“Besides this machine, he shewed us a crooked tube, which was fixed to the ceiling, and reached down to the middle of the room. This tube, said the Unknown, is in communication with the wall of the upper apartment where it ends in the open jaw of one of the four lions which are standing in the corner of that room. By means of that tube, one cannot only hear very distinctly in this room what is spoken in the upper apartment, but one hears equally distinctly what one speaks here, without suspecting from whence the voice proceeds. You know, my lord, from your own experience how well the Unknown knew how to render these machines serviceable to his plan.
“Before the Unknown left the castle, he asked me in what apartment the Countess was used to receive strangers? ‘In the room,’ I replied, ‘contiguous to that in the floor of which the moveable cone is fixed.’—He left us with visible marks of satisfaction.
“The next day he came again to the castle, and meeting me at the gate, exclaimed in accents of joy, ‘To-morrow already we must begin to work miracles. I have invented a plan which cannot miscarry. The young nobleman will come to the castle to-night. Place some lights in the windows of the upper and lower apartments, that he may find his way to the castle, and order the gates to be opened without delay, as soon as you hear him ring the bell. The Countess, who will be gone to bed by that time, cannot see him before to-morrow morning. When you shall have introduced him to her, then you must return to her apartment, after a short interval and deliver this box and the note which I am going to give you, into the hands of the Countess. If you are asked who has brought it, describe me as you have seen me the first time I came to the castle gate. The young nobleman will be desirous to see and to speak to me, but you must tell him that I had left the castle after the box and the note had been delivered. He will order you to pursue me without delay; however, I will save you that trouble, for I shall stay at the castle, and surrender to you as soon as you shall want me. Keep some cords ready, which must be cut asunder and slightly sewn again together. With these cords you must tie me, and charge some of the servants to conduct me to the Countess, pretending that I had refused obstinately to return. Then I shall tear the cords asunder, fly into the adjoining room, and bolt the door after me. Meanwhile you must expect me in the lower apartment and unfasten the bolt beneath the cone, that I may sink down as soon as I shall get upon the latter. When the cone shall have snapt back into its former place, you must be ready to fasten it by means of the bolt. When the Countess and her guest, impatient to seize me, shall force open the door and find the room empty, they will fancy me to be a supernatural being, not being acquainted with the secret of the machine.’
“You know my Lord, how punctually and successfully this design has been put into execution. An accident was the cause of a second more important plan, the execution of which has not been less successful. The Unknown, who after his disappearance was listening attentively, in the secret chamber, heard among other discourses, by means of the tube, the prayer which the Countess addressed to him on account of the apparition of her deceased Lord. He reflected a few minutes on the possibility of granting it, and promised to satisfy her wishes. The tube was the channel through which the Unknown conveyed his answer to the Countess.”
Seized with astonishment at Paleski’s narration, and impatient to hear its continuation, I had not interrupted him once; but now I could not refrain any longer from speaking. “Then Amelia is really innocent?” I exclaimed, “and was not privy to the artifices of the Unknown?”
“Not in the least!” Paleski replied, “as I wish to be saved! The Countess is innocent; she has been deceived as well as your Lordship, and probably her faith in the supernatural power of the Unknown, is still as firm as it was then.”
This declaration lessened my anger at having been deceived in so villainous a manner, I begged Paleski to continue his account.
“Does your Lordship recollect all the particulars of the apparition scene?”
“Yes! I do.”
“Well, then I will explain it to you. On the day previous to the magical farce, the Unknown told me that he had gained over to our party the brother-in-law of the Countess, who had arrived lately, in order to surprise Amelia unexpected, and promised to act the part of the ghost—”