“Nothing of the sort,” with a conviction that has never left me. “This
ring is a perfectly sound fact, as indisputable as the submarine.
There's nothing supernatural about it; for that matter, I personally
doubt if there's ANYTHING supernatural. Every phenomenon which seems,
at first, so wonderful, becomes commonplace enough as soon as explained.
Isn't it true that you yourself are already getting used to that ring?”
“Ye--es,” reluctantly. “That is, partly. If only it were someone other
than Harry!”
“Of course,” I hurried to say, “I only wanted to make it clear that
we haven't any witchcraft to deal with. This whole mystery will become
plain as day, and that damned soon!”
“You've got a theory?”--hopefully.
“Several; that's the trouble!” I had to admit. “I don't know which is
best to follow out.--It may be a spiritualistic thing after all. Or
it may fall under the head of 'abnormal psychology'. Nothing but
hallucinations, in other words.”
“Oh, that won't do!”--evidently distressed. “I know what I saw! I'd
doubt my reason if I thought I'd only fancied it!”
“So would I. Well, laying aside the spiritualistic theory, there remains
the possibility of some hitherto undiscovered scientific secret. And
if the Rhamda is in possession of it, then the matter simmers down to a
plain case of villainy.”
“But how does he do it?”
“That's the whole question. However, I'm sure of this”--I was fingering
the ring as I spoke. The reproduction of our friends had faded, now,
leaving that dully glowing pale blue light once more. “This ring is
absolutely real; it's no hallucination. It performs as well in broad
daylight as in the night; no special conditions needed. It's neither a
fraud nor an illusion.
“In short, this ring is merely a phenomenon which science has not YET
explained! That it can and will be explained is strictly up to us! Once
we understand its peculiar properties, we can mighty soon rescue Harry!”
And it was just then that a most extraordinary thing occurred. It
happened so very unexpectedly, so utterly without warning, that it makes
me shaky to this day whenever I recall it.
From the gem on Charlotte's finger--or rather, from the air surrounding
the ring--came an unmistakable sound. We saw nothing whatever; we only
heard. And it was clear, as loud and as startling as though it had
occurred right in the room where we were discussing the situation.
It was the sharp, joyous bark of a dog.
XX
THE HOUSE OF MIRACLES
Looking back over what has just been written, I am sensible of a
profound gratitude. I am grateful, both because I have been given the
privilege of relating these events, and because I shall not have to
leave this wilderness of facts for someone else to explain.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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