“The question now is, to whom was it written?” We pondered that, to
no effect. That Hawkins had certain letters which touched on the Wells
affair, that they were probably in his possession in the Connell house,
was clear enough. But we had no possible authority for trying to get the
letters, although Sperry was anxious to make the attempt.
“Although I feel,” he said, “that it is too late to help her very much.
She is innocent; I know that. I think you know that, too, deep in
that legal mind of yours. It is wrong to discredit her because I did a
foolish thing.” He warmed to his argument. “Why, think, man,” he said.
“The whole first sitting was practically coincident with the crime
itself.”
It was true enough. Whatever suspicion might be cast on the second
seance, the first at least remained inexplicable, by any laws we
recognized. In a way, I felt sorry for Sperry. Here he was, on the first
day of his engagement, protesting her honesty, her complete ignorance of
the revelations she had made and his intention to keep her in ignorance,
and yet betraying his own anxiety and possible doubt in the same breath.
“She did not even know there was a family named Wells. When I said that
Hawkins had been employed by the Wells, it meant nothing to her. I was
watching.”
So even Sperry was watching. He was in love with her, but his scientific
mind, like my legal one, was slow to accept what during the past two
weeks it had been asked to accept.
I left him at ten o’clock. Mrs. Dane was still at her window, and her
far-sighted old eyes caught me as I tried to steal past. She rapped on
the window, and I was obliged to go in. Obliged, too, to tell her of the
discovery and, at last, of Hawkins being in the Connell house.
“I want those letters, Horace,” she said at last.
“So do I. I’m not going to steal them.”
“The question is, where has he got them?”
“The question is, dear lady, that they are not ours to take.”
“They are not his, either.”
Well, that was true enough. But I had done all the private investigating
I cared to. And I told her so. She only smiled cryptically.
So far as I know, Mrs. Dane was the only one among us who had entirely
escaped certain strange phenomena during that period, and as I have
only so far recorded my own experiences, I shall here place in order
the various manifestations made to the other members of the Neighborhood
Club during that trying period and in their own words. As none of them
have suffered since, a certain allowance must be made for our nervous
strain. As before, I shall offer no explanation.
Alice Robinson: On night following second seance saw a light in room,
not referable to any outside influence. Was an amorphous body which
glowed pallidly and moved about wall over fireplace, gradually coming to
stop in a corner, where it faded and disappeared.
Clara, Mrs. Dane’s secretary: Had not slept much since first seance. Was
frequently conscious that she was not alone in room, but on turning on
light room was always empty. Wakened twice with sense of extreme cold.
(I have recorded my own similar experience.)
Sperry has consistently maintained that he had no experiences whatever
during that period, but admits that he heard various knockings in his
bedroom at night, which he attributed to the lighting of his furnace,
and the resulting expansion of the furniture due to heat.
Herbert Robinson: Herbert was the most difficult member of the Club from
whom to secure data, but he has recently confessed that he was wakened
one night by the light falling on to his bed from a picture which hung
on the wall over his mantelpiece, and which stood behind a clock, two
glass vases and a pair of candlesticks. The door of his room was locked
at the time.
Mrs. Johnson: Had a great many minor disturbances, so that on rousing
one night to find me closing a window against a storm she thought I was
a spectre, and to this day insists that I only entered her room when I
heard her scream. For this reason I have made no record of her various
experiences, as I felt that her nervous condition precluded accurate
observation.
As in all records of psychic phenomena, the human element must be
considered, and I do not attempt either to analyze these various
phenomena or to explain them. Herbert, for instance, has been known to
walk in his sleep. But I respectfully offer, as opposed to this, that
my watch has never been known to walk at all, and that Mrs. Johnson’s
bracelet could hardly be accused of an attack of nerves.