They crowded closer to see, and learned that the column was made in two half sections, one in the hall and one outside. These, again, were divided horizontally, about seven feet above the floor, and the joint concealed by a decorative wreath of bronze oak boughs.
The column was hollow, and one half the shaft revolved within the other, which, in turn, revolved over the first, so that by successive movements of the two, one could pass right through the vestibule wall, and close the opening after him, leaving no trace of his entry or exit. The vestibule wall, of mahogany, concealed the longitudinal joint in the column when closed. The doors were hinged to this wooden wall, and were opened and closed, and locked, quite independently of the columns. Owing to perfectly adjusted ball bearings, and a thoroughly oiled condition, the mechanism worked easily and soundlessly.
“The whole contraption was brought from Italy,” Stebbins informed them, “by the original Montgomery. I don’t think he ever used it for any wrong doings, though they do say, soldiers was smuggled through in war times, and contraband smuggling went on, too. But those is only rumours and probably exaggerated.”
“You exaggerated the ghost stories, too, didn’t you, Mr. Stebbins?” asked Wise.
“I didn’t need to, sir. Those yarns of the Shawled Woman, have been told and retold so many years now, they’ve grown way beyond their first facts, if there ever was any truth to ’em. This here column, only one of ’em revolves,—has always been kept secret, but when the little witch child made me see it was my duty to tell of it, tell of it I did. Now, sir, go ahead and find who committed them dastardly murders and I’ll consider I did right to break my oath of secrecy.”
“No one will blame you for it,” said Professor Hardwick, who was still experimenting with the revolving column. “This is a marvellous piece of workmanship, Landon. I never saw such before.”
Pennington Wise was covertly watching all the faces as the various ones peered into the opening left when the column was turned. He stood on guard, too, and when Eve curiously bent down to open a long box, which stood up on end, against the inside of the bronze cylinder, he reached ahead of her.
“Yes,” he said, consentingly, “let us see what is in here.”
In full view of all, he opened the long box, such a box as long stemmed roses might have been packed in, and took from it a voluminous cloak of thin white material, a flimsy, white shawl, and a mask that represented a skull.
“The paraphernalia of the Shawled Woman,” the detective said, exhibiting the things, “your property, Mr. Stebbins?”