show him the crystal to-morrow,” I said,
laying my hand on his wrist. “Look here,
you are feverish: do be rational and go to
bed.”
“ I tell you I could not sleep, and I am most
anxious to get Banpfylde’s opinion with regard
to the Diana; he is a great authority. He has
heard of the gem, of course, but has never
seen it.”
“Very well, it is your property,”I said; “ we
will go down. By the way, have you any
objection to Chetwynd accompanying us ? ”
“None whatever,” replied Sherwin; “I


.THE DIANA SAPPHIRE 139
should like you to see the Diana Sapphire,
Dr. Chetwynd.” He bowed courteously to
Chetwynd as he spoke, and just at that moment
Kort made his appearance.
“ What,” he cried, “not in bed yet, Sherwin?
This is very bad.”
“I am not going at present,” said Sher-
win. He half turned his back on Kort, and
glancing at Banpfylde, Chetwynd, and myself,
said—
“Well, gentlemen, shall we proceed ?”
As we crossed the hall to descend to the
basements I watched Kort. He was fond of
shrugging his shoulders; he shrugged them
now with a peculiar gesture and quietly followed
us. We all entered the laboratory and I
switched on the electric light.
When Sherwin saw that Kort was also in
the room, he said in a low voice to the latter:
“You have seen the gem before, but if you do
not find it irksome to look at it again, pray
remain.”
“ I shall not find it irksome,” answered Kort;
his eyes shone with a queer light, he came and
stood near Sherwin. We all clustered round


I40 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
the safe ; I unlocked it, and lifting out the great
glass globe, laid it on the bench.
“There you are,” said Sherwin, snatching
off the wash-leather cloth that covered it, and
stepping back. “ What do you think of the
Diana Sapphire, Mr. Banpfylde ?”
Banpfylde stepped forward. I heard him
utter a sudden exclamation, and then he stared
at the gem without speaking; his eyes were
widely dilated, the magnificent sapphire was
gleaming and scintillating beneath the glare of
the incandescents. Chetwynd, too, uttered a
sharp exclamation, and also stepped forward to
examine the gem. Banpfylde was now peering
into the crystal—he turned round.
“ Yes,” he said, quietly, “ you are quite right,
Sherwin; there is no other stone in the world
to equal it.”
His face, which had been deeply flushed, was
now pale.
“ I have heard of it, of course,” he continued.
“ By the way, you say it has a curious legend
attached to it. May I ask what it is? ”
“Certainly,” answered Sherwin, and, some-
what to my astonishment, he repeated the old


THE DIANA SAPPHIRE I4I
Arabic legend word for word—he evidently
/ knew it by heart.
Banpfylde listened attentively, his eyes still
riveted upon the stone. Chetwynd took out
a note-book, and jotted down the words as
Sherwin uttered them.
“Now, what do you suppose this all means?”
asked Chetwynd. “ Have you heard any inter-
pretation of that queer jargon?”
“Never,” answered Sherwin.; “but I have
made an interpretation for myself. Of that,
however, I am not disposed to speak. What
do you think of the legend, Mr. Banpfylde ? ”
“I think,” replied the dealer, “that the words
are mere nonsense, invented to keep thieves
from touching the gem. In its present state it
would be difficult to steal it.”
“But how do you suppose it got inside the
crystal?” I asked.
“ It was never put there by the hand of man,”
he replied instantly. “This external crystalline
covering is, I believe, not glass or crystal; I
believe it to be a kind of exceedingly pure
quartz—gneiss, you know. Sapphires are fre-
quently found embedded in this mineral. I
13. - -_-..i. ’| |


I42 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
believe that it has been cut and polished to
resemble this pear shape. If the crystal were
mine I should break it open and chance it,”
continued Banpfylde.
I happened at that moment to glance at
Chetwynd, who was still bending over the gem,
peering into the crystal, and examining it with
the deepest interest. His face looked full of
queer excitement.
“What do you suppose the value of that
sapphire would be if it were extracted?” asked
Kort, suddenly, of Banpfylde. Up to the pre-
sent he had not uttered a word. Banpfylde
turned and stared at him.
“ Nearer forty than thirty thousand pounds,”
he exclaimed. “By the way, Mr. Sherwin,”
he continued, “do you feel inclined to part
with it? It will make you a rich man.”
“Certainly not,” he answered, flushing.
“ But why?”
“I decline to tell my reasons. I thank you
for your opinion. We will put the crystal away
now, Dr. Cato.”
The next day Sherwin was much worse. He
was now obliged to keep to his bed, as the


THE DIANA SAPPHIRE I43
slightest movement brought on sharp attacks
of hemorrhage.
There came a night about a fortnight later
when he lay looking like a mere shadow. His
hollow eyes fixed themselves on my face. He
said, after a pause: “I shall die, Dr. Cato,
without fulfilling my life-work. I have no
property to leave behind me, and no friends to
leave it to.”
“But what about the Diana Sapphire?” I
asked. '
“ My solicitors will take charge of it until the
heir, whose property it is, comes to claim it.
My solicitors understand,” he added.
His voice was so faint I could scarcely’ catch
the words. I forbore to question him further
and went down-stairs. In the hall I met
Chetwynd.
Chetwynd laid his hand on my arm.
“By the way,” he said, “I have been making
some interesting experiments with regard to
the sapphire.”
“ Indeed!” I exclaimed. “ Of what nature?”
“This has been a day of strange things
altogether,” he continued. “Come to my


144 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
_-_._ .,.. . _
room, will you? I have something I want to
say.”
I followed him.
"To begin with,” he commenced, the moment
we found ourselves alone, “have you noticed
Banpfylde to-day ? ”
“Not specially,” I answered; “is anything
fresh the matter?”
“I should say the expression on his face
was matter enough,” was his answer. “He
has been drinking heavily, and I met him not
half-an-hour ago in the grounds pacing up and
down as though he were bereft of his senses.
He was muttering to himself in the queerest
way. He has beyond doubt got into a tight
corner, and does not know how to extricate
himself. To tell the truth, I wish he were not
here; such a man’s influence in the Club does
no good.”
“If your suspicions are founded on fact, he
cannot stay here much longer,” I answered;
“but now, what about the sapphire?”
“Ah, I am coming to that. I do believe I
have struck something very curious: no less
than the key to the legend.”


I46 THE SANCTUARY CLUB


cooled a crust is formed while the internal mass
is still liquid. This tends to contract on cool-
ing, but is prevented by the molecular forces
which attach it to the crust. In this state,
unless it is struck, or its tail broken off, it will
last as such for centuries, and look like an
ordinary bit of glass; but when struck and
broken it flies into powder with an explosion.
Now, my impression is that the sapphire is
inside a Prince Rupert’s Drop of enormous
size.”
“ Good God ! ” Iexclaimed.
“I am pretty certain of it from its peculiar
shape. Now, you have heard what sort of a
report that little thing made when it was
broken, but if the crystal which is in our safe
down-stairs were smashed, the explosion would
be terrific. It would certainly blind the man
who broke it, and, in all probability, kill him,
or, at any rate, disfigure and injure him as
much as a charge of dynamite. Thus the
sapphire would vanish from his sight for ever.”
For a moment I could scarcely speak; then
I inquired—
“What made you think of this?”


I50 THE SANCTUARY CLUB

God! can’t you see for yourself?” He grasped
my arm more tightly than ever, and stared
wildly out across the room.
“You have had a nightmare,” I answered;
“there is nothing to see. The sapphire is
perfectly safe.”
“It is not. I tell you I see them taking it
now. Quick! Go and stop them. That
dream was sent to me—was sent to me. Kort
would stop at nothing--nothing—and Banp-
fylde is his tool. I feel it—I amcertain of
it. Oh, Dr. Cato, won’t you have pity on me?
Will you not go down-stairs and find out for
yourself if the safe is untampered with?”
“Very well,” I answered; “if you will only
lie down and remain quiet I will go and see
and bring you word.” I
“You will? You promise?” he cried. “You
would not break your word to a dying man ?”
“I would break my word to no man,” I
answered. “Trust me, Sherwin. I will go
down as quickly as possible and come back ta
H
you.
I left the room, resolving to visit the labor: .-
tory, ascertain for myself that Sherwin’s will


THE DIANA SAPPHIRE I51
words were the mere hallucination of his brain,
and then spend the rest of the night by the
dying man’s side. Crossing the hall I opened
a door leading to the laboratory steps and
went quickly down. Half-way down I paused,
stopped, and listened. Late as the hour was,
some one was moving about below. I was not
seriously alarmed at this, for Chetwynd often
worked in the laboratory until morning. I
hurried on, therefore—a light streamed from
under the door. I flung it open and entered.
I was just about to utter my friend’s name
when the words were arrested on my lips.
Chetwynd was nowhere to be seen, but fully
dressed and standing at the bench was Banp-
fylde. I could not at first ascertain what he
was doing, but at the sound of my voice he
swung sharply round.
“May I ask, sir, what your business is here
at this hour?” I inquired. “Are you not
aware that it is against the rules for members
to come to the laboratory?”
“I am perfectly well aware of that fact, Dr.
Cato,” he replied, in the suavest tones, and
“with wonderful self-control; “but the emer-


I52 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
gency which brought me here to-night was sc
exceptional that I felt justified in breaking 2.
well-known rule. For days past I have beer
suffering from spasmodic asthma, the only thing
that relieves me is oxygen—I have a cylinder
of my own which I always have in my room.
It was empty; I came here to fetch a fresh
one.”
It was true that his position corroborated his
words, for he had in his hand a small forty
cubic feet cylinder, which he had taken from
the cupboard.
“Whatever the emergency, you had no right
to do it,” I replied; “ the doctors in this estab-
lishment expect to be summoned in case of need,
and you did distinctly wrong when you broke
the rules. I must now ask you to go to your
room. Kindly do so without delay.”
He did not answer me for a moment, but
stood looking full at me. He was a powerfully
built man, some inches taller than myself. His
lips were compressed, and he began to breathe
heavily. I knew well that he was not really
suffering from asthma—he had lied to me.
What his motive was I could not tell. Suddenly


THE DIANA SAPPHIRE I53
his eyes dropped, and I saw that he was looking
intently at my waistcoat pocket, where I generally
kept the key of the safe in which the Diana
Sapphire had been placed. He had seen me
produce it from that receptacle on the night
when Sherwin had shown us the sapphire. It
was not there now. I always locked it at night
in my own small safe up-stairs, but as he glanced
in the direction of my coat I guessed what he
was about to do in a flash. Before I could even
cry out or utter a word the man had sprung
upon me, and brought me by the suddenness
and violence of the attack to the floor. His
great hand was upon my throat, and I saw his
bloodshot eyes within an inch of mine. I tried
toshout for help, but with one of his hands
crushing my throat I could not utter a word.
The next instant, with the other hand, he slipped
from his coat-pocket a short jemmy, and brought
it down upon my head with all his force. I
remembered nothing more.
When I came to myself I was lying upon the
stone floor, sick and faint. I wondered dimly
where I was, then memory returned in a flash
and I struggled to rise; but I was firmly bound


THE DIANA SAPPHIRE 155
anxiety—the next instant the safe door swung
back. I saw Banpfylde reach in his hand and
draw out the great Diana Sapphire. He laid
it on the stone flags and picked up the short
steel jemmy he had just been using. Dazed
and sick as I felt, I knew in a flash what he
was about to do. He was going to smash the
surrounding glass in which the sapphire lay,
and so liberate the gem. If Chetwynd’s theory
were true, and that glass was, in reality, an
enormous Prince Rupert's Drop, the man was
rushing to his fate, and I, in my present position,
was powerless to save him.
“Stop, for God’s sake stop ! ” I cried, but my
voice was choked down to a hoarse growl.
Steadying the great mass of glass with one
hand, and gathering all his strength, he brought
the jemmy down with one terrific blow upon the
tail of the crystal globe. There was a deafening
explosion as of a thousand cannon. Every
light was instantly extinguished, and with a
shriek of pain I heard the miserable man plunge
heavily forward upon the stone flags. We were
in total darkness, but at that awful instant I
could have sworn that something or some one


156 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
brushed quickly past me and out of the room.
I felt the draught made by a hurried movement.
In sick despair I made another frantic effort to
rise, but all in vain—I was tied down too tightly.
The next instant, to my intense relief, I heard
the clamour of approaching voices, quick foot-
steps hurried down the corridor, and Chetwynd
and Kort, holding lights, rushed in. To release
me from my bonds was the work of a moment,
and then Kort ran up to Banpfylde and turned
the light full on his face. Chetwynd and I gazed
in horrified silence at what a moment before had
been a man—living, breathing, in the full pos-
session of every faculty. The terrific explosion
had done its deadly work—the Diana Sapphire
had avenged itself—a large portion of the man’s
skull had absolutely been blown away. He
must have died as he fell.
“ I was right,” muttered Chetwynd.
As for me, I grasped the edge of the nearest
bench to support myself. I felt faint and sick.
Kort laid the dead man quietly back on the
floor, then he turned and faced us.
“What has happened?” he asked. “What
caused the explosion? ”


