“At the end of the service in the Chapel, Sir Alfred Jarnock, his son Mr. George Jarnock, and the Rector had stood for a couple of minutes, talking, whilst old Bellett the butler went ’round, putting out the candles.

“Suddenly, the Rector remembered that he had left his small prayer book on the Communion table in the morning; he turned, and asked the butler to get it for him before he blew out the chancel candles.

“Now I have particularly called your attention to this because it is important in that it provides witnesses in a most fortunate manner at an extraordinary moment.  You see, the Rector’s turning to speak to Bellett had naturally caused both Sir Alfred Jarnock and his son to glance in the direction of the butler, and it was at this identical instant and whilst all three were looking at him, that the old butler was stabbed—­there, full in the candlelight, before their eyes.

“I took the opportunity to call early upon the Rector, after I had questioned Mr. George Jarnock, who replied to my queries in place of Sir Alfred Jarnock, for the older man was in a nervous and shaken condition as a result of the happening, and his son wished him to avoid dwelling upon the scene as much as possible.

“The Rector’s version was clear and vivid, and he had evidently received the astonishment of his life.  He pictured to me the whole affair—­Bellett, up at the chancel gate, going for the prayer book, and absolutely alone; and then the blow, out of the Void, he described it; and the force prodigious—­the old man being driven headlong into the body of the Chapel.  Like the kick of a great horse, the Rector said, his benevolent old eyes bright and intense with the effort he had actually witnessed, in defiance of all that he had hitherto believed.

“When I left him, he went back to the writing which he had put aside when I appeared.  I feel sure that he was developing the first unorthodox sermon that he had ever evolved.  He was a dear old chap, and I should certainly like to have heard it.

“The last man I visited was the butler.  He was, of course, in a frightfully weak and shaken condition, but he could tell me nothing that did not point to there being a Power abroad in the Chapel.  He told the same tale, in every minute particle, that I had learned from the others.  He had been just going up to put out the altar candles and fetch the Rector’s book, when something struck him an enormous blow high up on the left breast and he was driven headlong into the aisle.

“Examination had shown that he had been stabbed by the dagger—­of which I will tell you more in a moment—­that hung always above the altar.  The weapon had entered, fortunately some inches above the heart, just under the collarbone, which had been broken by the stupendous force of the blow, the dagger itself being driven clean through the body, and out through the scapula behind.

“The poor old fellow could not talk much, and I soon left him; but what he had told me was sufficient to make it unmistakable that no living person had been within yards of him when he was attacked; and, as I knew, this fact was verified by three capable and responsible witnesses, independent of Bellett himself.