Holmes did so with much eagerness, but, although the trio waited some minutes in silence, there was no response.
'I deduct from that,' said Doyle, 'that the servants have gone to bed. After I have quite satisfied all your claims in the way of hunger for food and gold, I shall take you back in my motor car, unless you prefer to stay here the night.'
'You are very kind,' said Sherlock Holmes.
'Not at all,' replied Doyle. 'Just take that chair, draw it up to the table and we will divide the second swag.'
The chair indicated differed from all others in the room. It was straight-backed, and its oaken arms were covered by two plates, apparently of German silver. When Holmes clutched it by the arms to drag it forward, he gave one half-articulate gasp, and plunged headlong to the floor, quivering. Sir George Newnes sprang up standing with a cry of alarm. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle remained seated, a seraphic smile of infinite satisfaction playing about his lips.
'Has he fainted?' cried Sir George.
'No, merely electrocuted. A simple device the Sheriff of New York taught me when I was over there last.'
'Merciful heavens! Cannot he be resuscitated?'
'My dear Newnes,' said Doyle, with the air of one from whose shoulders a great weight is lifted, 'a man may fall into the chasm at the foot of the Reichenbach Fall and escape to record his adventures later, but when two thousand volts pass through the human frame, the person who owns that frame is dead.'
'You don't mean to say you've murdered him?' asked Sir George, in an awed whisper.