THE DIANA SAPPHIRE 157
I pointed to the safe.
“The Diana Sapphire,” I exclaimed; “the
legend was true.”
Kort was about to say something further
when a sound behind caused us all to turn our
heads. Sherwin, partly dressed, his face ghastly
white, his eyes almost starting from his head,
was standing in the doorway. The noise of the
terrific explosion had doubtless drawn him to
the place. I rushed up to him and laid detain-
ing hands on his shoulders.
“Back, back, Sherwin,” I cried; “this is no
place for you. I will take you to your room
and explain.”
“Explain?” he cried. “I see for myself.
My dream was true. Don’t touch me, Cato,
don’t touch me. Oh, my God! the sapphire,
--where is it? ”
He did not take the least notice of poor
Banpfylde’s dead body, but began frantic-
ally to peer about, going down on his
hands and knees to examine for the lost
treasure.
“Gone,” he said; “the legend was true.”
He looked full up at Kort, then staggered


I58 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
forward and lay insensible, not far from the
dead body of the would-be burglar.
“We must take him away before he re-
covers,” said Chetwynd; “this will finish him,
poor chap.”
Between us we lifted the dying man from
the floor, took him up-stairs, and laid him on
his bed. He lay insensible for over an hour,
and then feebly opened his eyes. He looked
at me, but without recognition; indeed, he
never recognized any one again. It was a
relief to feel that he had lost all memory of the
terrible scene which he had witnessed. He
murmured faintly, and I thought he said the
word “ Isobel,” but I am not sure. He died at
nine o'clock on the following morning.
Early on the ensuing day we three doctors
met in the laboratory. Banpfylde’s body had
been removed, and the de'6ris caused by the
terrific explosion had been partly cleared away.
“ But what does it mean ? ” said Kort. “You
two seem to know something—I want an
explanation—for God’s sake tell me what
really happened?” '.
“ It is about the strangest thing I ever heard
-~iij—~


THE DIANA SAPPHIRE I59
of,” answered Chetwynd. “ That glass crystal
was in reality an enormous Prince Rupert’s
Drop.”
I gazed at Kort as my brother doctor spoke.
My impression was that he knew of this already.
If he did, however, he did not turn a hair; his
dark eyes were fixed with intense interest on
Chetwynd’s face.
“You have heard of a Prince Rupert’s Drop,
of course? ” continued Chetwynd.
“Yes, but I have never seen one.”
“The sapphire was embedded in one. I had
thought out the whole idea no later than
yesterday, and told Cato about it. I little
knew how soon my theory was to be verified.
The terrific explosion which occurred last night
proves that the sapphire was imprisoned in
U
one.
Kort took up a fragment of glass which still
remained on the floor, examined it carefully,
and laid it down.
“But there is something still stranger to be
explained,” continued Chetwynd, “and with
regard to that I have formed no theory at
present.”


16o THE SANCTUARY CLUB
“ To what do you allude?” asked Kort.
“I allude to the strange way in which
Banpfylde opened the safe. That was no
work of an ordinary jewel dealer. It was
something beyond all burglars’ resources.
See for yourselves: the lock has been melted
out with this Bunsen burner—look, the blow-
pipe junction runs to that oxygen cylinder-—-a
cut above drills. It was nothing less than a
masterpiece. See, the man literally melted out
the iron like butter with the oxyhydrogen flame.
There was some one behind this job—a chemist,
and no ordinary one at that. I shall never
believe that that was Banpfylde’s work, and,
what is more,” continued Chetwynd, “I shall
not rest until I find out who instigated him to
do the job.”
“You are never likely to know,” said Kort.
“ I happened to hear that the man was in des-
perate circumstances, and desperate men find
desperate means to recover themselves. But,
by the way, what has become of the sapphire?
Did it disappear when the glass was shattered ?"
“It looks like it,” answered Chetwynd; “I
have searched for it, but have seen it nowhere.”


THE DIANA SAPPHIRE I61
“Then poor Sherwin’s theory was right,” I
could not help saying; but as I uttered the
words I glanced at Kort. For one quarter of
an instant he had given himself away. The
look of relief on his face was too marked. I
thought once again of that footfall which had
hurried past me in the dark, of the slight draught
made by a person moving quickly. Had Kort
stolen the priceless sapphire? Was Sherwin
right in his suspicions of the man whom I also
deeply distrusted? What was the story of
Isobel? Why had Sherwin died with his secret
unrevealed?
“At least one thing is true,” said Chetwynd,
turning suddenly to me in that moment of still-
ness in which it almost seemed as if Kort and I
were challenging each other. “At least one
thing is obvious: the Diana Sapphire has proved
the truth of its own legend. It has vanished
from our sight.”


EAST OF NORTH I63
“I don’t like the man,” I said, with vehe-
mence.
My brother partner’s usually imperturbable
face wore an expression of annoyance.
“My dear fellow,” he said, shrugging his
shoulders, “what a restless imagination you
have! Now, I am a profound admirer of Kort,
his ability is undoubted, and I consider him a
gentleman in every sense of the word.”
He had scarcely spoken before the door was
opened, and Kort himself appeared. He came
forward and dropped into the nearest chair.
“I want to talk to you both,” he said; “I
have something to tell you. I thought of taking
you separately into my confidence, but as you
are here I may as well speak to you together.”
He paused, and looked first at Chetwynd and
then at me. “ I am in a dilemma of a painful
nature,” he continued.
“Indeed, and what is that?” I asked. My
tone was the reverse of cordial. Kort gave me
a quick glance, then he turned to Chetwynd.
“ I crave your sympathy,” he continued. “ I
am a married man—I have bad news of my
wife.”


164 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
“You married!” cried Chetwynd, springing
to his feet; “and why did you not tell us so
when we entered into partnership? ”
“Because the fact of my being married or
single was a personal matter,” he replied,
quietly. “I did not wish to worry either of
you with my private affairs, but circumstances
have lately arisen which make it important for
me to have Isobel here.”
I started and glanced at him eagerly.
“You have already seen my wife,” he said,
returning my gaze. “Yes, she was the lady
who called here one day several weeks ago.
We have been married for some years. She
does not enjoy good health, poor girl, and I
have kept her with a maid in town and gone
to see her whenever possible; but she has been
so much worse lately that it is necessary for me
to have her under my own roof. She will, of
course, come here as an ordinary member, and
I shall pay the customary fee for her.”
“ In your case that can scarcely be expected,”
said Chetwynd. “I will own,” he continued,
“to a feeling of disappointment that you should
have kept your marriage a secret from Cam


I66 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
we will do all in our power to restore her to
health.”
“Oh, I must be her doctor,” said Kort;
“I have studied her symptoms for years and
thoroughly understand them.” As he spoke, an
uneasy sparkle came into his dark eyes, vanish-
ing the next moment. “I am much obliged to
you both, and I only regret that I did not take
you into my full confidence before,” he added.
Two days later Mrs. Kort arrived. Her
husband brought her himself to the Sanctuary
in one of our private carriages. She was a
slender, very young-looking woman. Her com-
plexion and hair were so dark as to give her
quite a foreign appearance, but those wonderful
deep-blue eyes, to which I have already alluded,
made the whole expression of her gentle face
one of wonderful distinction. There was a
quiet dignity, too, about her manner and the
tones of her sweet voice; but in repose that
highly bred and lovely face was full of unutter-
able sadness. It was only when she spoke and
smiled, which she did, alas! very rarely, that
it woke up into its full beauty. Her husband
led her into the hall, bending over her assidu-


168 THE SANCTUARY CLUB


be here, and‘ to make your acquaintance,
Dr. ”
“ Cato is my name,” I said.
“Dr. Cato,” she replied, smiling faintly as
she spoke.
“Had you not better come at once to your
apartments, Mrs. Kort?” said the maid at this
juncture, coming forward and speaking in a
brisk voice.
“Oh, yes, Susan, yes,” answered her mistress.
She got up ; Kort gave her his arm and took
her up-stairs.
'The next day Mrs. Kort came down-stairs
and joined the rest of the guests. Wherever

she went she made friends, and every one
but
present was more or less interested in her;
wherever she went, too, she carried that look
of indescribable sadness about with her. What
worry had she lived through? What mystery
surrounded her past? She talked little, and at
intervals complained of that curious and quite
abnormal want of memory. But up in hf?!‘
apartments, where Chetwynd and I constantly
visited her, she was as bright and even cheerful
as any young woman I had ever met.


EAST OF NORTH I69
Kort himself insisted on being her physician.
He was quite assiduous in his attentions, and
seldom left her long alone with either Chetwynd
or myself.
“She is better,” he said one day, a week
after her arrival; “the Davos air is doing her
a world of good. I must take a chateau for her
in the Swiss mountains; she is so happy when
she is up in her Davos suite.”
“But surely,” I answered, “she ought to be
happy elsewhere. That queer brain affection
from which she suffers ought to be looked into
very carefully, Kort. It is hard on a pretty
girl like your wife to be banished to one suite
of rooms.”
“She has had already the best advice,” he
answered, in a tone which evidently resented
any further interference on my part. “ But the
day is a fine one—bracing, yet not too bracing
—-I will run up-stairs now and ask her if she
would like to have a drive.”
He had scarcely left the room before Chet-
wynd came in.
“I had a letter this morning from a Mr.
Charles Ridley,” he said, “a new prospective


I70 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
member of the Club. I asked him to call this
afternoon. He is just home from the usual
round of Bads, and I should think is full of
maladies imaginaires. ”
“ What time do you expect him ? ” I asked.
“Oh, any time now. He said he would be
here about three o'clock. I will show him over
the place; you had better come with us.”
Almost immediately afterwards there was a
ring at the front door, and the next moment
the butler announced Mr. Charles Ridley. A
tall, thin, fair-haired man was shown in. He
might have been about forty years of age. He
was dressed with the greatest care, wearing a
frock-coat, in the lapel of which was a pink
carnation. Holding his hat in his hand he
came daintily across the room as Chetwynd
rose to greet him.
“ Mr. Ridley, I believe ? ’,’ said Chetwynd.
“That is my name,” he replied. “You have
heard of me from our mutual friends, the jack-
sons. I am tired of wandering in Continental
spas, and hearing great things of your Club am.
anxious to inspect it.”
Chetwynd introduced him to me.


EAST OF NORTH I71
“We shall have pleasure in conducting you
over the place,” he said. “ Will you come with
us now? ”
Chetwynd led the way, and Ridley and I
followed. We showed him over the main part
of the establishment, took him to the wing
specially set aside for our various hydropathic
treatments, and showed him that part of the
Davos suite not occupied by Mrs. Kort.
He expressed himself delighted with every-
thing, and made one or two pertinent remarks,
showing that he was a well-informed man.
“This is just the thing for me,” he said;
“you have, I see, one of the Exchange Tele-
graph instruments in the smoking-room. It is
most convenient having racing results out here
a hf! .'-_' '
as soon as one would get them in one’s own
club in Pall Mall.”
“Then you are interested in the turf?” I asked.
“Oh, I dabble a little for amusement,” he
replied, with a laugh.
“I am an idle man, and
must do something, ‘pour passer /e temps.’ I / I
shall enjoy this place—it seems quite an ideal
place for repose after the eternal irritation of
foreign hotels.”
I‘


I72 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
As we were descending the staircase after
going all over the great house I saw that Kort
was standing in the hall. He was smoking,
with his back to the fire-place. As we ap-
proached him I noticed that he was regarding
us rather curiously, and I fancied that I saw
him give a start—his cheroot certainly dropped
on the rug. He picked it up and turned to us.
Chetwynd immediately introduced Ridley.
Ridley did not even bow or take the slightest
notice of Kort’s outstretched hand. He stepped
back, and a deep, red-brick colour suffused
his face. It was all too evident that the men
had met before. Before Ridley could utter a
word, however, Kort stepped briskly forward.
“Mr. Ridley!” he exclaimed, “I remember
you now perfectly.” Again he held out his
hand, his mouth smiled, but not his eyes.
There was no answering smile on Ridley’s face.
He returned Kort’s glance steadily, and said,
in a quiet tone——
“How do you do, Mr. Kort? This is B
strange meeting--strange, and unlooked for.”
The little scene scarcely occupied a minute,
and we were all chatting easily again -'=1lm05l¢


