Had her hand brought it there?
Hardly, if it came from the top of the mantel toward which I now
turned in my course of investigation.
I have already mentioned this mantel more than once. This I could
hardly avoid, since in and about it lay the heart of the mystery for
which the room was remarkable. But though I have thus freely spoken
of it, and though it was not absent from my thoughts for a moment,
I had not ventured to approach it beyond a certain safe radius. Now,
in looking to see if I might not lessen this radius, I experienced
that sudden and overwhelming interest in its every feature which
attaches to all objects peculiarly associated with danger.
I even took a step toward it, holding up my lamp so that a stray ray
struck the faded surface of an old engraving hanging over the
fireplace.
It was the well-known one - in Washington at least - of Benjamin
Franklin at the Court of France; interesting no doubt in a general
way, but scarcely calculated to hold the eye at so critical an
instant. Neither did the shelf below call for more than momentary
attention, for it was absolutely bare. So was the time-worn, if not
blood-stained hearth, save for the impenetrable shadow cast over it
by the huge bulk of the great settle standing at its edge.
I have already described the impression made on me at my first
entrance by this ancient and characteristic article of furniture.
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