the cell was intended, it is, of
course, impossible to say; but that it must have been meant as a human
trap there is little doubt. The inventor certainly exercised no small
ingenuity when he devised his diabolical plot, for it was obvious that
the door, which was made of iron, would swing towards the coffin
wherever it happened to be placed. Thus the door would shut if the
coffin were _inside the cell_, and would remain open if the coffin were
_brought out_. A cleverer method for simulating a spiritual agency it
would be hard to find. Of course, the monk must have known well that
magnetic iron-ore never loses its quality and would ensure the deception
remaining potent for ages."

"But how did you discover by means of our watches?" asked Clinton.

"Any one who understands magnetism can reply to that," I said. "It is a
well-known fact that a strong magnet plays havoc with watches. The fact
of both our watches going wrong first gave me a clue to the mystery."

Later in the day the whole of this strange affair was explained to Miss
Curzon, and not long afterwards the passage and entrance to the chapel
were bricked up.

It is needless to add that six months later the pair were married, and,
I believe, are as happy as they deserve.

III

THE MYSTERY OF THE FELWYN TUNNEL

I was making experiments of some interest at South Kensington, and hoped
that I had perfected a small but not unimportant discovery, when, on
returning home one evening in late October in the year 1893, I found a
visiting card on my table. On it were inscribed the words, "Mr. Geoffrey
Bainbridge." This name was quite unknown to me, so I rang the bell and
inquired of my servant who the visitor had been. He described him as a
gentleman who wished to see me on most urgent business, and said further
that Mr. Bainbridge intended to call again later in the evening. It was
with both curiosity and vexation that I awaited the return of the
stranger. Urgent business with me generally meant a hurried rush to one
part of the country or the other. I did not want to leave London just
then; and when at half-past nine Mr. Geoffrey Bainbridge was ushered
into my room, I received him with a certain coldness which he could not
fail to perceive. He was a tall, well-dressed, elderly man. He
immediately plunged into the object of his visit.

"I hope you do not consider my unexpected presence an intrusion, Mr.
Bell," he said. "But I have heard of you from our mutu