"Well, then?"

"Did you ever attend any of the exhibitions at the old Egyptian Hall?

One of the favorite illusions was the trick cabinet in which the performer seated himself in full view of the spectators. The doors would be closed for an instant, and then, when reopened, the man had disappeared. The full interior of the cabinet was plainly visible; it stood on legs, which precluded the idea of a trap-door, and it was incontestably shown that egress from the back, top, or sides was impossible."

"Yet the performer was gone?"

"I said that the cabinet appeared to be empty--quite another thing."

"Go on."

"It was a simple arrangement of plate-gla.s.s mirrors fitting closely at the sides and backed by the distinctive pattern of wall-paper with which the rest of the cabinet was covered. Immediately that the doors were closed, the performer drew these false sides outward, so that they met the centre post of the doors at an acute angle. The true side walls were thereby exposed, and, of course, they were papered to correspond with the rest of the interior. Their reflection was doubled in the mirrors, making it appear to the observer that the whole cabinet was open to his vision. The truth was that he saw only half of it, the performer being concealed behind the mirrors. The only possible point at which the illusion could be detected was the angle where the mirrors joined, and this was masked by the centre post at which the double doors met. To conclude the trick, the doors were again closed, the performer swung the mirrors back into place, and, presto! he was back in the cabinet, smiling genially at the gaping crowd."

"Then you think--"

"I know. Lock-box No. 82 was constructed on the same principle in miniature, the letter-slit being placed in such a position that anything deposited in the box fell behind the mirrors, the whole interior remaining apparently visible through the gla.s.s front, and presumably empty. The owner of the box would naturally glance into it before actually using his pa.s.s-key. Obviously, it were a waste of time to go through the form of opening an EMPTY box, and so poor Sydenham never got any of the letters that were daily deposited there, for the receptacle is a large one and the secret place behind the mirrors was almost full. The action of unlocking the box operated upon an interior mechanism that swung back the mirrors at the same instant that the door was pulled open. After seeing my dummy disappear, I tried the experiment, and was amply rewarded.

"There isn't much more to tell. When I saw the letters lying there I knew that it was all right so far as the girl was concerned. I had only to acquaint Miss Sandford with the circ.u.mstances in the case to secure her further co-operation, for, of course, she had never ceased to believe in her lover. She prepared and sent the message which you saw delivered to Sydenham in Sandford's office this afternoon.

"But it was not the same as the one received by him on the actual January 9th. That contained a word, 'yes,' and was signed by her initials; this second one consisted simply of a sprig of heliotrope."

"Do you understand the language of flowers? The heliotrope means, 'Je t'adore,' and Sydenham understood it instantly, as you saw."

"Yes; but why--"

"To repeat the original message would not have impressed him as I wished; it would simply have seemed part of the illusion which he knew perfectly well we were endeavoring to create. The problem was to suddenly startle him by a real communication from V. S., and, above all, to have it of such a nature as to convince him that the cloud between them had finally lifted. Now, without trust and confidence, true love is impossible. The message of the sprig of heliotrope told him all that he had been hungering and longing to hear throughout these terrible two months; the shock was sufficient to drive the normal consciousness from its seat and permit the subliminal self to take control. In other words, it practically put him back in the identical mental mood of the afternoon of January 9th, and that was the crucial point of the whole experiment. Anything more?"

"Who sent the false telegrams?"

"Of course, you would ask that. I don't know."

"Such a monstrous wickedness! It is inconceivable."

"Yes, unless we admit the existence of a spirit of pure malevolence seeking to drive an innocent man to self-destruction for no other motive than that of doing evil for evil's sake. That such an intelligence has been active in this case is certain; or how explain the cheat of the letter-box, a necessary factor in the problem, as you will admit?"

"But you don't know."

"Not yet," answered my friend Indiman.

We dined down-town that evening, and it was about nine o'clock when we called a hackney-coach and started homeward. As we drove on up the Bowery an illuminated transparency caught our eyes.

"'Fair and Bazaar,'" read Indiman. "'Benefit of the United House-smiths' Benevolent a.s.sociation.' What is a house-smith, Thorp?

Evidently we will have to go and find out for ourselves." He pulled the check-cord and gave the driver the new direction. Pure foolishness, of course, but Indiman was not to be put out of his humor.

Up one flight of stairs to a large, low-ceilinged hall that was jammed to suffocation. A score of gayly trimmed booths wherein were displayed various articles of feminine fallals and cheap bric-a-brac, each presided over by a lady house-smith. "Or should it be house-smithess?"

asked Indiman. "Hullo! What's this?"

