Of course, after my first moment of surprise, I realised that
the laugh was but an echo of my own. The old walls of the old house
were like sounding-boards. The place resembled an ancient fiddle,
still tremulous with the music that had been played on it. It was easy
to understand how a superstitious population came to believe in its
being haunted; in fact, I found by experiment that if one trod quickly
along the uncovered floor of the corridor, and stopped suddenly, one
seemed to hear the sound of steps still going on.
I now returned to the stair head, and examined the bare polished
boards with most gratifying results. Amazed at having learnt so much
in such a short time, I took from my pocket the paper on which the
dying nobleman had attempted to write with his half-paralysed hand.
The chief constable had given the document to me, and I sat on the
stair head, spread it out on the floor and scrutinised it. It was all
but meaningless. Apparently two words and the initial letter of a
third had been attempted. Now, however grotesque a piece of writing
may be, you can sometimes decipher it by holding it at various angles,
as those puzzles are solved which remain a mystery when gazed at
direct.
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