“Several; that's the trouble!” I had to admit. “I don't know which is best to follow out.—It may be a spiritualistic thing after all. Or it may fall under the head of 'abnormal psychology'. Nothing but hallucinations, in other words.”
“Oh, that won't do!”—evidently distressed. “I know what I saw! I'd doubt my reason if I thought I'd only fancied it!”
“So would I. Well, laying aside the spiritualistic theory, there remains the possibility of some hitherto undiscovered scientific secret. And if the Rhamda is in possession of it, then the matter simmers down to a plain case of villainy.”
“But how does he do it?”
“That's the whole question. However, I'm sure of this”—I was fingering the ring as I spoke. The reproduction of our friends had faded, now, leaving that dully glowing pale blue light once more. “This ring is absolutely real; it's no hallucination. It performs as well in broad daylight as in the night; no special conditions needed. It's neither a fraud nor an illusion.
“In short, this ring is merely a phenomenon which science has not YET explained! That it can and will be explained is strictly up to us! Once we understand its peculiar properties, we can mighty soon rescue Harry!”
And it was just then that a most extraordinary thing occurred. It happened so very unexpectedly, so utterly without warning, that it makes me shaky to this day whenever I recall it.
From the gem on Charlotte's finger—or rather, from the air surrounding the ring—came an unmistakable sound. We saw nothing whatever; we only heard. And it was clear, as loud and as startling as though it had occurred right in the room where we were discussing the situation.
It was the sharp, joyous bark of a dog.