"His terror is genuine, and his superstitious tale is probably the outer shell of some kernel of fact that may possibly be valuable. In cases of circumstantial evidence, you and I know the importance of looking carefully into the merest trifles. Come with me; you can spare an hour."
Leaving the carriage at the front entrance of the deserted and stately old house, the attorneys crossed the terrace and walked around to the western veranda, preceded by Bedney, who paused at the steps, and waved them to ascend.
"Go up and see for yourselves. I am nigh as I want to git."
The stone floor was strewn with branches of rose vine, and the pruning shears lay open upon them, just as they had fallen from the old man's hand. The sun had passed several degrees below the meridian, and the shadows of the twisted iron columns were aslant eastward, but the glare of light shone on the plate-glass door, which was rounded into an arch at top, and extended within four inches of the surface of the floor, where it fitted into the wooden frame. It was one wide sheet, unbroken into panes, and on the outside dust had collected, and a family of spiders had colonized in the lower corner, spinning their gray lace quite across the base. It was evident that the Venetian blinds had long been closed, and recently opened, as a line of dust and dried drift leaves attested; and behind the glass hung the dull red, plush curtain, almost to the floor.
Both gentlemen pressed forward, and looked in; but saw nothing.
"Hang your head kinder sideways, down so, and look up, Mars Lennox."
Mr. Dunbar changed his position, and after an instant, started back.
"Do you see it, Churchill? No hallucination; it is as plain as print, just like the negative of a photograph."
"Bless my soul! It beats the Chinese jugglers! What a curious thing!"
"Stand back a little; you obstruct the light. Now, how clearly it comes out."