“At last,” he said taking out the faded document, which meant so much to him. Without a word he handed it to Ena. It was much faded, and had been soaked with sea water, but was still readable.
Sinclair rose and put the record on the Dictaphone which he wound up and started. Of all the gruesome things that this room had witnessed this was the strangest. The now familiar words of the quarrel were repeated between the dead and the living.
Brown was shaking as though he had seen a ghost, and the others were strangely moved.
“Oh, shut it off, for Heaven’s sake,” said Sefton, and at the moment with the final shriek it ceased with a click.
All eyes had been rivetted on the instrument, when Sinclair rose with a cry of alarm.
“Stop him,” he shouted, pointing a finger at Giles.
Brown and Andrews seized the old man, who made no resistance, but smiled at them.
“No, you fools, he’s taken poison,” and Sinclair rushed round the table, and forced open the grim jaws, but it was too late, and with a heavy groan the old man collapsed. Sefton sprang to Sinclair’s side and ripped open Giles’ waistcoat. A moment’s examination was sufficient.
“He’s dead,” he said solemnly, “it must have been a terribly rapid poison.”
Ena had burst into tears, the strain had been too great, and Halley rose and went to her side.