light shining in his eyes. ‘Hartington, how long has your uncle had that jar?’
‘How long? I really don’t know.’
‘Think. Did he buy it lately?’
‘I don’t know – yes, I believe he did, now I come to think of it. I’m not very interested in porcelain myself, but I remember his showing me his “recent acquisitions,” and this was one of them.’
‘Less than two months ago? The Turners left Heather Cottage just two months ago.’
‘Yes, I believe it was.’
‘Your uncle attends country sales sometimes?’
‘He’s always tooling round to sales.’
‘Then there is no inherent improbability in our assuming that he bought this particular piece of porcelain at the sale of the Turners’ things. A curious coincidence – or perhaps what I call the groping of blind justice. Hartington, you must find out from your uncle at once where he bought this jar.’
Jack’s face fell.
‘I’m afraid that’s impossible. Uncle George is away on the Continent. I don’t even know where to write to him.’
‘How long will he be away?’
‘Three weeks to a month at least.’
There was a silence. Felise sat looking anxiously from one man to the other.
‘Is there nothing that we can do?’ she asked timidly.
‘Yes, there is one thing,’ said Lavington, in a tone of suppressed excitement. ‘It is unusual, perhaps, but I believe that it will succeed. Hartington, you must get hold of that jar. Bring it down here, and, if Mademoiselle permits, we will spend a night at Heather Cottage, taking the blue jar with us.’
Jack felt his skin creep uncomfortably.
‘What do you think will happen?’ he asked uneasily.
‘I have not the slightest idea – but I honestly believe that the mystery will be solved and the ghost laid. Quite possibly there may be a false bottom to the jar and something is concealed inside it. If no phenomenon occurs, we must use our own ingenuity.’
Felise clasped her hands.
‘It is a wonderful idea,’ she exclaimed.
Her eyes were alight with enthusiasm. Jack did not feel nearly so enthusiastic – in fact, he was inwardly funking it badly, but nothing would have induced him to admit the fact before Felise. The doctor acted as though his suggestion were the most natural one in the world.
‘When can you get the jar?’ asked Felise, turning to Jack.
‘Tomorrow,’ said the latter, unwillingly.
He had to go through with it now, but the memory of the frenzied cry for help that had haunted him each morning was something to be ruthlessly thrust down and not thought about more than could be helped.
He went to his uncle’s house the following evening, and took away the jar in question. He was more than ever convinced when he saw it again that it was the identical one pictured in the water colour sketch, but carefully as he looked it over he could see no sign that it contained a secret receptacle of any kind.
It was eleven o’clock when he and Lavington arrived at Heather Cottage. Felise was on the look-out for them, and opened the door softly before they had time to knock.
‘Come in,’ she whispered. ‘My father is asleep upstairs, and we must not wake him. I have made coffee for you in here.’
She led the way into the small cosy sitting room. A spirit lamp stood in the grate, and bending over it, she brewed them both some fragrant coffee.
Then Jack unfastened the Chinese jar from its many wrappings. Felise gasped as her eyes fell on it.
‘But yes, but yes,’ she cried eagerly. ‘That is it – I would know it anywhere.’
Meanwhile Lavington was making his own preparations. He removed all the ornaments from a small table and set it in the middle of the room. Round it he placed three chairs. Then, taking the blue jar from Jack, he placed it in the centre of the table.
‘Now,’ he said, ‘we are ready. Turn off the lights, and let us sit round the table in the darkness.’
The others obeyed him. Lavington’s voice spoke again out of the darkness.
‘Think of
‘How long? I really don’t know.’
‘Think. Did he buy it lately?’
‘I don’t know – yes, I believe he did, now I come to think of it. I’m not very interested in porcelain myself, but I remember his showing me his “recent acquisitions,” and this was one of them.’
‘Less than two months ago? The Turners left Heather Cottage just two months ago.’
‘Yes, I believe it was.’
‘Your uncle attends country sales sometimes?’
‘He’s always tooling round to sales.’
‘Then there is no inherent improbability in our assuming that he bought this particular piece of porcelain at the sale of the Turners’ things. A curious coincidence – or perhaps what I call the groping of blind justice. Hartington, you must find out from your uncle at once where he bought this jar.’
Jack’s face fell.
‘I’m afraid that’s impossible. Uncle George is away on the Continent. I don’t even know where to write to him.’
‘How long will he be away?’
‘Three weeks to a month at least.’
There was a silence. Felise sat looking anxiously from one man to the other.
‘Is there nothing that we can do?’ she asked timidly.
‘Yes, there is one thing,’ said Lavington, in a tone of suppressed excitement. ‘It is unusual, perhaps, but I believe that it will succeed. Hartington, you must get hold of that jar. Bring it down here, and, if Mademoiselle permits, we will spend a night at Heather Cottage, taking the blue jar with us.’
Jack felt his skin creep uncomfortably.
‘What do you think will happen?’ he asked uneasily.
‘I have not the slightest idea – but I honestly believe that the mystery will be solved and the ghost laid. Quite possibly there may be a false bottom to the jar and something is concealed inside it. If no phenomenon occurs, we must use our own ingenuity.’
Felise clasped her hands.
‘It is a wonderful idea,’ she exclaimed.
Her eyes were alight with enthusiasm. Jack did not feel nearly so enthusiastic – in fact, he was inwardly funking it badly, but nothing would have induced him to admit the fact before Felise. The doctor acted as though his suggestion were the most natural one in the world.
‘When can you get the jar?’ asked Felise, turning to Jack.
‘Tomorrow,’ said the latter, unwillingly.
He had to go through with it now, but the memory of the frenzied cry for help that had haunted him each morning was something to be ruthlessly thrust down and not thought about more than could be helped.
He went to his uncle’s house the following evening, and took away the jar in question. He was more than ever convinced when he saw it again that it was the identical one pictured in the water colour sketch, but carefully as he looked it over he could see no sign that it contained a secret receptacle of any kind.
It was eleven o’clock when he and Lavington arrived at Heather Cottage. Felise was on the look-out for them, and opened the door softly before they had time to knock.
‘Come in,’ she whispered. ‘My father is asleep upstairs, and we must not wake him. I have made coffee for you in here.’
She led the way into the small cosy sitting room. A spirit lamp stood in the grate, and bending over it, she brewed them both some fragrant coffee.
Then Jack unfastened the Chinese jar from its many wrappings. Felise gasped as her eyes fell on it.
‘But yes, but yes,’ she cried eagerly. ‘That is it – I would know it anywhere.’
Meanwhile Lavington was making his own preparations. He removed all the ornaments from a small table and set it in the middle of the room. Round it he placed three chairs. Then, taking the blue jar from Jack, he placed it in the centre of the table.
‘Now,’ he said, ‘we are ready. Turn off the lights, and let us sit round the table in the darkness.’
The others obeyed him. Lavington’s voice spoke again out of the darkness.
‘Think of
Similar Books
