"——not think that I have any other than an honorable intention. For again I say that if we seek to know the spirit world we must purge ourselves of all dross.
"I am, your obedient servant,
"John Charlton Beardsley."
"This is of importance", said Durgan. "He intended to go to the house on the fatal day, and there is suggestion of material for a quarrel over some unknown person—a woman, probably, as Mrs. Claxton's presence is required."
"Is there reason to assume this third person unknown? It may have been a name that is erased, or it may have been a pronoun in the second person. Shall we read on?"
The next letter was dated the day after the crime. It ran:
"Mrs. Durgan:
"Madame—I am sensible of kindness in your inquiries about my health. I have, as you are aware, received a great shock in hearing of the terrible fate of our friend, Mr. Claxton. Alas! In the midst of life we are in death. I had, as you know, held the intention of paying him a call upon that very day, but, instead, fell into a trance soon after my simple breakfast of bread and milk. In that trance I saw the dark deed committed, but could not see the actor. The terror of the hour has preyed upon my health. If I can keep my evening engagements this week it will be all that I can do. I will not see you again at present, except in public. Your obedient servant,
J. C. B."
"Do you think he could possibly have gone out and done it in his trance, and never known his own guilt?" asked Durgan.
"Observe that that letter appears to be written from Beardsley's, while 'Dolphus swears that he was then in Mrs. Durgan's house."
The next was a reply from Mrs. Durgan, upon the costly, scented paper her husband knew so well—crest and monogram and address embossed in several delicate colors. It was dated the same day.
"Dear Mr. Charlton Beardsley: I am sorry indeed to hear that your health has been too greatly strained by spiritual exercises and (may I not say?) by too great abstinence. I regret this on my own account, for I am deprived of the valuable instruction you have been giving me in spiritual matters. I confess I cannot glean so much wisdom from you when I meet you only in the more public séance. But on no account risk any danger to your health. Yours cordially,
"Anna Durgan.
"P.S.—I was so absorbed in my personal disappointment that I have forgotten to express my horror and sympathy at the terrible news (which is now in all the papers) concerning your friend, Mr. Claxton, and his family."
Next, with the same date, came another note from Mrs. Durgan, briefly inviting the medium to pay a week's visit at her house, and stating that an old nurse of her own would wait on him if he preferred to keep his room.