‘Certainly,’ said Sir Penn, ‘and I will bet you ten pounds, Haldane, that you fail.’
‘Done, Sir Penn,’ was the answer.
A discussion as to who should be the person to accompany Mr Haldane outside the room, and to choose the sentence within the room, immediately ensued.
‘In view of my wager, ladies and gentlemen,’ cried Sir Penn, ‘I think I may claim the right to be one of those to choose the sentence. As to my partner, I will leave the choice to yourselves.’
I could see by Sir Penn’s manner that he was determined to clear up the terrible suspicion that was haunting him.
‘I will be your partner, if I may,’ said Miss Haldane, and she went up to Sir Penn, and laid her hand on his arm.
He seemed to hesitate for a minute; then he looked into her eyes, and said softly:
‘As you wish.’
Sir Penn then turned to me.
‘Miss Marburg,’ he said, ‘may I ask you to accompany Mr Haldane from the room?’
‘With pleasure,’ I replied. I felt interested and excited, and was determined that no trickery should be played if I could prevent it.
Karl Haldane and I repaired to the library, and in exactly ten minutes’ time returned to the drawing-room. There was a dead silence. Sir Penn and Miss Haldane stood at the further end of the room. Karl Haldane at once took up his position, with his back towards them. Being, as it were, in the position of umpire, I determined to watch the experiment with the utmost vigilance, and accordingly I crossed the room to where Sir Penn and Miss Haldane were standing. I stood near them and took care to watch them both. They were absolutely still. Miss Haldane’s hands were locked in front of her, her features were as quiet as though she were sitting for her photograph; her face was whiter than usual, and her strange eyes had a staring look. I thought the expression of the eyes unnatural – she looked as though she were about to cry.
Fully five minutes passed, and then Mr Haldane called out in a clear, musical voice:
‘I have received the impression. Judge, please, if I am correct. I presume I must thank Sir Penn for this copybook sentence. It is as follows:
‘“If you are using your powers for fraudulent purposes, beware!”
‘Am I right, Sir Penn?’
The Baronet’s reply was to come forward, open his pocket-book and hand the clairvoyant a banknote for ten pounds. There was quite a sensation in the room.
Later that same evening Sir Penn found an opportunity of seeing me alone.
‘What do you think of this affair?’ he asked.
‘I cannot tell you what I think of it at present,’ was my answer. ‘I am certain there is an explanatory cause, although what it is I cannot say. Let me think over everything most carefully. Mr Haldane leaves tomorrow, does he not?’
‘Yes, thank goodness, by an early train. I don’t like the man and I cannot pretend that I do. I wish with all my heart he were not Esther’s brother. But let us turn to something more important. Tomorrow the trial of my horses takes place. I propose that you and Mrs Percival and Miss Haldane and myself go to see it. I have a colt named Fritz, who is in for the Derby, and I think I know what he can do. If the trial goes as I expect, Fritz will be the winner. The result of tomorrow’s trial must be kept absolutely a secret until I can operate in the market. If I find that the information again gets out – well, I shall cease to keep racehorses.’
‘I will do my very best for you, Sir Penn,’ I answered.
When he had left me I went to my room – there I sat down and prepared to think out the enigma. Hour after hour went by, and my busy brain felt on fire. Each moment I became more and more certain that some fraud was being worked by Mr Haldane, but he could scarcely manage this without an accomplice, and terrible as the idea was, if there really was foul play, his sister must stand in that position towards him. Her hand betrayed her. What her motive was it was impossible to tell, but her hand made crime a contingency not too remote to contemplate.
As I thought and thought I became certain that if only I could discover the key to that evening’s performance, I should have also the key to the entire position. I recalled the scene vividly. Miss Haldane’s curious and rigid attitude; the peculiar expression in her eyes. I thought of all the ordinary methods of communication – hand language – lip language. Both were out of the question. Yet the means must have been very sure in order to communicate the exact wording of the sentence.
Through what channel of the senses could it have passed? Was there any movement? I fixed my memory again, centring my whole thoughts upon it. The eyes! Esther Haldane’s eyes had always struck me as wonderful – nay more, as odd. They looked very odd as I gazed at them while the clairvoyant at the other end of the room was thinking out the sentence. She had blinked several times, too, as if about to cry.
I arose from my chair. A strange idea had struck me. I lit