EAST OF NORTH 173
directly; but I could not help watching Kort’s
manner, for I had never seen his face wear
quite such an expression before. Usually so
quiet and self-possessed, there was now a look
of unrest, if not fear, in his eyes. He sat down
and crossed one leg over the other, and the
rapid but regular movement of the foot told me
that his heart was beating fast—a secret sign
I learned years ago, and often used, unsuspected
by patients themselves. It told ‘me he was
restraining himself for all he was worth.
Ridley stayed a few moments longer, pro-
mised to come to the Club in a couple of days,
and left us.
I did not say a word of my suspicions to
Chetwynd, but I continued to watch Kort. I
saw that he was not himself: he had lost some
of his self-control, and evidently did not wish to
find himself alone in my presence.
Ridley arrived towards the end of the week,
and now, somewhat to my surprise, I saw that
he and Kort were on friendly terms. Our new
member was a good-humoured but uninteresting
individual, the one great interest in his life being
to read the sporting papers and send telegrams


EAST OF NORTH I75
The moment I uttered the words Ridley
bent forward in his chair; he stared at Kort,
then he said, in a low tone of intense astonish-
IIl€I1t-—-
“ Is your wife here?”
“Yes,” answered Kort. His manner was
nonchalant, and yet at the same time had a
decided note of suppressed resentment in its
tone.
“Yes,” he said again, in an emphatic manner,
“my wife is here.”
“I should like to meet Mrs. Kort again,”
was Ridley’s reply.
“My wife is ill at present,” answered Kort;
“ I have been obliged to keep her up-stairs for
a week. When she is fit to receive you I am
sure it will be a pleasure to her to renew your
acquaintance.” As he spoke, he rose and
looked steadily into Ridley’s eyes. There was
a sort of challenge in his expression.
Ridley tapped his foot impatiently.
“When you say your wife is ill I believe
you,” he said, emphatically; “the miracle is
that she should be alive.”
Kort made no answer to this, but his sallow


176 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
face seemed to me to become paler than its
wont.
“I am going up to my wife now,” he said,
after a moment of almost oppressive silence.
“ Good-night, gentlemen.”
When he had gone, Ridley turned with a
laugh to me.
“ A little put out, eh?” he said. “ I had him
there. May I ask you two gentlemen where
you came across your amiable third partner?”
His question evidently annoyed Chetwynd.
, “As Mr. Kort happens to be our partner,
we decline to discuss him,” he said. Then he
glanced at me: “I am going to follow Kort'S
example, and am off to bed,” he said.
Ridley lay back in his chair.
“So you are both under that man’s fascin-
ation,” he remarked. “Well, it’s no affair
of mine.”
I turned the conversation, but during the
night that followed I often thought of Ridley’s
words and the look of ill-concealed apprehension
on Kort’s face.
The next day I happened to be in a distant
part of the grounds with our new patient. I


EAST OF NORTH 177
noticed that he was in a state of high irritability,
and, guessing the cause, asked him how his
speculations were going on.
“I hope everything is all right,” I said, in
conclusion.
“Things are far from all right,” was his
answer. “I am a born gambler, Dr. Cato; I
own it to my discredit. I have been heavily
hit the last few weeks.”
“Is the pleasure worth the loss?” I asked.
“Backing horses always seems to me not only
a dull but an expensive amusement.”
“Perhaps so,” he answered, “but at present
I must go on. I don't mind telling you that
I have lost a large sum, but I am quite certain
to get it back next week at Kempton Park.
After next week I intend to give up the
pleasures of the turf——that is, when I have
recouped my losses. I have obtained certain
information which I can depend on as reliable,
and I am making a heavy plunge.”
“I hope you will be successful,” I answered.
“Thanks,” he replied. He took his cigar
from his mouth, remained silent for a moment,
then turned to me.
M


178 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
“Dr. Cato,” he said, suddenly, “I saw that
I annoyed you and Dr. Chetwynd last night
when I spoke as I did to your partner, Kort.
I wish to assure you now, however, that I did
so with intention. The fact is, I have been a
good deal exercised in my mind lately as to
whether or not I am justified in making a
communication to you of a serious nature. It
relates to your partner. I was considerably
amazed to find him here, and still more
astonished to hear that his wife is an inmate
of this house.”
“ Well, and what of that?” I asked.
“If you knew as much as I do, you would
well say ‘What of that?’ Ought I to enlighten
you or ought I not?”
“ Do you know anything against Mrs.
Kort?” was my next question.
“Against /zer ?—good heavens, no! except
indeed that she is a victim. May I tell you
more, or would you rather be left in the
dark?”
“ I am afraid I cannot listen to you," I said,
after a pause. “Mr. Kort being our partnfif
we are bound to hear nothing against him; 01‘


EAST OF NORTH 179
at least, if we do, he must know of what you
accuse him, and you must be prepared to prove
your words.”
“Better leave things alone for the present,”
he said, after a pause. “I met him five years
ago in Vienna. He is a man of undoubted
ability and fascination.” He made the last
remark slowly, and with a peculiar smile
hovering round the corners of his mouth.
The next instant we both turned our heads;
there was a light step on the grass behind us.
Kort came up.
“I just came out to tell you, Ridley,” he
said, “that the Dolphin’s price has come
through on the tape. Twenty to one.”
“Twenty to one!” cried Ridley, his whole
face undergoing a magical change. “By
jove! that’s splendid; they're a smart clique
in Russell’s stables. Now's my chance. I'll
drive down to Gregson, my bookmaker, at
once and get on all I can. The price will be
back to ten to one to-morrow night. I am
much obliged to you, Kort.”
He hurried off, and Kort seated himself by
my side.


180 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
“ Plunges pretty heavily, eh?” he said.
“Yes, but I suppose he is a rich man,” I
answered.
“ Is he? I happen to know to the contrary.
From a source that must be nameless I hear
that he is on his last legs. He means to try
and recoup himself by a big plunge on the
Dolphin, Captain Harrison’s horse. He has
lost close on £40,000 this last fortnight, and I
know he is in a desperate condition.”
“ By the way,” I said, “he tells me he knew
you in Vienna five years ago.”
Kort laughed.
“Yes, I knew him, poor chap. lfl ml’
opinion he is not all there, the inevitable result
of a lazy and self-indulgent life. I should not
be surprised to see him go in for G.P.I.”
“General paralysis of the insane!” I cried;
“ I don’t see much sign of that.”
“Well, I may be wrong. I only know this,
that if the Dolphin should lose the Sunbury
Handicap at Kempton next week, I should no!
like to be responsible for what Ridley mighl
do. I only hope he will win, for his own sakfi>
He has asked me to go down with him, and I


EAST OF NORTH 183
added, “my head aches too frightfully for me
to bear any ordinary conversation just now.
Go away, please, leave me.”
The maid Susan bustled into the room.
“I must ask you, sir, to leave my mistress
at once,” she said; “these attacks of strong
excitement come on now and then; the one
thing to bring Mrs. Kort round again is
absolute quiet.”
I left the room, determined to go down-
stairs, find Kort, tell him I did not like his
wife’s state, and ask him to see her with me,
as I believed in the old adage that two heads
are better than one.
Mrs. Kort's sitting-room opened into a large
ante-room, which was also kept at a high
altitude. I was just going through this room
into the outer corridor, when the sound of
voices in the passage without fell on my ears.
“You had better be civil to me,” said
Ridley, “for I hold your reputation, and worse,
in my hands.”
“You can prove nothing,” I heard Kort
reply, and then the two men went down the
corridor.


184 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
The next morning, at ten o’clock, Kort,
Ridley, and I started in the wagonette for
Kempton. I noticed that Kort, with a fore-
sight for our comfort unusual with him, had
provided a large hamper, containing, he told
me, enough luncheon for four, as he had
invited Dot Fisher, the jockey, to lunch
with us.
We arrived at the course before the first
race, and drew up outside the railings.
Leaving the wagonette in charge of the groom,
we strolled into the ring and heard the
Dolphin’s name mentioned pretty frequently
between punter and bookmaker. He was now
a strong second favourite at 5 to 1, and Ridley
whispered to me that the thing was a certainty.
The horse had already won a trial that must
put all the other horses out of court. Although
the man was full of hope, he was also in a state
of most pitiable excitement, and I could not
help feeling sorry for him, and hoping that
he would succeed in his wild venture. Al
present his hopes were roseate, for the Dolphin
was certainly the most admired horse in thfi
paddock, and was in the highest possible


I86 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
out his handkerchief, mopping his face and
wiping his eyes; “I don't want a bath.”
The soda-water had gone chiefly into his
face and over his cap and coat. We al
laughed as Kort with an angry exclamatior
flung the bottle down on the grass and openec
another. At that moment the saddling bell f0]
the Sunbury Handicap sounded, and Fishe:
sprang from the box.
“Good luck go with you,” cried Ridley
“remember, it’s a monkey, if you win.”
The jockey turned and waved his hand a
he disappeared into the weighing-room.
“It will soon be over now,” said Ridley, hi
face paling as he spoke.
Five minutes later the fifteen runners cam
cantering down the course-—a pretty sight-
Fisher upon the Dolphin, who carried himse
as if his victory were already prejudgec
After one or two breaks away, the flag fell t
a good start, and we stood up watching th
horses through our glasses as they streame
out into view.
Suddenly, I heard Ridley utter a cry. H5
hand gripped my arm with trembling violence


EAST OF NORTH I87
“Good heavens! Look! he has bolted—
he is mad--I am ruined!” he cried, flinging
himself back on the seat in an access of
despair.
It was perfectly true. A babel of shouts
came from the ring, for the Dolphin had left
the course and was galloping wildly across the
ground. In a few moments he was pulled up
and Fisher had dismounted, as half-a-dozen
men rushed up to him. What were they
doing? One of them had caught the Dolphin,
and another, for some inexplicable reason, was
leading the jockey by the arm towards the
paddock.
Ridley remained dazed by the fearful cata-
strophe, while Kort and I leapt down and
hurried across the inclosure. We had not even
seen what horse had won. In a few moments
Kort, who knew some of the stewards, led me
to the room where Fisher was seated. We
quickly learned what had happened. just after
the start the jockey had been seized with some
strange affection of his sight, and could no
longer steer his horse.
“What can it be?” I cried, as Kort raised


I88 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
Fisher’s head and looked into his eyes. There
was a queer look in them: the pupils were
enormously dilated, and did not re-act to light.
“Some obscure cerebral lesion,” said Kort.
“ He must remain quiet; it may pass off.”
“Cerebral lesion!” I cried; “impossible
there is no paralysis.”
It was certainly the most extraordinary case
I had ever seen, and I failed to account for ll
in any way; but as we left the jockey in the
care of his friends, and went back to Ridley, 2
wild thought flashed through my brain. jus‘
before the race Fisher had been drenched witl
soda-water, a large portion of the content:
having gone into his face and eyes. Kort hat
brought the soda-water with the other pro
visions to the racecourse. Was this bottls
specially prepared? Did it contain————? did not allow myself even to whisper the
thought which came to me, but hurrying t<
the wagonette I looked for the bottle. O
course it was gone. Without it, whatevei
suspicion I might entertain, nothing could bl
done. What did it all mean? Into wha
dreadful maze of crime had we entered?


EAST OF NORTH 189
In a few words I told Ridley what had
happened. He scarcely seemed to hear or
care. After a pause he suggested that we had
better return home at once.
The journey back was dismal, and a gloom
hung over Ridley and myself. My suspicions
were stronger than ever, but I had no clue to
guide me, and failed to see the slightest loop-
hole by which I could bring Kort to book.
Of our party he alone was cheerful, and offered
many clever suggestions to account for Fisher’s
sudden and mysterious attack.
The next morning, though evidently still
much shaken, Ridley seemed more himself. I
met him about eleven o’clock going out with
his camera to take some stereoscopic views
of the grounds. I applauded him for his
intention, and told him I was glad he was
pulling himself together. I then went to my
own private sitting-room. I happened to be
rather busy that morning, and was soon
absorbed in accounts, forgetting everything
else in this employment. I had not been
long busy before Kort knocked and entered.
He looked peculiarly grave.


