Hughes turned back to the body again, and looked long and earnestly at the injured hand. "What sort of instrument made this wound, would you say, Mr. Godfrey?" he questioned, at last. "A sharp instrument, with two prongs. My theory is that the prongs are hollow, like a hypodermic needle, and leave a drop or two of poison at the bottom of the wound. You see a vein has been cut." "Yes," Hughes assented. "It would scarcely be possible to pierce the hand here without striking a vein. One of the prongs would be sure to do it." "That's the reason there are two of them, I fancy." "But you are, of course, aware that no poison exists which would act so quickly?" Hughes inquired. Godfrey looked at him strangely. "You yourself mentioned Florence a moment ago," he said. "You meant, I suppose, that such a poison did, at one time, exist there?" "Something of the sort, perhaps," agreed Hughes. "The words were purely instinctive, but I suppose some such thought was running through my head." "Well, the poison that existed in Florence five centuries ago, exists here to-day. There's the proof of it," and Godfrey pointed to the body. Hughes drew a deep breath of wonder and horror. "But what sort of devilish instrument is it?" he cried, his nerves giving way for an instant, his voice mounting shrilly. "Above all, who wields it?" He stared about the room, as though half-expecting to see some mighty and remorseless arm poised, ready to strike. Then he shook himself together. "I beg pardon," he said, mopping the sweat from his face; "but I'm not used to this sort of thing; and I'm frightened--yes, I really believe I'm frightened," and he laughed, a little unsteady laugh. "So am I," said Godfrey; "so is Lester; so is everybody. You needn't be ashamed of it." "What frightens me," went on Hughes, evidently studying his own symptoms, "is the mystery of it--there is something supernatural about it--something I can't understand. How does it happen that each of the victims is struck on the right hand? Why not the left hand? Why the hand at all?" Godfrey answered with a despairing shrug. "That is what we've got to find out," he said. "We shall have to call in the police," suggested Hughes. "Maybe they can solve it." Godfrey smiled, a little sceptical smile, quickly suppressed. "At least, they will have to be given the chance," he agreed. "Shall I attend to it?" "Yes," said Hughes; "and you would better do it right away. The sooner they get here the better." "Very well," assented Godfrey, and left the room.