“Editor’s Note.  Just as we go to press, a cable announces the terrible death of Doctor Merrill, the writer of the above notes.  He was attacked by wild animals while alone in a South American jungle, and torn to pieces.”

There was a queer little silence among the company.  No one seemed inclined for speech.  They looked at one another in dumb, wondering horror.  Then Quest drew a penknife from his pocket and with a turn of his wrist forced the lock of the diary.  They all watched him with fascinated eyes.  It was something to escape from their thoughts.  They leaned over as he spread the book out before him.  Those first two sentences were almost in the light of a dedication: 

“For ten years I have protected my master, Professor Edgar Ashleigh, at the cost of my peace of mind, my happiness, my reputation.  This book, even though it be too late to help me, shall clear my reputation.”

Quest closed the volume.

“French,” he decided, “we must find the Professor.  Will you have your men search the house and grounds immediately?”

The Inspector left the room like a dazed man.  They could hear him giving orders outside.

“The next page,” Lenora begged.  “Just one page more!”

Quest hesitated for a moment.  Then he turned it over.  All three read again: 

“Ten years of horror, struggling all the while to keep him from that other self, that thing of bestiality, to keep his horrible secret from the world, to cover up his crimes, even though their shadow should rest upon me.  Now Sanford Quest has come.  Will this mean discovery?”

“Another page,” Lenora faltered.

“No more,” Quest said.  “Don’t you see where it is leading us?  We have the truth here.  Wait!”

He strode hastily to the door.  French and one of the plain-clothes men were descending the stairs.

“Well?” Quest asked breathlessly.

“The Professor is not in the house,” French reported.  “We are going to search the grounds.”

Quest returned to the library.  Lenora clung to his arm.  The diary lay still upon the table.

Quest opened the volume slowly.  Again they all read together: 

“The evil nature is growing stronger every day.  He is developing a sort of ferocious cunning to help him in his crimes.  He wanders about in the dark, wearing a black velvet suit with holes for his eyes, and leaving only his hands exposed.  I have watched him come into a half-darkened room and one can see nothing but the hands and the eyes; sometimes if he closes his eyes, only the hands.”

“Mrs. Rheinholdt!” Quest muttered.  “Wait.  I know where that suit is.”

He hastened to a cupboard at the farther end of the room, snatched some garments from it and vanished into the hall.

“One moment, girls,” he said.  “I see now how he did it.  Wait.  I’ll show you.”