Part 63 (1/2)

They had all seen what they now saw almost as soon as he spoke. A letter was descending from the ceiling. It spun round slowly, like a leaf falling from a tree without being driven by the wind. It just touched Don Luis and alighted on the floor between two legs of the table.

Picking up the paper and handing it to M. Desmalions, Don Luis said:

”There you are, Monsieur le Prefet. This is the fourth letter, due last night.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THE ”HATER”

M. Desmalions looked at him without understanding, and looked from him to the ceiling. Perenna said:

”Oh, there's no witchcraft about it; and, though no one has thrown that letter from above, though there is not the smallest hole in the ceiling, the explanation is quite simple!”

”Quite simple, is it?” said M. Desmalions.

”Yes, Monsieur le Prefet. It all looks like an extremely complicated conjuring trick, done almost for fun. Well, I say that it is quite simple--and, at the same time, terribly tragic. Sergeant Mazeroux, would you mind drawing back the curtains and giving us as much light as possible?”

While Mazeroux was executing his orders and M. Desmalions glancing at the fourth letter, the contents of which were unimportant and merely confirmed the previous ones, Don Luis took a pair of steps which the workmen had left in the corner, set it up in the middle of the room and climbed to the top, where, seated astride, he was able to reach the electric chandelier.

It consisted of a broad, circular band in bra.s.s, beneath which was a festoon of crystal pendants. Inside were three lamps placed at the corners of a bra.s.s triangle concealing the wires.

He uncovered the wires and cut them. Then be began to take the whole fitting to pieces. To hasten matters, he asked for a hammer and broke up the plaster all round the clamps that held the chandelier in position.

”Lend me a hand, please,” he said to Mazeroux.

Mazeroux went up the steps; and between them they took hold of the chandelier and let it slide down the uprights. The detectives caught it and placed it on the table with some difficulty, for it was much heavier than it looked.

On inspection, it proved to be surmounted by a cubical metal box, measuring about eight inches square, which box, being fastened inside the ceiling between the iron clamps, had obliged Don Luis to knock away the plaster that concealed it.

”What the devil's this?” exclaimed M. Desmalions.

”Open it for yourself, Monsieur le Prefet: there's a lid to it,”

said Perenna.

M. Desmalions raised the lid. The box was filled with springs and wheels, a whole complicated and detailed mechanism resembling a piece of clockwork.

”By your leave, Monsieur le Prefet,” said Don Luis.

He took out one piece of machinery and discovered another beneath it, joined to the first by the gearing of two wheels; and the second was more like one of those automatic apparatuses which turn out printed slips.

Right at the bottom of the box, just where the box touched the ceiling, was a semicircular groove, and at the edge of it was a letter ready for delivery.

”The last of the five letters,” said Don Luis, ”doubtless continuing the series of denunciations. You will notice, Monsieur le Prefet, that the chandelier originally had a fourth lamp in the centre. It was obviously removed when the chandelier was altered, so as to make room for the letters to pa.s.s.”

He continued his detailed explanations:

”So the whole set of letters was placed here, at the bottom. A clever piece of machinery, controlled by clockwork, took them one by one at the appointed time, pushed them to the edge of the groove concealed between the lamps and the pendants, and projected them into s.p.a.ce.”