over. Castine was
mumbling. Only his wife seemed to retain her defiance.

"The skill of the voodoo priests in the concoction of strange draughts
from the native herbs of Hayti is well known," Kennedy began again.
"There are among them fast and slow poisons, poisons that will kill
almost instantly and others that are guaged in strength to accumulate
and resemble wasting away and slow death.

"I know that in all such communities today no one will admit that there
is such a thing still as the human sacrifice, 'the lamb without horns.'
But there is on record a case where a servant was supposed to have died.
The master ordered the burial, and it took place. But the grave was
robbed. Later the victim was resuscitated and sacrificed.

"Most uncanny of the poisons is that which will cause the victim to pass
into an unconscious condition so profound that it may easily be mistaken
for death. It is almost cataleptic. Such is the case here. My
respiration calorimeter shows that from that body there are still coming
the products of respiration, that there is still heat in it. It must
have been that peculiar poison of the voodoo priests that was used."

Racing on now, not giving any of us a chance even to think of the weird
thing, except to shudder instinctively, Kennedy drew from his pocket and
slapped down on a table the photographic records that had been taken by
his home-made wireless recording apparatus.

"From Mr. Burke," he said, as he did so, "I received the hint that many
messages were being transmitted by wireless, secretly perhaps, from the
_Haytien_. I wanted to read those messages that were being flashed so
quietly and secretly through the air. How could it be done? I managed
to install down at the dock an apparatus known as the capillary
electrometer. By the use of this almost unimaginably delicate instrument
I was able to drag down literally out of the air the secrets that seemed
so well hidden from all except those for whom they were intended.
Listen."

He took the roll of paper from the drum and ran his finger along it
hastily, translating to himself the Morse code as he passed from one
point to another.

"Here," cried Craig excitedly. "'Leon out of way for time safely.
Revolution suppressed before Forsythe can make other arrangements.
Conspiracy frustrated.' Just a moment. Here's another. 'Have engaged
bridal suite at Hotel La Coste. Communicate with me there after
tomorrow.'"

Still holding the wireless