190 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
“ Have you seen Ridley anywhere about?
he asked.
“Yes,” I answered; “I met him going ou
with his camera some time ago.”
“ How was he? How did-he look?”
“I thought more cheerful; why do yo
ask ? ”
“ Because I do not feel easy about him. H
came to me early this morning, and there was
nasty look on his face. I disliked his manne
and the way he spoke.”
“What do you mean ?” I asked.
“I have already mentioned my fears Wit
regard to him. The shock of yesterday ht
thoroughly unhinged him, and l do not kno.
what may happen. I have tried to cheer hi1
up, and recommended him to do some photi
graphy. If he broods over his loss he ma
lose his reason. By the way, I see you 81
doing accounts. There are several things
want to talk to you about with reference I
them. Let me see, what is the time?” H
glanced at the clock. “ Five minutes to twel\
—-shall we go into them now ? ”
“Very well,” I answered, and we plungfi





[Pug
"There lay the poor fellow.”
The Sanctum" Club]


EAST OF NORTH 191
into a quantity of miscellaneous matters. We '
had been engaged about half-an-hour when
Chetwynd quickly entered.
“The most awful thing has happened,” he
cried. “Ridley has shot himself through the
head with a revolver—his body has just been
found in the grounds. It could not have been
more than half-an-hour ago.”
Kort and I sprang to our feet.
“What! ” I exclaimed, “is he dead?”
“ Quite dead. He was found by one of the
gardeners, who came running to tell me.”
“Poor fellow,” said Kort, “that accursed
racing. ‘ Fool that I was to let him go alone!
I feared it, Cato, and told you so. It is too
dreadful.”
“ I have sent for the police,” said Chetwynd;
“you had both better come down with me, the
inspector will want to see us all.”
We left the room, and Chetwynd leading
the way we soon reached the spot. Yes, there
lay the poor fellow among the low bushes in
the plantation about a quarter of a mile from the
house. His camera was beside him, and a
revolver lay beneath his right hand. As we


192 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
looked at the body an indescribable feeling of
the utmost horror assailed me. The vague
events of the last few weeks seemed to have cul-
minated in this awful tragedy. Of course there
would be an inquest, and at that inquest I should
have to give evidence. The truth, the whole
truth, and nothing but the truth on my oath——-
the evidence I should be bound to give in the
interests of justice would include what I had
overheard pass between Kort and the man
whose dead body now lay before me.
As these thoughts passed through my brain
I took a step forward.
“ Don't touch him,” cried Kort. “ Leave
him exactly as he is for the police to see. Ah,
here is the inspector coming now.” He spoke
quietly, not like a man who had anything to
fear.
The inspector of police made his examination
carefully and quickly, asked a few questions, and
then, taking possession of the camera and the
revolver, had the body placed on the ambul-
ance, which was led away to the mortuary.
We then returned to the house.
That night I slept badly. The next day the


194 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
or series of bets. He lost a bet that would
have brought him in £50,000 on the Dolphin
at Kempton Park the day before yesterday.”
“ The horse lost, I understand, by some
accident occurring to the jockey?” continued
the coroner ; “with this, however, we have
nothing to do. Did the deceased say anything
to you, Mr. Kort, which would lead you to
suspect that in the event of his losing he might
take his life? ”
“ He told me,” answered Kort, “ that he was
in a desperate condition, and that if he lost he
was mined. His manner certainly did lead
me to suspect that such an action was possible,
and I mentioned my fears to Dr. Cato.”
“ How long have you known the deceased ?”
asked the coroner.
I was watching Kort sharply, and saw that
at this moment he gave an uneasy gesture.
His words, however, were perfectly quiet.
“ I met Mr. Ridley five years ago in Vienna,
but had not seen him since till he became a
member of the Sanctuary Club.”
“ You think,” said the coroner, “that the
wound on the head was self-inflicted ? "


EAST OF NORTH 195
“ Certainly,” answered Kort, “ and,” he added,
“of such a nature that death would be quite
instantaneous.”
This ended Kort’s evidence, and I was then
called. In the first few answers to the questions
put to me I merely corroborated Kort’s evidence
as to Ridley’s heavy loss, and then I added
that in all probability the wound was self-
inflicted.
“Why do you say ‘probability,’ Dr. Cato?
Do you mean that there is a possibility of such
a wound being given by some one else?”
“A possibility, certainly,” I replied.
“Have you any reason to suppose that
the deceased had an enemy?”
“I am not aware that he had one,” I
answered.
“ Do you know of any one to whom his death
would be an advantage? ”
At this question I hesitated—a wild tumult
of thoughts was racing through my brain. The
coroner quietly repeated his remark.
“From something he mentioned to me, and
also from subsequent remarks which I happened
to overhear, I have such a suspicion,” I replied


I96 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
slowly. Then I added, “ Do you demand this
as evidence from me? ”
“Certainly; you must tell us everything you
know.”
I glanced at Kort, and saw that his eyes
were fixed on my face. I then quietly repeated
the remarks I had overheard pass between him
and Ridley. The sensation that followed my
words was profound—a hush fell all over the
room. Then the coroner turned to me again.
“When did you first hear the news of the
deceased’s death ? ” he asked.
“At half-past twelve, when Dr. Chetwynd
came in and told us.”
“You say ‘us’?”
“Yes, for Mr. Kort was with me at the time.”
“ How long had he been with you ? ”
“He came into my room at ten minutes to
twelve.”
“How is it that you remember the time so
accurately ? ”
“I remember looking at the clock and also
at my own watch.”
“And Mr. Kort had not left the room until
Dr. Chetwynd came in?”


EAST OF NORTH 197
“ No.”
“When was the deceased last seen alive?”
“I saw Ridley about eleven o'clock.”
The coroner noted my answers carefully, and
then, rising in his seat, said—
“Gentlemen, I adjourn this inquest until ten
o'clock to-morrow morning.”
The next instant Kort rose from his seat.
“May I ask you one question, sir?”
" Certainly,” replied the coroner.
“The police, I believe, took charge of Mr.
Ridley’s camera—may I ask whether the photo-
graphs have been developed, and, if so, may I
see them ? ”
“The plate has been developed, and I believe
a print has been taken from it,” replied the
coroner; “ there is no objection to your seeing
it at the police-station.”
Why Kort made this request I could not
imagine. I only knew that, as a result of my
evidence, the inquest had been adjourned for
the police to institute further inquiries. I saw
Kort go up to the inspector, speak a few words
to him, and they went out together.
Chetwynd and I now returned to the


I98 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
Club, which we reached about half-past
eleven.
Scarcely a quarter of an hour had passed
before Kort, accompanied by the inspector,‘
entered. He came up to me in the friendliest
manner, and, without the slightest reference to
my startling evidence against him, said—~
“Dr. Cato, will you and Mr. Chetwynd
kindly accompany the inspector and myself?
I shall value your advice on a certain important
point.”
Without a word we all went into the garden,
and made our way to the spot where we
had found Ridley’s body. Here the inspector
produced a print of the photograph Ridley
had last taken, and he and Kort examined it
minutely. Then Kort began to move about as
if to get certain trees in a line.
“This,” he said, “is the exact spot from
where that photograph was taken. Do you
agree with me?” he added, turning to me.
I examined the print closely, and then
assented.
“What is the exact time now?” was his
next question.


zoo THE SANCTUARY CLUB
“Quite,” I answered ; “it makes a feature in
the picture.”
“Well, when Ridley took that photograph
the sun was reflected from that window just as
you see it now. It is therefore self-evident that
the photograph could not have been taken
before the sun shone on that window. It
occurred to me just now that by referring to the
print we could approximately deduce the time
that Ridley shot himself, as it must, since death
was instantaneous from the nature of the wound,
have been at some period after the exposure of
the plate. You can see for yourself that this
photograph was taken after midday, for the
shadows on the print fall slightly to the East
of Nort/z, showing plainly that it was taken
after the sun was at its meridian or midday.
The body was found at 12.20: Ridley must,
therefore, have shot himself between 12.10 and
12.20. Is that not clear, inspector?”
“Perfectly clear,” replied the man; “it is
an extremely clever and convincing piece of
detection.”
I gazed at Kort for a moment in utter and
absolute amazement, for I saw in an instant


202 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
done. The result has exceeded my most
sanguine expectations. Pray do not think any
more about it.”
The coroner’s verdict next day was what
might have been expected, “Suicide during
temporary insanity.”
“Well,” I said to Chetwynd later on that
same day, “ my lips are silenced for the present,
and poor Ridley’s have been silenced for ever.”
“And yet you still suspect? ” said Chetwynd,
looking keenly into my face.
“I still suspect,” I replied with emphasis.
Little did I guess as I said the words what
extraordinary events were soon to occur-
events which would make the Sanctuary Club
itself a by-word. For when a man is desperate,
and has the ingenuity of a devil—-to what will
he not stoop!
_... A


CHAPTER V
“A HANDFUL or ASHES ”
KORT having been honourably acquitted of
any share in the murder of poor Charles Ridley,
the course of the events at the Club resumed
its normal routine. Kort himself was full of
energy and devotion to the profession which he
had adopted. In spite of my strong prejudice
against him I could not but admit that he was
more or less both Chetwynd’s and my own
right hand. Being a younger man he had been
educated in a newer school of medical thought,
and was more daring in his experiments for the
cure of patients than either of us. Nevertheless,
the late events had been the reverse of beneficial
to the welfare of the Club. More than one
member sent in his resignation—new members
- 203
_.__-.-
~


204 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
appeared at long intervals upon the scene, and
there were occasions when I felt both grave
and depressed with regard to our future.
“When once there is the slightest element
of distrust started about a Club like ours its
death-note is sounded,” remarked Chetwynd to
me one morning. “ It is, however, a fine pro-
perty, and if we cared to sell we could easily
get a purchaser. By the way, has Kort said
anything to you yet with regard to our new
member?”
“Our new member?” I said. “It is good
news in these gloomy times to hear of a new
member. What of him ? ”
Chetwynd went to his table, pulled open a
drawer, and handed me a letter.-
“That came this morning,” he said; “it
happened to be addressed to me, so I opened
1t.”
I took the letter from its envelope and read
the following words—
“ Tower House, In:/zampton, Surrey.
“ DEAR SIR,—I am anxious to avail myself
of the advantages offered by your Club, and


“A HANDFUL OF ASHES” 205
shall be glad if you will kindly send me parti-
culars with prospectus. I make my application
to you at the instance of Mr. Kort.
“Yours faithfully,
“ HAROLD BEAUCHAMP.”
“Why didn’t Kort mention the matter to
me?” I asked.
“I cannot say. He spoke to me about it
yesterday; he is anxious that Beauchamp
should be admitted as soon as possible. The
poor fellow seems to be very ill—a bad form
of ataxic paraplegia. Ah! there is Kort just
passing the window.” Chetwynd hurried to the
open window. “ Come in, Kort, won’t you-?”
he said, “and satisfy Cato with regard to the
advisability of receiving Beauchamp as a
member.”
Kort dropped the cigarette which he was
smoking, and entered through the open French
window.
“ Beauchamp would make a desirable mem-
ber,” he said at once, “and in admitting him
we secure another member as well, no less a
person than his uncle, the well-known Mr.


. . '>.I.-. --T-.. -
206 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
Sutherland. You remember, do you not, what
a pile he made on the Stock Exchange not two
years back? ”
Chetwynd crossed towards the door.
“I am going out,” he said. “I will leave
you two to discuss the matter. Write by
to-day's post, Cato, and send the necessary
prospectus to Beauchamp.” He closed the
door behind him.
Kort went across to the mantelpiece, lit a
fresh cigarette, and offered me one, which I
declined. ‘
“Has it not struck you lately, Cato, that
things have gone somewhat badly?” was his
next remark.
“ Can you be surprised?” I answered; “the
tragedies that have occurred here are not
likely to improve the status of the place. You,
however, seem to be moderately complaisant
over the matter.”
“ I am and I am not,” was his answer. His
voice dropped, he stood silent, then he said,
rousing himself-
“I have noticed, Cato, in your manner for
some time the patent fact that you dislike me


208 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
attendance, and there is nothing at all mysterious
about him,” was Kort’s answer.
“Very well, I will write to him to-day.”
I wrote to Beauchamp, enclosed the prospectus
of the Club, and said we should be glad to
admit him as a member.
He arrived in the course of a few days, and
being unable to walk was wheeled into the Club
in a chair. He was a young-looking man, but
must have been over thirty years of age. His
face was thin and very pale, his hair receded
from his forehead, and was already slightly grey
round the temples. Death was plainly written
on his face. He was accompanied by a tall,
stout, elderly man, who was introduced to us
both as Beauchamp’s uncle, the well-known Mr.
Sutherland, of Stock Exchange fame. Suther-
land had a somewhat hard cast of face, light,
wide-open grey eyes, and a quick, keen, alert
manner. The invalid, on the contrary, was very
dreamy, and appeared not to take the slightest
interest in his new surroundings. His chair
was presently lifted up by his attendants, and he
was conveyed to the rooms reserved for him.
On that very same day, and before we


“A HANDFUL OF ASHES” 209
doctors had assembled for our consultation over
Beauchamp, I was in my private sitting-room,
when I heard the handle of the door softly turn
and a light footfall sound on the floor. I
turned my head in some surprise, for patients
were not in the habit of entering my room
without first knocking. Then I started to my
feet.
“ Mrs. Kort!” I exclaimed, “what can I do
for you?”
She was slightly out of breath, and her blue
eyes looked brighter than usual. There was a
vivid spot of colour on each cheek, and I noticed
that she had grown painfully thin.
“I am glad you are better,” I continued;
“welcome down amongst us once more. Why,
you are almost a stranger; it is quite six weeks
since I have had the pleasure of seeing you
about the house.”
“If you keep such an accurate memory
with regard to my movements,” she answered,
slowly, “ why are you not more careful of my
health?”
“I careful of your health?” I exclaimed.
“But, my dear madam, I have not the charge
0


i
1


“A HANDFUL OF ASHES” 211
“Many and strange things,” was my reply.
“ You wanted me to visit you, and I never
came. You spoke of danger to yourself; pray
go on, I am much interested.”
“But I cannot recall any of those words.
Where am I? What is wrong?” She looked
wildly round her.
“Sit down,” I said. I forced her into a seat,
took her hand, and felt her pulse. The pulse
was fluttering and uneven; I noticed also that
the pulses in her temples were throbbing
perceptibly.
“It is only what always happens,” she said,
faintly, “when I—when I ” She stopped
and drew herself up with a look of affright.
“What can be wrong?” she exclaimed.
“What have I come ‘to see you about?”
“ In order to consult me about your health,”
I said, soothingly.
“Yes, yes,” she said—she was evidently
making a frantic effort to retain her fast-fleeting
memory.
“It is going, going,” she said, feebly ; “ this
is always the case when I have oh, I cannot
remember anything more.”


