"We will soon see about that," I cried, taking the lantern. "Half the danger is over, at any rate; and the worst half, too."
We rushed along the passage and up the stair until we reached the top.
"Why, Clinton," I cried, holding up the lantern, "the place was not shut at all."
Nor was it. In his terror he had imagined it.
"I could not see in the dark, and I was nearly dead with fright," he said. "Oh, Bell, let us get out of this as quickly as we can!"
We crushed through the aperture and once more stood in the chapel. I then pushed the stone back into its place.
Dawn was just breaking when we escaped from the chapel. We hastened across to the house. In the hall the clock pointed to five.
"Well, we have had an awful time," I said, as we stood in the hall together; "but at least, Clinton, the end was worth the ghastly terror. I have knocked the bottom out of your family legend for ever."
"I don't even now quite understand," he said.
"Don't you?—but it is so easy. That coffin never contained a body at all, but was filled, as you perceive, with fragments of magnetic iron-ore. For what diabolical purposes the cell was intended, it is, of course, impossible to say; but that it must have been meant as a human trap there is little doubt. The inventor certainly exercised no small ingenuity when he devised his diabolical plot, for it was obvious that the door, which was made of iron, would swing towards the coffin wherever it happened to be placed. Thus the door would shut if the coffin were inside the cell, and would remain open if the coffin were brought out. A cleverer method for simulating a spiritual agency it would be hard to find. Of course, the monk must have known well that magnetic iron-ore never loses its quality and would ensure the deception remaining potent for ages."