gger, as you see, and old Bellett's getting
about again, so that the whole business can be hushed up, decently. All
the same I fancy the Chapel will never lose its reputation as a dangerous
place. Should be pretty safe now to keep valuables in."

"There's two things you haven't explained yet," I said. "What do you
think caused the two clangey sounds when you were in the Chapel in the
dark? And do you believe the soft tready sounds were real, or only a
fancy, with your being so worked up and tense?"

"Don't know for certain about the clangs," replied Carnacki.

"I've puzzled quite a bit about them. I can only think that the spring
which worked the post must have 'given' a trifle, slipped you know, in
the catch. If it did, under such a tension, it would make a bit of a
ringing noise. And a little sound goes a long way in the middle of the
night when you're thinking of 'ghostesses.' You can understand that--eh?"

"Yes," I agreed. "And the other sounds?"

"Well, the same thing--I mean the extraordinary quietness--may help to
explain these a bit. They may have been some usual enough sound that
would never have been noticed under ordinary conditions, or they may have
been only fancy. It is just impossible to say. They were disgustingly
real to me. As for the slithery noise, I am pretty sure that one of the
tripod legs of my camera must have slipped a few inches: if it did so, it
may easily have jolted the lens cap off the baseboard, which would
account for that queer little tap which I heard directly after."

"How do you account for the dagger being in its place above the altar
when you first examined it that night?" I asked. "How could it be there,
when at that very moment it was set in the trap?"

"That was my mistake," replied Carnacki. "The dagger could not possibly
have been in its sheath at the time, though I thought it was. You see,
the curious cross-hilted sheath gave the appearance of the complete
weapon, as you can understand. The hilt of the dagger protrudes very
little above the continued portion of the sheath--a most inconvenient
arrangement for drawing quickly!" He nodded sagely at the lot of us and
yawned, then glanced at the clock.

"Out you go!" he said, in friendly fashion, using the recognized formula.
"I want a sleep."

We rose, shook him by the hand, and went out presently into the night and
the quiet of the Embankment, and so to our homes.

***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CARNACKI, TH