They ran out to a village some ten miles away. If the doctor had felt any nervousness about his host’s powers as a motor driver, that feeling was soon dispelled. Lord Templewood drove with care and discretion. When they turned homeward again, Dr. Hailey broached the subject which he had made up his mind to discuss.
“I suppose,” he said, “that in your experience as a spiritualist, you have come across mediums who were dishonest — who were frank impostors?”
“Oh, yes.” Lord Templewood’s tones did not invite further discussion.
“It is doubtless a great temptation — to make use of fraud when the natural powers are overstrained.”
“Doubtless.”
Again, it was evident that the subject was highly distasteful. The doctor made up his mind to use a more direct method.
“I took upon myself,” he declared, “to order Mile. Ninon Darelli to return to London this morning — because of that demonstration last night of the galloping horseman.”
The car swerved. For a moment, it seemed that an accident was inevitable. Then Lord Templewood managed to regain control. He brought the vehicle to a standstill.
“Will you explain to me,” he said, in tones of remarkable coolness, “exactly what you are suggesting — about Ninon.”
Dr. Hailey thought a moment. He could not overlook the danger that if he told the exact truth, and was believed, he might shatter, at a single blow, the whole foundation of this man’s life.
On the other hand, he could scarcely doubt — after what he had seen — that such a catastrophe was the very object which Ninon Darelli had set out to achieve. If she returned, anything might happen, since poisons both of the body and of the mind were at her disposal.
“I am suggesting that Ninon is a fraudulent medium,” he said, in quiet tones.
“You mean that the galloping horseman had no real existence?”
“I mean that the sound of galloping was faked — there are various ways, known to every impostor, of reproducing such a sound.”
Lord Templewood sighed deeply.
“You are wrong, Dr. Hailey,” he said quietly. “And the proof is this. Not only did I hear that sound, I felt it.”
The doctor contracted his broad brow.
“That,” he said, “can be explained easily enough without invoking the supernatural to explain it. Some people are endowed with a marvelous sensitive sense of vibration. They feel every sound.”
The car resumed its way, though at a slower pace. When the car came near the castle, Lord Templewood turned again to the doctor.
“I have considered your opinion,” he announced. “I hope that I have accorded it its due weight. But I have not accepted it — not yet, at any rate. There are reasons why I wish you, if you will, to ask Ninon to return here — since you took it on yourself to send her away.”
“What reasons?” Dr. Hailey’s voice was almost peremptory.
“The fact that she administers my narcotic drugs. I have a great horror of thrusting a hypodermic needle into my own flesh. The fact, also, that she certainly is able to summon to me my angel, Beatrice.”
The courteous manner of the old man was unruffled. Yet the doctor fancied he detected just a shade of anxiety in the level tones.
“May I speak a word of warning,” he asked, “as a man, rather than as a physician?”
“Of course.”
“Those to whom we intrust the care of both our minds and our bodies possess over us a power of measureless strength.”
“I am aware of that. On the other hand, it is better, surely, to live dangerously than not to live at all.”
They came to the bridge across the moat. Lord Templewood handed the car over to a servant, because the garages were situated some distance from the house. Then he asked:
“What advantage could Ninon derive if... if she did undermine my reason? I pay her well. If I were sent to an asylum, she would get nothing more.”
Again that note of uneasiness was in his voice.
Dr. Hailey shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “I have been asking myself that very question for the last twelve hours, but, so far, I confess that I have found no answer to it.”
“You will send for Ninon?”
“Yes, if you will permit me to send also for your niece, Mrs. Malone.”
Chapter XVIII
“Polly Flinders”
Ninon came by the last train. She found Dr. Hailey and Lord Templewood seated in the great hall of the castle. She left them immediately and ascended the stairs to her bedroom. They heard the car which had brought her from the station drive away to the garages. The doctor noticed that his patient’s senses were strained to follow that receding sound.
He took his snuffbox from his pocket, and helped himself to a large pinch.
Suddenly, his eyes narrowed. Lord Templewood’s face had grown pale; his hands were twitching. Dr. Hailey listened. The sound of a horse’s hooves came very faintly to his ears.
He leaned toward his host as if about to ask him a question, but a peremptory gesture commanded him to silence Lord Templewood shrank back in his chair, like a man who hears at last the approach of a long-expected doom. Beads of perspiration stood out on his brow. The sound of the hooves grew louder. Dr. Hailey replaced his snuffbox in his pocket, and rose from his chair.
“Don’t move — for God’s sake.”
The old man was glaring so wildly, his tones were so fully charged with horror, that the doctor resumed his seat again. The hooves clattered to the drawbridge and came thudding and stamping across it to the great door. There was a loud rapping on the door. Lord Templewood rose, as a condemned criminal may rise, to answer the summons of the hangman. He stood with bloodless lips and quaking knees, a figure of tragedy.
“Shall I open?”
“Don’t move.”
Silence held them in a strong grasp. Then, suddenly, the thudding of the hooves on the wooden bridge began again. The hooves receded.
Dr. Hailey sprang to his patient and caught him before he fell. He helped him back to his chair, and set him down in it.
Then he strode to the door and threw it open.
There was nobody behind the door, nor could he hear any sound of hooves in the still night.
Dr. Hailey closed the door and returned to Lord Templewood, who had recovered slightly. There was a look of bewilderment in the doctor’s eyes. Lord Templewood asked:
“There is nobody there?”
“Nobody.”
“Did you hear the hooves going away?”
“No.”
“Oh, God!”
The old man shuddered. He covered his face with his thin, clawlike hands, and remained thus during several minutes. Then, suddenly, he looked up.
“That sound,” he said, in low tones, “fell on my ears for the first time at the most awful moment of my life. Twenty years ago, on the night before her death, my angel Beatrice rode to that door.”
He broke off suddenly, and stumbled to his feet.
“I shall go to bed, I think.”
Dr. Hailey offered his arm, but the offer was refused. Lord Templewood moved toward the stairway. Suddenly, they heard a quick step on the drawbridge. A key grated in the lock of the front door, which opened to admit Dick Lovelace. Lord Templewood turned sharply. He demanded:
“Have you come from the village?”
“Yes.”
“You... you did not meet anybody on horseback?” There was a ring almost of entreaty in the tones, as though the old man clutched still at the hope of an ordinary explanation of the sound of the hooves.