Carse smiled pitiably. “There are more things in heaven and earth,” he began; then he heaved his shoulders as if flinging off an attempt at levity. “The human mind is a strange organ, and no man can explain its mysteries. I have seen too much of atavism to ridicule any theories. There is nothing we can do but wait and hope that the German servant’s prediction is true. Six or seven. Six—or seven?”
“Do you mean you expect me to grant you leniency?” I exclaimed. “Great heavens, Carse, there have been six horrible murders! Society demands a reckoning.”
“I have atoned enough for ten times six!” he cried. “Have you no soul in you? The crimes will stop now. The German said they would, and everything else he predicted has come true. As my lifelong friend it is your duty to see me through.”
“But those six——”
“No man can bring them back to life, but I am still a living man and you must save me. I shall divide my estate among the families of the six, and I swear to you that I shall never open a book on criminology again. You must do it—you must!”
“Do you honestly believe it is over?” I asked hoarsely.
“I do; with all my heart and soul, I do!”
“But you would say that anyway,” I cried. “Suppose there is a Number Seven? The blood will be upon my hands as well as yours. It is an awful responsibility, Carse. There must be no more.”
“There won’t be. I swear there won’t be!”