uld see, gave
any evidence of having been lately handled; and anxious to waste no
time on puerile details, I hastily quitted my chair, and was
proceeding to turn my attention elsewhere, when I noticed on an
upper shelf, a book projecting slightly beyond the others. Instantly
my foot was on the chair and the book in my hand. Did I find it of
interest? Yes, but not on account of its contents, for they were
pure Greek to me; but because it lacked the dust on its upper edge
which had marked every other volume I had handled. This, then, was
what had attracted the unknown to these shelves, this--let me see
if I can remember its title--Disquisition upon Old Coastlines.
Pshaw! I was wasting my time. What had such a dry compendium as
this to do with the body lying in its blood a few steps behind me,
or with the hand which had put out the candle upon this dreadful
deed? Nothing. I replaced the book, but not so hastily as to push
it one inch beyond the position in which I found it. For, if it
had a tale to tell, then was it my business to leave that tale to
be read by those who understood books better than I did.

My next move was toward the little table holding the candelabrum
with the glittering pendants. This table was one of a nest standing
against a near-by wall. Investigation proved that it had been
lifted from the others and brought to its present position within a
very short space of time. For the dust lying thick on its top was
almost entirely lacking from the one which had been nested under it.
Neither had the candelabrum been standing there long, dust being
found under as well as around it. Had her hand brought it there?
Hardly, if it came from the top of the mantel toward which I now
turned in my course of investigation.

I have already mentioned this mantel more than once. This I could
hardly avoid, since in and about it lay the heart of the mystery for
which the room was remarkable. But though I have thus freely spoken
of it, and though it was not absent from my thoughts for a moment,
I had not ventured to approach it beyond a certain safe radius. Now,
in looking to see if I might not lessen this radius, I experienced
that sudden and overwhelming interest in its every feature which
attaches to all objects peculiarly associated with danger.

I even took a step toward it, holding up my lamp so that a stray ray
struck the faded surface of an old engraving hanging over the
fireplace.

It was the wel