Behind a long counter covered with red-paper muslin sat a dozen young women of more or less p.r.o.nounced personal charms, and a huge placard announced that, kisses were on sale at the uniform price of fifty cents. "Take your own choice." Smaller cards bore the various cognomens a.s.sumed for the occasion by the fair venders of osculatory delights.

"Cleopatra," "The Fair One with Golden Locks," "Kathleen Mavourneen,"

"Pocahontas," or more simply, albeit not less mysteriously, "Miss A.

B.," or "Mademoiselle X." Of course, each had dressed the part as nearly as might be, and the exhibition was certainly attractive to the masculine eye. In questionable taste, no doubt, but one does not stand upon trifles when it is all for sweet charity's sake.

"My dear Thorp," said Indiman, with the utmost gravity, "have you half a dollar in your pocket? Then come with me," and forthwith we jammed and corkscrewed our way through the crowd until we reached the long counter covered with red-paper muslin.

V

The Ninety-and-nine Kisses

The fair and bazaar of the United House-smiths' Benevolent a.s.sociation was a.s.suredly a tremendous success, and not the least of its attractions was the open market where kisses might be purchased at the ridiculously small price of fifty cents each. But "Cash before delivery" was the motto, and on the counter in front of each young woman stood a bra.s.s bowl in which the purchaser deposited his money--"Free list entirely suspended." One could see that "The Fair One with Golden Locks," a large, full-fed blonde with extraordinarily vivid red cheeks, had been doing a rushing business; her bowl was overflowing with notes and coin. And the others also had done well, all except "Mademoiselle D.," the girl at the far end; she had not made a single sale. A slight little thing, pale and somewhat anxious-looking; no wonder that customers had pa.s.sed her by. Then she looked up, and we both caught our breath. What eyes! Eyes of the purest, serenest gray--gray of that rare quality that holds no tint of either green or blue. Her eyes were her one beauty indeed, but the superlative miracle of loveliness is best seen when it stands alone. And these dolts of house-smiths had pa.s.sed on to sample the pink-and-white confectionery at the other end of the counter.

"One hundred, if you please," and Indiman laid a fifty-dollar bill in the bowl of the girl with the gray eyes. The crowd stopped and gaped, and "Mademoiselle D." turned from white to red and then to white again.

"Bought up the whole stock, boss?" asked a foolish-looking youth whose collar was slowly but surely choking him to death.

"Better take a couple on account," said the pert damsel attached to the young fellow's arm; "they might turn sour on you, Mister Man."

"Give 'em away with a pound of tea," put in a third joker. "Eh, Josie?"

"Let's get away from here," whispered Indiman to me. "The girl looks as though she might faint."

We pushed on through the crowd that continued to chaff us good-naturedly--"joshing" they called it. Then we managed to struggle into a sort of backwater at the side of the dais upon which an alleged string band was trying to make good, as the scornful Miss Josie remarked.

"There's something wrong in this, Thorp," said Indiman to me, in an undertone. "Did you notice the stout man who stood immediately behind her?"

"The chap with one ear a full size larger than the other? Yes, I did."

"He never takes his eyes from her, and I believe that the girl is here against her will."

"Indiman!--" I began, but he cut me short.

"I know it, I tell you, and I'm going to take her away. Do you see that electric-light switch on the wall behind you?"

Back of the musicians' platform was a small wall cupboard holding the usual apparatus for controlling the incandescent lights with which the hall was illuminated. "Pull down both handles when I give the signal,"

he went on, imperturbably.

"What signal?"

Indiman considered. "I'll take one of my kisses," he said, smiling.

"I'll do nothing of the kind."

"Oh yes, you will. Remember now--the instant that I bend down to kiss her."

He was gone, leaving me to curse his folly. I tried to overtake him, but the foolish youth and his Josie blocked my way, intentionally, it seemed; that was part of their joshing of the stranger within the house-smiths' gates. I stepped up on the platform, and looked for Indiman. He had just reached the counter covered with red-paper muslin; he pushed his way up to the girl with the gray eyes and said something to her. She seemed to shrink away. Indiman turned for an instant and looked back at me, then he bent down and kissed her.

Without having had the slightest intention of so doing, I pulled down both handles; the hall was in instant and utter darkness. For a moment the following silence persisted, menacing and deadly; it was as though panic had suddenly reared her frightful head, a wild beast ready to spring.