“They did not make themselves clear on that point, and they didn’t take anything, so I am at a loss to explain their conduct. They merely stopped me, felt through my pockets and searched the car; then told me to drive on.”
“Perhaps this will throw some light on their motive,” I said, handing him the letter.
As he read it a look of surprise came over his face.
“Ah! It is quite plain, now. These were the armed guards mentioned in the postscript. It seems incredible that such superstition should prevail in this enlightened age; however, the evidence is quite too plain to be questioned. What is to be done?”
“Frankly, I don’t know,” I replied. “We are evidently so well watched that it would be impossible for anyone to go for help. Of course, they cannot harm my deceased uncle by driving a stake through the corpse, but to permit these barbarians to carry out their purpose would be to desecrate the memory of the best friend I ever had.”
“What are they going to do?” asked Miss Randall in alarm. I handed her the letter. She read it hastily, then ran downstairs to see if the telephone was working.
“What would you say if I were to tell you there is a strong possibility that your uncle’s body is not a corpse; or, in other words, that he is not really dead?” asked the professor.
“I would say that if there is the slightest possibility of that, they will make a corpse of me before they stage this vampire funeral,” I replied, starting to dress.
“I am with you in that,” said he, extending his hand, “and now let us examine the evidence.”