212 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
“ Never mind,” I said, “ you will be all right
in your own rooms. I will promise faithfully to
visit you there within an hour ; you had better
go back at once.”
“ To my own rooms—where are they?”
“ In the Davos suite of rooms in the Sanctu-
ary Club. Go, my dear madam, you surely
must remember.”
“The Davos suite of rooms in the Sanctuary
Club?” she said. She looked round her with
a vacant expression. “Where is the Sanctuary
Club? Where are the Davos rooms? Are
we not in Vienna? ”
“ No, no ; we are in England, and you are in
the Sanctuary Club.”
“We are not in England, we are in Vienna.
I tell you I won't stay here, I won’t. I hate
this dreadful, dreadful place; it was here-—it
was here ” She grasped me by the arm,
terror filling her eyes. There was nothing for
it but for me to take her back to her own rooms.
I drew her hand through my arm, led her
gently up-stairs, down the corridor which led to
the Davos suite, and then, opening the door of
the outer apartment, which was also kept at a


“A HANDFUL OF ASHES” 213
high altitude, took her through to her rooms.
The moment she entered the vestibule she
became quieter, her nervousness vanished, the
perplexity left her face, memory was evidently
returning; she withdrew her hand from my
arm.
“You are better ? ” I said.
“I am well,” she replied, “ or at least almost
well. Dr. Cato, I have something most im-
portant to say to you. I want to consult you.
Let us say, for the sake of expediency, that it
is on the subject of my health. In one sense,
too, that is true, but there is something you
must know, something you must know at once.
Will you stay and hear it now, or will you come
later on?”
I thought of the consultation which was
pending with regard to Beauchamp, told her
that I could not stay now, but would be back
within an hour.
“Very well,” she answered, sadly; “I am
sorry you have to go, but I will faithfully expect
you at the end of that time.”
“You may assuredly do so,” was my answer.
I left the room.


216 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
The woman withdrew, evidently with great
unwillingness. She came back in a moment.
“ My mistress is very sorry ” she began.
“No, I am not sorry,” was the queer and

almost reckless echo within the room. “I
wish to see Dr. Cato—show him in, Susan,
immediately.”
The maid’s dull, freckled complexion assumed
a tinge of pink. She slowly withdrew from
her position in front of the door and allowed
me to enter.
“You can go, Susan,” said her mistress.
I looked at Mrs. Kort in some astonishment.
As a rule she walked with a slight stoop, as
though her feebleness was so great that she
could scarcely support the weight of her slim
and willowy figure. She resembled at these
times a lily with a broken stem. Now she was
absolutely upright, her head well thrown back,
her eyes intensely bright. She looked not only
beautiful, but also in perfect health. Susan
gave her an amazed glance. She then slowly,
with manifest unwillingness, left the room.
When she got as far as the door she turned
and faced Mrs. Kort.


“A HANDFUL OF ASHES” 217
“You will suffer for this, madam,” she said.
Mrs. Kort did not even glance in her
direction.
“Go,” she repeated. The woman went,
shutting the door behind her.
“You are afraid of that woman ? ” I said.
“I am,” she answered. “I am afraid of
every one in this house with the exception of
yourself and Dr. Chetwynd.”
“Believe me, Mrs. Kort,” I said, “that if
necessary we will protect you. You say you
wish to consult me medically. I can scarcely
take up your case without letting your husband
know, but a patient is undoubtedly at liberty to
choose her own physician.”
“I told Horace,” she answered, “that I
particularly wished you to treat me, and he
replied that he was quite willing that you should
do so.”
“Sit down, then, and tell me your symptoms
at once.”
She seated herself on the edge of a chair,
clasping and unclasping her thin hands.
“Mine are not ordinary symptoms, and mine
is not an ordinary story,” she began. “To


“A HANDFUL OF ASHES” 221
“Assuredly no,” I answered.
“ Whatever you hear? ” she continued.
“Whatever I hear,” I said. I left the room,
Kort following me immediately.
That evening, therefore, Kort, Chetwynd,
and I saw her together in her bedroom. But
I was circumvented after all. She was sitting
up in bed looking listless and uninterested in
everything. When we came in she scarcely
noticed us, replied vaguely to all my questions,
and watched her husband’s face as though she
would read the answers he wished her to give
in his countenance. In the end we came away,
Chetwynd fully convinced that the wretched
girl was a confirmed lunatic, and full of pity for
Kort, whom he considered a most indulgent
and self-sacrificing husband.
“ My hope is,” said Kort, after our consulta-
tion had come to an end, “ that a long residence
in the Davos suite, joined to absolute quiet and
freedom from excitement, may gradually combat
the worst symptoms from which my poor wife
suffers. But, Cato,” he added, “you must be
cruel to be kind, and should she break out of
her restraint and come to visit you, you must


224 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
As I entered he looked at me with tired
eyes.
“ How are you to-day? ” I asked.
He forced himself to give a cheerful smile.
“I am afraid I am no better,” he answered.
“I do not seem to benefit from the treatment.
Is there any chance for me, Dr. Cato ? ”
“I hope so,” I answered, somewhat vaguely.
Then I continued: “You must remember the
old proverb, ‘ While there is life there is hope.’”
He shrugged his shoulders as if he disliked
my stereotyped answer.
“That medicine, for instance, does me no
good,” he said again; “I don’t seem actually
to lose much ground, but then, on the other
hand, I don’t gain any.” He sighed heavily
and lay back in the deep chair in which he was
seated. I went and stood by the fire. Now
and then I glanced at him. He had all the
marked symptoms of his distressing complaint
—it was making rapid progress, although there
was no reason to apprehend immediate danger.
As I watched him the sick man once again
raised his soft, brown eyes to my face.
“I wish to ask you a frank question,” he






" ' What did they mean by that expression? ' "
1 9'
The Sanctuary Club] [I up 2'3


“A HANDFUL OF ASHES” 225
said. “I am quite aware that I am not your
patient, but I believe you will tell me the truth.
How long have I to live? ”
“ That I cannot possibly say,” was my answer.
“I will be as frank as you desire. Tiresome
and worrying as you find your life, your malady
is not in itself fatal. You may have many years
yet before you. I have even known cases like
yours go on to old age.”
“ That would be a very melancholy state of
things,” he said, slowly. He paused again.
“Now I will tell you,” he continued, “ why
I asked that question. Two mornings ago I
happened to overhear a conversation between
Mr. Kort and my uncle. I did not catch every-
thing they said, but I knew that they were
discussing me and my symptoms, and I caught
the words—‘ laryngeal spasm.’ What did they
mean by that expression? What is laryngeal
spasm ? ”
“Nothing to alarm you,” I said. “Do not
worry yourself about things of that sort. Try
and get some hobby to amuse yourself with.”
I hurried off to find Chetwynd. These things
were getting on my nerves—I scarcely knew
P


“A HANDFUL OF ASHES” 227
time I had a great deal of work which oc-
cupied me. Several members were at last
coming to the Club, and I had every hope
that we were on the eve of another period of
prosperity.
Kort was absent for a few days after poor
Beauchamp’s death, and it occurred to me that
now would be the time to visit Mrs. Kort and
get her to tell me what that secret was which
lay heavy on her heart.
I cannot understand now why I did not avail
myself of this opportunity, but excess of work
certainly called off my attention into other chan-
nels, and in spite of myself I now and then
inclined to Chetwynd’s belief that the poor girl
was really insane.
Beauchamp died in November, and it was,
I remember well, on the 13th of the following
December, about eleven o’clock in the morning,
that the next scene in this queer drama took
place. Chetwynd and I were together in my
room when a servant entered with a card, saying
that a gentleman was waiting to see me at once.
I took up the card and read the following
name-


228 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
“ MR. WALTER O’BR11=:u,
“ Home and Colonial Assurance Company,
“ Royal Exchange Buildings, E.C.”
" Show Mr. O'Brien in,” I said to the servant.
Then I turned to Chetwynd. “ We may as well
see him,” I said, “ but I conclude he is merely
one of the usual touting insurance agents.”
The next instant a middle-aged man, well
dressed, entered the room. He stood for a
moment looking from one of us to the other.
“I am Dr. Cato,” I said. “You expressed
a wish to see me ; will you take a chair?”
He bowed and dropped into the nearest seat.
“ I have called, Dr. Cato,” he began, “ as you
see by my card, on behalf of the Home and
Colonial Assurance Company, of which I happen
to be the manager. I am anxious to have a
conversation with you on a matter of the greatest
importance, and I must ask you to oblige me
with a private interview.”
“I have no secrets from my partner, Dr.
Chetwynd,” I replied; “you can speak quite
freely in his presence.”
Mr. O'Brien looked uneasy, but presently,
with a slight bow to Chetwynd, he began-—


“A HANDFUL OF ASHES” 229
“ My inquiries are in connection with the late
Mr. Harold Beauchamp, -who died here last
month, and upon whose life our company have
issued a policy of fifty thousand pounds. An
application has been made by Mr. Beauchamp’s
uncle, Mr. Sutherland, of Ray Park, Surrey,
through his solicitors, for the money. Mr. Beau-
champ left, we understand, a will in which
Mr. Sutherland is his sole heir. Now, certain
rumours with relation to Mr. Sutherland’s past,
with which, gentlemen, I need hardly trouble
you, have made us delay in paying the insurance,
and we are bound to make every investigation.
I understand that Mr. Beauchamp died in this
house. Are you two doctors certain that he
died of natural causes?”
“Mr. Harold Beauchamp died of laryngeal
spasm following ataxic paraplegia,” I answered,
quickly. “ But as our other partner, Mr. Kort,
was attending him, I will ask him to come here
at once.”
I rose and rang the bell, and told the servant
to ask Mr. Kort to come to see me without
delay. In a very few moments he entered the
room. I introduced him to Mr. O’Brien, and


234 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
Beauchamp came, it looks uncommonly low
now.”
“Good heavens!” I cried, “do you mean
that you suspect that the poor fellow may have
been given too big a dose of it by Sutherland?”
“It is possible that Sutherland got hold of
the bottle, for I think Kort trusted him
absolutely. From O’Brien’s remark there is
something odd with regard to Sutherland’s
past life, and he alone, so far as we can tell,
is benefited by the death of his nephew. One
thing at least is certain—if such a dose were
given to Beauchamp it would certainly kill
him.”
“Since you do not know the amount that
was originally in the bottle, I do not see what
use there is in saying anything about it,” I
replied, gloomily.
Chetwynd paced up and "down the room
quickly.
“You can prove nothing,” I continued;
“the body has been cremated, and, therefore,
all trace of poisoning gone.”
“Has it?” he muttered. His steps quick-
ened. Suddenly he stopped and turned to me.


