“George looked down. Instead of two hands—his own two hands—on the pick, there were three, and the third was white and luminous. With a shriek, George dropped the pick, and sprang away from it, as if it had been a serpent.
“My God! There’s Dick! He’s just behind you”
“‘Do you believe me now?’ I remarked. ‘If that wasn’t Dick’s hand, I’ve never seen it. Besides, I could swear to his ring among a thousand. Have you noticed how dark it has been getting?’
“‘I’ve noticed nothing,’ George muttered, picking up his tool. ‘It’s all your talk that has done it—you’ve upset my nerves.’ He raised his pick and began to work again, but his hands shook so much he struck his leg and dropped the implement with a cry of pain.
“‘It’s nothing,’ he growled, as I sprang to his side; ‘only the skin grazed. But I reckon I’ll sit down a bit—I’m all of a tremble.’
“He had moved nearer to the edge of the pit, and was about to sit down with his back towards it, when I cried, ‘My God! There’s Dick! He’s just behind you. He’s pointing at you, George. I see it all now! George, you devil—you murdered him!’
“George looked round—and there, bending over him, was a tall figure, with a strangely white face. He threw out his hands to keep the figure off, and, as he did so, he slipped, and fell, with one loud yell of terror, into the pit. I heard him strike the side of the great abyss once—then thud—that was all!
“Sick at heart, I reeled back to the safety of the niche where we had been working, and, as I did so, my eyes fell on the lamp—the flame was now white and normal.