"No," said I, "we decided that we would restrain our impatience, in order to give you a chance of taking part in the next séance. We thought it would add to your interest in the Girdle, if you could witness a real tragedy."
"What a bloodthirsty young villain you are," said my father, with a laugh.
"Personally," said I, thinking it time to reassure my uncle, "I am quite certain that nothing dreadful will happen again, and Edwards is of the same opinion. He says that he no longer has the tingly feeling and he has no presentiment of evil, both of which I consider good signs. Moreover, he has elaborated a marvellous theory, though I myself cannot follow it. He has worked it out by what he calls the "Law of the Three plus Five, equals Eight," and he argues something like this:—Raspul was killed with the Golden Girdle in his hand, after having blown up Three Shammar. Remember the number 3. Then when Kellner fled with the Girdle and was pursued, he shot Five Shammar. Remember the number 5, and the total 8. Now we begin with 3 again, the two Birs Nimroud Jews and Yusuf Mersina; then four Shammar of the original party which stole the Girdle, plus Kellner, equals 5. Hence, we have two groups of 3 plus 5 equals 8——"
"Heavens alive!" interrupted my father, "are you going on with this much longer?"
"Only a little more," said I, laughing, "but it is really interesting. Edwards has spent a deal of time over it. Listen to his deductions. He places the dead Raspul at one end of the Golden Girdle, and the dead Shustri at the other end; and he maintains that as Raspul had directly and indirectly caused the deaths of 8 men; so when Shustri had directly or indirectly caused the deaths of a similar number, then the chain had to be completed by his own death."
"With all due deference to the brain power of your worthy friend," said my father, "I have never heard such a lot of rubbish in my life. I should say that he required looking after. Is he all right otherwise?"
"Perfectly," said I. "But you have not heard quite all. We now go back to the famous mare Shahzadi—the heroine of the shoe. You remember the eight nail-holes. Well, because Shahzadi cast that eight-nailed shoe, the Golden Girdle came into Raspul's possession, and gave him the mystic number 8."
"And what about the numbers 3 and 5?" asked my uncle, who was listening with all seriousness. "The doctor seems to have forgotten his 3 plus 5."
"I know," said I. "I attacked him about that, but was told politely that I was dull of comprehension. Edwards explained it away by saying that originally Shahzadi's shoe, of course, had 3 nail-holes on either side, and if they had drilled the two new holes on the same side, then his theory would have been proved undeniably. We should have had the 3 plus 5 equals 8. As things are, he considers that the mare's hoof probably would not stand having 5 nails on one side, and so they had to equalise the number."
"Most ingenious!" said my father, "though a trifle weak. But your friend thinks that the evil spirit which was in the Girdle has now flown, does he not?"