236 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
'2
along, “ that recent experiments have abund-
antly proved that a metal can be isolated from
ashes when not volatilized by cremation, and
certainly uranium would not be. Silver, copper,
and many other metals would act in the same
way, but the great point in this case will be the
fact that uranium is such a rare metal that no
counsel for the defence could possibly uphold a
plea of its accidentally having found access to
the ashes.”
“ I see,” I replied, with enthusiasm; “yes, if
any very large quantity is found in the ashes
our case will be proved.”
“ Our case? ” he said, glancing at me.
“ Yes,” I replied, “for my private impression
is that Kort has a hand in this matter. I cannot
help suspecting the man. I believe there is an
evil influence over our house, and the sooner
the man who exercises this terrible power is
exposed the better.”
“ But Kort does not benefit in the least,” said
Chetwynd, in a gloomy tone.
“ Nevertheless, the two men were in league,”
was my answer.
We arrived at the office of the Insurance


240 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
“ Before we begin,” he said, “ in an analysis of
such great importance we should clearly decide
on our line of action. The substance we have
to deal with is limited in amount, so we cannot
afford to make mistakes. My idea is this.
Whatever salt of uranium was administered, we
shall now from the ashes doubtless find it in the
form of oxide U3 O3. I propose to filter this
out as a soluble nitrate, reduce it down to the
dioxide, and then assume the oxygen required
which would bring it up to the trioxide with
permanganate of potassium.”
“ Exactly,” replied Chetwynd, “that is the
process I should myself suggest.”
“ Very well. Shall we each analyzea portion
and then compare results? But I must first
find out if the ashes have arrived. They were
to be brought up by a man from Woking : the
messenger ought to be here now.”
Russell had just pressed the bell to inquire
about the ashes, when there was a knock at
the door, and a man entered carrying a black
bag.
“Are you the messenger from Woking?”
asked Russell.


“A HANDFUL OF ASHES” 241
“Yes, sir,” answered the man.
“ Have you got the ashes?”
“Yes, sir.” The man opened the bag and
produced a metal cinerary urn. On the out-
side was engraved the name, “Harold Walter
Beauchamp.”
“This is the certificate, sir, from the
manager,” he said, handinga paper as he spoke
to Russell.
“ Very well ; that will do.”
The man retired, and Chetwynd and Russell
began their investigations, while I watched
them both with breathless interest.
Chetwynd was the first to remove the lid
of the urn. He took a small quantity of the
ashes on a spatula and made a solution of the
nitrate.
“ Now for the ferrocyanide of potassium,” he
said to me; “we should get in any case a
brown precipitate.” He added the reagent to
the test-tube, and instantly a dense precipitate
fell.
He uttered a cry.
“Absolutely loaded with it,” he said, in a
whisper.
Q


242 THE SANCTUARY CLUB


I continued to watch him as with deft hands
he drew the mystery that surrounded Beau-
champ’s death from the incinerated remains of
his own body. It was a strange and wonderful
piece of detection!
Meanwhile Russell in a distant part of the
laboratory was making another careful analysis.
At the end of an hour both men had completed
their work. Russell rapidly ran over his calcu-
lations and in silence handed the paper across
to Chetwynd, who compared it with his own
figures.
“Six hundred and eighty-three grains!”
cried Chetwynd; “a lethal dose with a ven-
geance.”
As he spoke he handed the paper to me. I
stared at it without speaking. Though I had
been practically convinced that foul play had
been used, now that the ugly and terrible
demonstration of it stared me in the face, with-
out the possibility of error, I seemed scarcely
able to realize it.
“ We must take these papers immediately t0
O’Brien,” said Chetwynd. “He is the person
to take the next step in this terrible affair.”


“A HANDFUL OF ASHES” 243
Thanking Russell for his assistance, we both
left the room. A few moments later we were
in the office of the Insurance Company. We
told O'Brien what had taken place. He listened
with intense eagerness. We then showed him
the figures. His amazement was almost beyond
words.
“A warrant must be taken out immediately
for the arrest of Sutherland,” he said; “that
is my affair. As to Kort, whether he is guilty
or not, he must be subpoenaed to appear at
the trial. I do not think we can do more at
present.”
The Insurance manager was in a state of
excitement impossible to describe.
“Will you wait in town for me, gentlemen?”
he said ; “it may be two or three hours before
I can get the necessary formalities completed,
but this very day that scoundrel shall be locked
H
up.
We promised to return again to the office
in a short time, and he left us.
To arrange the formalities and obtain the
required assistance of the law was after all but
the work of a few hours, and early that same


244 THE SANCTUARY CLUB


afternoon we, a silent party, travelled down to
Sutherland’s place, Ray Park, in Surrey. I
scarcely dared contemplate the wretched man's
hideous fate should nothing transpire to clear
him of the awful charge on which he was to be
arrested. Hiring a fly at Inchampton we drove
to Ray Park, some two miles from the station.
It was a small but pretty red brick house, and
scarcely fulfilled the impression its somewhat
pretentious title gave it.
O’Brien rang and knocked loudly. Almost
instantly the door was opened, and to our utter
amazement and consternation the tall figure of
Kort stood before us.
“In the name of all that is wonderful, what
has brought you here?” he cried, looking from
one of us to the other, and as far as we could
tell not in the least suspecting the hideous
truth.
“We want to see Sutherland,” I answered.
I had scarcely said the words before the officer
of the law who accompanied us stepped forward-
“I must see Mr. Sutherland without a
moment’s delay,” he said. “I hold here a
warrant for his arrest on suspicion of causing


“A HANDFUL OF ASHES” 245
the death of the late Harold Beauchamp by
the administration of poison.”
“ What, has the news got out already ? ” said
Kort, his face turning from red to white and
from white to red again. The police officer
forced his way into the house. Kort stood for
a moment as if he would keep him out, then
stepped back to let him pass.
“You can all come in," he said. “I did not
know the terrible news had got abroad. I am
stunned by this. The wretched Sutherland
sent for me this morning. You aretoo late,
officer. Come, I have something to show you.”
As he spoke Kort walked down the hall, and
threw open the door.
“ He is beyond your power—look ! ”
We all found ourselves in one of the reception-
rooms. Seated in a chair, with his head bowed
upon the table and one arm hanging loosely,
sat Sutherland. I uttered a cry as I raised
him. The man was dead.
“Yes, he is dead,” said Kort. “ He sent for
me early this morning in order to confess his
crime, and knowing how I might possibly be
implicated, wrote a long confession saying that


“A HANDFUL OF ASHES” 247
owing to the circumstances of the case, such
might possibly fall. I cannot bear the load of
guilt any longer. My mind is going. God
help me.
“ EDGAR WALTER SUTHERLAND.”
A silence followed the words of the police
officer. He looked at O'Brien.
“Well, sir,” he said, “we cannot arrest a
dead man.”
“And as your company will not have to pay
the Insurance money in any case now, I presume
the law will have nothing further to do in the
matter,” said Chetwynd.


CHAPTER VI
THE SECRET or THE PRISON HOUSE
As Chetwynd and I were leaving Ray Park
on the night which followed poor Sutherland’s
death, Kort accompanied us.
“I will come with you if you have no
objection,” he said. “ As far as I can tell there
is nothing more for me to do here, but if
necessary I can return to-morrow.”
Neither Chetwynd nor I found ourselves able
to utter a word. Kort seemed to take our
silence for consent, and we three went back to
the Club. We did not reach our destination
until between nine and ten o'clock. Dinner
was over, and many of the members were
scattered in different quarters of the large
central hall. Cards and games of all sorts
248


SECRET OF ITHE PRISON HOUSE 249
were the order of the hour ; everything looked
peaceful and quite as usual Not one of our
guests suspected through what a time of
tragedy and strain we three medical men had
just passed.
Chetwynd and I said a few words to our
different guests, and presently found ourselves
in the corridor which led to our consulting-
rooms. These happened to be close together.
“I am coming with you, Cato,” said Chet-
wynd, “there is much to talk over.”
There was a ring in his voice which I
recognized. My friend was roused at last,
roused with a vengeance. The moment we
entered my consulting-room he turned the key
in the lock, and then came and stood near me.
“ Pray sit down,” I said.
“I cannot sit,” was his answer. “You know
what I think of this.”
“ How can I guess your thoughts ? ”
“Good God! Cato, you can, and you do.
This is no time for subterfuge. We have both
the same thought, we both know that the man
Kort is guilty.”
“Guilty of many things, doubtless,” I an-


250 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
swered; “but scarcely of the crime which we
thought he had participated in early in the
day.”
“I do not believe in Sutherland’s confes-
sion,”,was Chetwynd’s answer. “I have seen
Sutherland’s writing several times, and my
impression is that what we read to-day is
nothing more or less than a clever forgery.
Kort was desperate and would stick at no-
thing. Cato, he must resign his partnership
immediately. If he refuses we must close the
Club.”
“Ah,” I said, “you are coming to my con-
clusion; it is a relief to hear you. You agree
with me fully? ”
“ I agree with you. This is the third shady
affair in which Kort has been implicated during
the last few months. For the reputation of the
.Club, to say nothing of your reputation and
mine, we must put things straight Without the
possibility of further mistake, and our only way,
so far as I can see, is through Mrs. Kort-
There is not the slightest doubt that she is
cognizant of her husband’s character. The few
words she has dropped to you are sufficient to


SECRET OF THE PRISON HOUSE 251
prove this. There was a time when I believed
her insane, led to my belief by Kort’s specious
words. I no longer hold that theory. There
is something wrong with the woman—what,
God only knows-——but, at least in the Davos
rooms, she is in full possession of her faculties.
We have got to discover what awful hold her
husband has over her. Our next interview
must be under official authority. I propose
that we have it early to-morrow morning. It is
too late to—night to do anything, but I shall
telephone as soon as ever I can to-morrow to
Inspector _Clarkson, put the whole thing before
him, and beg him to take up the matter,
privately and at our expense. Each individual
occurrence may be insufficient for our purpose,
but linked together they make a formidable
chain to break.”
“I echo your words, Chetwynd,” I replied;
“matters cannot go on as they are doing. If for
no other reason, for the sake of that wretched
woman up-stairs, we must take the bull by the
horns.”
We talked a little longer and afterwards retired
to our rooms, but I for one could not sleep.


252 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
The catastrophe which hung over our heads
was all too imminent. It needed but a breath
of the truth to get abroad for each member of
the Club to resign. In any case now, I greatly
feared that we were scarcely likely to save
ourselves.
At an early hour on the following morning
Chetwynd telephoned to Clarkson.
The reply came back that the inspector would
be with us in an hour.
I had many patients to see that morning,
and, after attending them, passed through the
laboratory on my way to Chetwynd’s room
As I entered the large outer laboratory I found
Kort engaged in conversation with an elderly,
jewish-looking man, evidently a foreigner.
The moment Kort saw me he came forward in
his usual deliberate and perfectly calm manner,
and introduced the stranger as Mr. MyerSteiI1-
“ My lawyer,” he added.
I rather wondered why Kort was seeing his
lawyer that morning, but had not time to give
serious thought to the matter. The sound of
wheels on the gravel sweep arrested my
attention, and I recognized Clarkson as he


254 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
--
will be valid. Now, from what you have told
me I shall insist on such an interview. We will,
therefore, hold it at once. If the result should
occasion it I can soon get the necessary warrant
to arrest Mr. Kort. Is he in the house at
present?”
“He is,” I answered. “I saw him just
before you arrived. Shall I send for him to
come here?”
“I should be glad to see him,” replied the
inspector.
I pressed the bell.
“ Tell Mr. Kort that his presence is required
here at once,” I said to the servant, who bowed
and withdrew.
“He will do what he can to prevent our
interviewing his wife,” I said. “That goes
without saying. He will make his usual excuse
that she cannot stand excitement.”
The inspector smiled dryly but said nothing.
We waited in silence. It was clear to all of us
that we were at last on the verge of the great
crisis to which events had been gradually
leading up. There was no possible loophole
for the truth to escape. I felt sure that we


SECRET oF THE PRISON HOUSE 25;
could bring the authority of the law into
requisition and demand a full explanation from
Mrs. Kort. Once this was given the rest
would be easy. Only one misgiving had I
now, and that was caused by Kort’s own
extraordinary self-possession, and also by his
presence in the Club.
“ He must have returned to guard his wife,”
I said to myself; “he has come back to keep
her in check. It is impossible that he should
not be aware of his own danger. But what
hold can he possibly have over her which would
prevent her telling us the truth when we inter-
view her alone ?”
Suddenly the handle of the door clicked, and
I involuntarily started in my seat. . Kort quietly
entered the room. He was holding himself
erect as usual, his face looked quite calm, and
his dark, somewhat melancholy eyes glanced
from one of us to the other with an expression
of well-assumed surprise. When his gaze fell
upon Inspector Clarkson I saw him lift his
heavy eyebrows just for a moment, and the
dawn of a smile flitted round his lips.
Meanwhile the officer’s keen grey eyes fixed


256 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
themselves on his face with an impatient and
penetrating look.
“ You wished to see me?” asked Kort, in a
low voice. He glanced at each of us in turn.
“We do,” I answered ; “pray sit down.”
He sank into an easy-chair and folded his
arms.
“You are of course aware, Mr. Kort,” I began,
and as I spoke I rose to my feet, “that the
position in which we in this Club are placed,
owing to the continued occurrence of events of
a suspicious nature, admits of only one line of
action. Waiving for the moment the fact that
nothing has been actually proved against you,
Dr. Chetwynd and I have decided to request
you to- resign your partnership with us, on
account of the strong circumstantial evidence
against you. Further, since it is directly due
to your instrumentality that the reputation of
the Club and our own reputations are seriously
involved, we desire to arrive at some explan-
ation of this mysterious business. We have,
therefore, decided to invoke the aid of the
authorities.”
“I fully comprehend you,” answered Kort.


