A crash broke the tense stillness as a statuette toppled to the floor, but the interruption came too late. Janet was deaf to her surroundings. She was obsessed with but one idea.
“I couldn’t find your coat,” she pleaded. “I had to bring the pendant direct to you, Chichester.”
Barnard dashed the jewel out of her extended palm and sprang for the door. But he was too late. Tom Nichols, with murder in his heart, was there before him, and he went down under the officer’s blow.
“Let me finish him, Duncan,” begged Tom, frantically, as the men dragged him off Barnard. “Let me kill the dastardly hound!”
“Control yourself, Nichols,” commanded Potter sternly. “Think of Janet.”
The admonition had the desired effect, and Tom, much against his will, permitted Marjorie to lead him away from the prostrate man.
“Is Janet in a hypnotic trance?” asked Duncan, staring at his sister.
“Yes,” replied the physician. “Barnard hypnotized her by means of sensorial excitement. I suspected as much because earlier this evening, I found Janet in a trance in the Chinese room, and before entering that room I heard the sound of a gong.”
“She struck the gong herself,” gasped Marjorie.
“Unconscious self-hypnotism,” commented Potter. “Probably Barnard used musical instruments, or perhaps the regular ticking of a clock to magnetize her so frequently that the law of repetition had its way when she heard the vibrations. I brought her back to her normal condition by placing my hand to the nape of her neck. Tell me,” he walked over and planted a hearty kick in the small of Barnard’s back. “What means did you use to awaken Janet?”