258 THE SANCTUARY CLUB


resign my partnership and to leave England.
But as to this interview which you propose
holding with my wife, before you do so I must
give you a word of warning.” His eyes bright-
ened with a deadly glitter as he looked full at
me. “ My wife’s condition is a very precarious
one. She is, as I have told you before, insane”
—here he glanced at Chetwynd. “This whole-
sale invasion of her private rooms will be
fraught with the utmost danger to her, and I
refuse to let you see her.” And he abruptly
left the room.
The inspector shrugged his shoulders. “ No-
thing can be done,” he said, “unless Mr.
Kort will leave his wife free for us to see
her.”
“There is little hope of that, I fear,” I said.
“But we will watch for every chance, and let you
know at once should any opportunity occur. Do
not rest over this matter,” I continued to the
inspector, “employ your keenest wits upon it,
your most able detectives, make every inquiry
in your power.”
“I will, sir, and if you want me ring me up
and I'll be here as soon as ever I can. At


260 THE SANCTUARY CLUB


you never yet were beaten by a problem. Turn
your mind on this. Break through this horrible
suspicion and anxiety.”
He made no answer. To and fro he paced
the room in silence. His hands were thrust
deep into his pockets, his head bent down.
“Has Kort said when he is leaving?” he
suddenly asked.
“Not a word.”
“Very well, I have an idea. It is this. I
will go immediately and try to find out some-
thing of his past and of his wife's past. It is
possible, through channels now at the disposal
of every one, to get information about her prior
to her marriage. I am certain that it is only
by going back and taking up the threads of his
earlier days, and then following them carefully,
that we shall get a solution of the present
mystery. Will you, Cato, stay quietly here
and watch events while I go and make inquiries?
If I am not back to-night, you will hear from
me.”
“Very well,” I answered, “anything you
think best. Up to the present the members
suspect nothing. There is no one specially
. Ka"U-Ilti-|


SECRET OF THE PRISON HOUSE 263
I made no answer and merely bowed as he
left me. He closed the door, and I sat on by
the fire. What was the mystery? Beyond
doubt Mrs. Kort held the key of the situation,
which for some inexplicable reason she refused
to render up. Would those two go out of our
lives, and the tragedy which concerned them
remain for ever unsolved?
At eleven o’clock that night a messenger
brought me a short note from Chetwynd.
“ Getting nearer. Not home to-night. Stay
in to-morrow.”
I burned the note in case it should fall into
other hands, and then went to bed.
In spite of my depression Chetwynd’s words
had cheered me. I had every faith in his
sagacity, and I knew that his note was
pregnant with meaning. The following day
passed quietly. Chetwynd did not return nor
did I get any tidings of him. Kort was busy
as usual, just as though he intended to remain
at the Sanctuary Club for ever. I heard nothing
with regard to Mrs. Kort, and a wild desire to
enter her presence and force the truth from her
was abandoned as soon as it occurred to me.


264 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
In the afternoon I met Kort in the hall. I
now observed with a certain degree of pleasure
a strange restlessness in his manner; his face,
too, was pale. He inquired at once where
Chetwynd was. I replied briefly that he had
left the Club on special business.
At a quarter-past four that afternoon, as the
usual custom was, the servant entered my
sitting-room with the post-bag to ask for the
country letters. I noticed as he spoke that he
had several letters in his hand, and, as I put
mine into the bag, he added the pile which he
held. When he did this I happened to notice
one in Kort’s handwriting. It was addressed
to his lawyer, Myerstein, at some place in
the south-west district. I gave it a passing
thought, and then forgot it. The man left the
room, and I sat on by the fire. Hours passed,
I felt more and more depressed, and less and
less inclined to move. Suddenly I started to
my feet. How the time had gone by! It was
nearly seven o’clock. I was about to leave
the room to dress for dinner when the door
was quickly opened and Chetwynd walked
in.


SECRET OF THE PRISON HOUSE 265
“My dear fellow,” I cried, grasping his
hand, “what news?”
He closed the door, locked it, and returned'
to the middle of the room. His face was
calm, but I knew him well enough to be
sure that beneath his apparent coolness a
terrible furnace of excitement was consuming
him.
“I have discovered information of the
utmost importance with regard to Mrs. Kort,”
he said, quietly.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I will tell you,” he continued. “It may
explain a good deal. Her maiden name was
Elkington. She was the only daughter of a
certain Captain Elkington, who died when
she was quite a girl, leaving her, however,
sufficient money to maintain her in comfort.
She was fond of science, and elected to take
a medical course. She went to Vienna to
study medicine in the schools there, and took
her degree. While there she became engaged
to our poor young friend, Philip Sherwin. Ah,
you start!”
“I have reason to,” I replied; “I cannot
.-. -.-.-.--


266 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
forget poor Sherwin’s dying words: ‘Ask /zim
(Kort) about Isobel when I am gone.’ ”
Chetwynd was silent for a moment.
“Pray listen,” he said then; “there is more
to follow. Miss Elkington was engaged to
Sherwin. Kort appeared upon the scene. He
was also studying medicine, and, doubtless, met
his wife at the medical schools. The next
event in the chain of circumstances was this.
Miss Elkington broke off her engagement to
Sherwin and married Kort. A few months
afterwards the husband and wife left Vienna
under extraordinary circumstances. These
circumstances are not divulged. It is certain
that Kort had done something in the highest
degree discreditable if not felonious. There
were, it appears, three people who knew his
secret-—his own wife, Philip Sherwin, and poor
Ridley. As we know, Ridley died under, to
say the least of it, suspicious circumstances.
Sherwin has also died; there is now only the
wife whose lips Kort by some fiendish means
has sealed.”
“But,” I interrupted, “if any such danger
were to be apprehended from his wife’s


SECRET OF THE PRISON HOUSE 267
speaking, and he is the black villain we have
every reason to believe him to be, why has he
not made an attempt on her life?”
“That I cannot tell you. There is no doubt
a reason why he does not dare to kill her.
From our interviews it is evident that she is
under the influence of some terrible fear. Our
only chance is to see her when her husband
and maid are out of the house, and the cause
of terror, whatever it may be, withdrawn.”
“But that will be impossible,” I replied.
“If things are as you suggest, he will take
very good care not to leave her.”
Chetwynd put his hand to his brow with a.
restless gesture.
“That is so,” he answered, slowly. “We
are indeed beset with difficulties. I wish I
could learn what special business Kort is now
transacting with that rascally lawyer Myerstein.
I have inquired about him, and he bears a
character, to say the least, shady. If we knew
that we might get a clue. Well, I have done
my best, and yet, now that I review all, we
seem to have got no further. If we could only
get the slightest idea of what this business is


268 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
between Myerstein and Kort our way might be
clear."
“ Kort told me,” I replied, “that he was
leaving here on Friday, that is, to-morrow
morning. He further said that his affairs in
connection with the Club were being wound
up by Myerstein, and that Myerstein would
communicate with us on the matter.”
“There is more behind,” said Chetwynd.
“I wish I knew; I earnestly wish I knew.”
“ Kort wrote to Myerstein by the post which
left here soon after four o’clock,” I said,
suddenly.
“He did? I would give my hand to see
that communication. How do you know- he
has written?”
“I saw the letter when the servant brought
me the post-bag.”
Chetwynd lay back in his chair and clasped
one of his hands across his eyes. The silence
lasted a long time, so long that at first I
thought my friend had fallen asleep; but a
glance at him and the taut tendons of his hand
clasped across his eyes told me that he was
thinking long and deeply.


270 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
“I dislike the thought of it,” I said.
“Hitherto, we at least have been ”
“Oh, pooh!” interrupted Chetwynd, “there
are times when a man must sacrifice his so-
called honour; The woman up-stairs demands
that of us. She is Kort’s dupe, his victim;
she must be rescued. I am not ashamed of
what I mean to do. Will you join me or
not?”
“ I will join you,” I said, slowly.
“Then stay here till I come back. Time is
short. It is a quarter to eight now. I will
return as soon as ever I can.”
He hurried out of the room, leaving me
alone. I rang the bell and told the servant
who appeared that neither Dr. Chetwynd nor
I would be able to be present at dinner.
“ Ask Mr. Kort from me to take the head of
the table,” I continued.
The man received my message, bowed, and
withdrew. I spent the time of Chetwynd's
absence pacing up and down the room. At
half-past eight he returned with a small, black
bag.
“Come now, quickly,” he said; “we must

>-._ xx .—_y-.- -Q-_-gr-an-I -. _~m'_~


SECRET OF THE PRISON HOUSE 271
have a hansom. I have got the address. It
is number thirty-eight, Gledham Gardens,
South Kensington.”
“Tell me, what is your scheme?” I asked.
“A bold and risky one. You shall soon know.”
Outside we hailed the nearest hansom.
“South Kensington Museum,” whispered
Chetwynd to the driver, “and a sovereign to
yourself if you do it in three-quarters of an
houn”
The man nodded and away we sped at a
spanking trot.
“We will get out at the Museum and walk
the rest of the way,” said Chetwynd. “I find
the letter will be delivered at half-past nine.
We shall be just in time.”
He made no further remark till we alighted
close to the Oratory. He then paid the man
and we hurried off in the direction of Gledham
Gardens.
“Are you going to bribe the postman?” I
asked.
“No, hush! we are here.’ As he spoke we
turned the corner of a large square, in the
centre of which stood the usual garden.
I


272 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
---_.,.-- ._.-». a
7'” "”_ -"F'+§'-*0-_--.— _-_.i__
“That is the house,” he said, pointing in
a certain direction. He glanced at his watch.
“Twenty minutes past nine. Stand here and
wait for me in the shade of this tree,” he
continued. He crossed the road and went
up the steps of number thirty-eight to the
hall door, where he stood for a minute or two.
Then he again crossed the road and waited
in the shade of the garden. Several people
passed, and a policeman on his beat went
slowly by. Chetwynd never stirred, and I
watched him wondering. A double knock at
a door close by caused me to start and turn
round. The postman delivering the lastpost
at the various houses was coming down the
road. Outside number thirty-eight he stopped
for a moment or two, drew some letters
his bag, glanced at them, ran up the steps,
put them in the letter-box, and came down
again. The moment he did so Chetwynd
glided softly across the road and ran up the
steps of the house.. In less than a minute he
was hurrying towards me.
“Round here, quick ! ” he said, catching my
arm, and drawing me down a turning.
------1-,..>.,-—._- .,-_->''‘-.-. ..,.
from.



!.n
" ‘ Round here, quick
The Sanctuary Club] Pug; 272





SECRET OF THE PRISON HOUSE 273
“What in the name of Heaven have you
been doing?” I said.
“I have got it,” he answered, as he raised
his hand to a crawling four-wheeler. Directly
we were inside he drew forth, to my utter
amazement, the same letter which I had seen
go into the post a few hours back.
“One moment before we read it, Cato,” he
said. He opened his little bag and took out
a strange-looking sort of black silk pouch—
the orifice oblong,_and held in that shape by a
band of copper wire.
“My post-bag,” he whispered, “my own
little patent post-bag, very simple. I passed
this through the flap of Mr. Myerstein’s letter-
box, leaving these two little black silk threads
hanging out and quite invisible. The postman
put in his letters, four altogether, this one and
three others. I then drew out my bag by the
silk threads—it of course contained the letters.
I removed the one and returned the others.
Cato, we are thieves, but upon my word it is
a lucky coup. There was just the chance,
of course, of a servant happening to be
in the hall. This I had to risk, but we
s


SECRET OF THE PRISON HOUSE 275
“Straight up; we will take the bull by the
horns,” exclaimed Chetwynd, and we both
raced up the stairs. In the corridor which
led to the Davos suite we met Kort, evidently
coming from his wife’s rooms. Chetwynd
immediately stepped up to him.
“Cato and I wish to see your wife at once,”
he said. “We will take no denial; we must
see her now without an instant’s delay.”
“You cannot,” replied Kort. He quickly
retreated and stood before the door. His face
was livid with suppressed fear.
“Stand aside, Mr. Kort,” I said, briefly;
“your game is up.”
“You are both mad,” he almost shouted,
quivering with fury. “I tell you if you enter
that room her death will be on your hands.”
Chetwynd pushed him aside and laid his
hand on the hasp of the outer door.
“All right, go!” cried Kort. He sprang
suddenly aside and shot down the corridor.
We opened the door and entered the ante-
room, but before we reached the inner door
a rush of air through the valves fell on our
ears. We dashed into Mrs. Kort’s room.


278 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
She gave a deep sigh.
“I can live,” she said, in a low voice, “the
agony is over, but I nearly died.”
“ It was touch and go,” said Chetwynd, briefly,
“ but never mind, do not say anything just yet.”
She closed her eyes. In a moment or two
she opened them.
“He tried it once before,” she said, in a
dreamy voice, “once when I would not do what
he wished. It was soon after my marriage,
when Philip Sherwin threatened to expose him.”
Again she closed her eyes, she seemed too
weak for further conversation.
“We will not disturb her for a few moments,”
said Chetwynd to me; “she has gone through
agony which only she can fathom.”
“But what about Kort?” I inquired. “ls
he likely to come back ? Is he likely to do her
a further injury? ”
“He must have seen that his game was up,
and has probably left the Club,” was Chetwynf-l’5
answer; “but if you will stay here with Mrs.
Kort I will go and inquire.” He went out of
the room. In a few moments he returned with
a strong restorative in his hand.


280 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
“I will tell you," she said. “Something
seems to assure me that the danger is over;
it will be a relief to speak.”
Neither Chetwynd nor I said a word. She
began the recital of her terrible wrongs in a
low voice.
“Five years ago I married Mr. Kort in
Vienna. I was studying medicine there at the
time. I had always a great love for science,
and for medical science in particular. I was
thought clever, I had brains, and I longed to
use them. I was particularly interested in
everything which related to psychological re-
search. The relation of mind to matter was
a problem to which I hoped to devote my life.
When I first met Mr. Kort I was engaged to a
man whom I then sincerely loved, and who most
passionately loved me. His name was Philip
Sherwin.”
Neither Chetwynd nor I spoke a word. She
looked up at us with a half-questioning glance,
and then continued—
“I was engaged to him——-would that I had
married him ! Since then he has died.”
“ He died in this house,” I said, slowly.


SECRET OF THE PRISON HOUSE 281
“Ah! you know about him,” she exclaimed.
“Of course, I heard that he died here. You
will tell me of his last hours presently.”
“We will,” said Chetwynd, “but pray pro-
ceed now with your own story, it is of paramount
importance for the time being.”
She went on quietly.
“ Mr. Kort had a wonderful manner, a strange
and overpowering fascination. He soon exer-
cised an extraordinary influence over me. He
often talked to me on the subject which interested
us both. How each pearly cell in the brain, to
the sight the merest protoplasm, is really the
agent through which the lives, thoughts, and
emotions of all humanity are manifested, and in
which the greatest sacrifices, renunciations, vices,
and virtues have their origin. One day he
asked me if I would be his wife. I told him
that I was engaged to Philip Sherwin. That
fact seemed not to affect him in the least. He
pursued his attentions, and one night in the
presence of several friends he mesmerized me.
After that my will seemed weakened, he put me
into the mesmeric trance from time to time, and
at last I was completely in his power. I gave


282 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
up the man to whom I was engaged for the
other man who had completely won what I
supposed was my heart. I thought of no one
but him. He had so transformed my nature
that Mr. Sherwin’s most passionate appeals had
not the slightest effect upon me. It did not
seem to me a sin to break his heart. I little
knew to what all this was leading up. Mr.
Kort and I were married, and a month or two
later my husband gave me a glimpse into his true
mind. I had always thought that his love of
science was one of the strongest motives of his
I now saw that there was something
else even stronger. He was intensely, cruelly
ambitious. He wanted to be a great discoverer;
he wished his name to be handed down to the
race as the man who had proved one of the
most abstruse and, to my thinking, appalling
theories that ever dawned upon the human
mind. He told me on one special awful night
that it was his belief that every thought or
motion arises, not from a spiritual source, but
merely from a physical change in certain cells
in the brain. He said it would be possible to
prove this by stimulating these cells, so that
I1H.tLll‘€.


SECRET OF THE PRISON HOUSE 283
I
character, moral sense, even conscience itself,
and all that had hitherto been accepted as
belonging to the spiritual part of our nature,
would be really at the mercy of the physiologist.
He said this could only be proved by experi-
ment; that such an experiment could not be
tried on the animal world, but only on a human
subject. I listened to him with horror at his
words, but still without following their main
drift.
“ ‘Then thank God you can never prove
your theory,’ was my remark.
“ ‘Do you say so?’ he answered, and he
fixed his eyes on my face. ‘ I can by experi-
ment on a human subject.’
“I turned from him when he said this, with
a sense of sudden and sick fear. We were
both in his laboratory. I rose and attempted
to leave the room. He called me back in that
voice which I was powerless to resist.
“ ‘You can be that subject, he said, and he
put his hands on my shoulders and looked into
my eyes.
“‘I! Never! Never! Are you mad?’
was my reply.


284 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
“‘I am not mad, I am sane. I repeat my
words. You can be my subject.’
“There was an expression in his eyes which
drove me to my knees.
“ ‘What do you mean?’ I cried. IYou
terrify me, you frighten me. You would not
hurt me, your wife? Oh, Horace! give this
ghastly thing up! Leave it in the secret rooms
of God’s treasure house. We are better off with
the old beliefs.’
“ He laughed a cruel laugh.
“ ‘Come, Isobel,’ he said, ‘ I have not mes-
merized you for a long time, I mean to do so
now.’
“ I cried aloud in my terror. He held both
my hands and stooping looked into my eyes.
I struggled against his influence. I think I
screamed, then memory and sensation faded and
I remembered nothing more. When I came to
myself all was changed. I felt sick and be-
wildered, and with great difficulty could recall
what had happened before I had sunk to sleep.
My husband was in the room with me. He
was holding both my hands and telling me to
keep calm. -After a time I found to my horror


SECRET OF THE PRISON HOUSE 285
that I was wearing a small metal cup on a part
of my head. I asked him what it meant, and he
told me.
“‘I have made the experiment on you,
Isobel,’ he said. ‘ To you is given the honour
of being the means of proving the most marvel-
lous theory in all the world. For the purpose
of my experiment I was obliged to trephine a
certain portion of your skull. I was not able
to bring you back to consciousness after the
operation, and only succeeded in doing so by
preventing the normal atmospheric pressure of
fifteen pounds to the square inch from pressing
upon your brain. The exhaust cup which you
are wearing relieves that pressure, and as long
as you wear it your life is safe.’
“‘But am I never to be well again?’ I
asked.
“ ‘ That depends,’ he answered, and he gave
a cruel smile.
“Time went on, but there was no improve-
ment in my condition. Once I tried myself
to remove the exhaust metallic cup. I im-
mediately fainted, and should have died had
my husband not rapidly replaced it. But even


SECRET OF THE PRISON HOUSE 289
willing to do, as I wanted to return to England.
He then brought me to England, and eventu-
ally I came here; but although I could live in
comparative comfort in the Davos suite, the
horror of my mind can never be described.
More and more, day after day, my eyes were
opened to the brutal character of the man to
whom I had been united. He never minded
what he said to me, and always explained his
plans and intentions, assuring me as he watched
my face that nothing was better for the success
of his experiments than the manner in which I
received them. Thus I knew all about him
and all about his victims. It was he who
incited Mr. Banpfylde to break the Prince
Rupert’s Drop, thus causing his death, while
my husband rushed into the room in the dark
and removed the jewel. Then most unex-
pectedly Mr. Charles Ridley appeared upon the
scene. He knew enough about my husband’s
secret to make things unpleasant for him. My
husband therefore devised his ruin and then. his
death. He put atropine into the bottle which
contained the soda-water. Some of the con-
tents got into the jockey’s eyes with the usual
'1‘


290 THE SANCTUARY CLUB
result, a temporary paralysis of the pupils of
the eyes. The jockey could not guide his
horse, and thus the race was lost and Mr.
Ridley ruined. But this was not enough.
The next day the unfortunate man was supposed
to have died by suicide. This was not the
case. My husband shot him and proved an alibi
in a most cunning way. On the previous day
he himself took the photograph which, as you
remember, saved him, and he put the plate
into Mr. Ridley’s camera in order that it should
appear that Mr. Ridley had taken the photo-
graph at a certain hour. It had in reality been
taken twenty-four hours earlier, and Mr. Ridley
had not taken any photograph that morning.
“ Once again, it was my miserable husband
who was in league with Mr. Sutherland to get
the insurance money on the life of Harold
Beauchamp. It was he who administered the
poison to Mr. Beauchamp, and Mr. Sutherland
and he were to divide the spoils between them.
This scheme, as you know, failed owing to D1‘-
Chetwynd’s genius. Mr. Sutherland, getting
news of the removal of the ashes from Woking,
committed suicide in terror, and my husband


SECRET OF THE PRISON HOUSE 291
afterwards forged his confession, thus exonerat-
ing himself from all blame. Yes, few men
have been so wicked, and the extraordinary
thing is that he should have confided in me
in the way he did; but he felt certain of my
silence, knowing what the consequences would
be to myself if I ever revealed the truth.
There were moments, however, when I was so
mad with misery and anguish, that I determined
to risk all in order to let you know; but he
invariably prevented me, and at last, seeing
that I would creep away from my prison when-
ever I got the chance, he removed the cup.
After this, my position became too awful. I
was confined a close prisoner in my own rooms.
My maid, Susan, was, of course, in his pay,
and was in some ways aworse tyrant than even
my husband himself. You have wondered, I
dare say, why I did not send for you, why I
did not speak. I dared not; I was in the
utmost danger. My maid would have been
listening by means of a tube which my husband
had himself inserted into thewall between this
room and my bedroom. She was ready the
moment she heard me utter a word of our


292 THE SANCTUARY CLUB


ghastly secret to communicate with him. He
was then to release the valve and I should fall
dead in this room. Now you know all. When
you two forced your way in here an hour ago
my husband saw that all was up, but at any
cost he would seal my lips. He released the
valve. But for Dr. Cato’s quickness I should
have been a dead woman.”
She paused. For a time Chetwynd and I
were silent, rooted to the spot by this horrible
tale. Chetwynd was the first to speak; he
turned to me.
“Stay with her, Cato, I must not waste a
moment in loosing the hounds on Kort; he
cannot have got far yet. He did not count on
my inspiration when I sent you to the lever
just in time.”
“ N o, he thought the grave would cover the
most ghastly part of his secret,” was my
answer; “but all is up with him now. Don't
lose a moment, Chetwynd. That man must
suffer the full penalty of his crimes.”
Chetwynd went away. Two or three hours
afterwards he came back. I was still in Mrs.
Kort’s room. She was lying on the sofa, her


SECRET OF THE PRISON HOUSE 293
eyes closed. What her thoughts were I could
not say. He handed me a telegram which he
had just received. It was from Inspector
Clarkson: “Have arrested Horace Kort at
Southampton.”
“Thank God l ” was my exclamation.
“The law will punish him,” said my friend.
“We will leave him for the present to his God
and to the law of the land. I want to talk to
you about some one else.” As he spoke he
looked at Mrs. Kort.
“I am sending a nurse to look after you,”
he said ; “your husband has left the Club and
your wicked maid has also vanished. You
need never fear seeing either of them again.”
We went into the ante-room, as we did not
like to leave Mrs. Kort too long alone.
“Can anything be done for her?” I asked.
“I hope so,” he answered, briefly, “but do
you know what has occurred ? ”
“ I can partly guess, but I have not examined
the skull.”
“ I have,” he answered. “ A portion of the
right parietal bone has been depressed, which,
as of course you know, would in ordinary


SECRET OF THE PRISON HOUSE 295
healing, and trust to nature to unite it to the
surrounding bone. The Davos rooms are
excellently suited for our purpose, and she can
remain there during convalescence. Then in
a few weeks, if all goes well, we will gradually
let in more and more atmospheric pressure and
see how the bone stands it. If it has united
and she suffers no uncomfortable symptoms,
she can step out into the world a free woman.”
“Will you undertake it?” I cried. “It will
be the crowning triumph of your life.”
“If she gives her consent,” answered
Chetwynd.
That evening we had another interview with
Mrs. Kort. Chetwynd explained everything
to her with the utmost fulness.
“With your medical knowledge you must
understand what we mean,” he said. “I will
undertake the operation, and Cato will give
you chloroform, provided you are willing; but
I must frankly tell you that the danger is great,
you may never come out of it alive.”
“But if I do?” she asked, raising those
wonderful sapphire eyes to his.
“ If all goes well,” he replied, “and I firmly



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