И'3fг'3fо'3fр'3fь'3f Х'3fо'3fх'3fл'3fо'3fв'3f - CONTENTS

"It is Chinese," declared Jack. "I have seen an exactly similar one in my uncle's collection – he is a great collector of Chinese porcelain, you know, and I remember noticing a jar just like this a short time ago."

"The Chinese jar," mused Lavington. He remained a minute or two lost in thought, then raised his head suddenly, a curious light shining in his eyes. "Hartington, how long has your uncle had that jar?"

"How long? I really don't know."

"Think. Did he buy it lately?"

"I don't know – yes, I believe he did."

"Less than two months ago? The Turners left Heather Cottage just two months ago."

"Yes, I believe it was."

"Your uncle attends country sales sometimes?"

"He always goes to sales."

"Then there is a probability that he bought this particular piece of porcelain at the sale of the Turners’ things. A curious coincidence. Hartington, you must find out from your uncle at once where he bought this jar."

Jack's face fell.

"I'm afraid that's impossible. Uncle George is away on the Continent. I don't even know where to write to him."

"How long will he be away?"

"Three weeks to a month at least."

There was a silence. Felise sat looking anxiously from one man to the other.

"Is there nothing that we can do?" she asked.

"Yes, there is one thing," said Lavington. "It is unusual, perhaps, but I believe that it will succeed. Hartington, you must get hold of that jar. Bring it down here, and, if Mademoiselle permits, we will spend a night in Heather Cottage, taking the blue jar with us."

"What do you think will happen?" Jack asked uneasily.

"I have not the slightest idea – but I honestly believe that the mystery will be solved.

Felise clasped her hands. "It is a wonderful idea," she exclaimed.

Her eyes were alight with enthusiasm. Jack did not feel nearly so enthusiastic – in fact, he was afraid of it, but nothing would have forced him to admit the fact before Felise. The doctor acted as though his suggestion were the most natural one in the world.

"When can you get the jar?" asked Felise, turning to Jack.

"To-morrow," said the latter, unwillingly.

Re went to his uncle's house the following evening and took away the jar in question. He was more than ever convinced when he saw it again that it was the identical one pictured in the water colour sketch.

It wase leveno 'clockw henh ea ndL avingtona rrived at Heather Cottage. Felise was on the look-out for them, and opened the door softly before they had time to knock.

"Come in," she whispered. "My father is asleep upstairs, and we must not wake him. I have made coffee for you in here."

She led the way into a small cosy sitting-room.

Jack unwrapped the Chinese jar. Felise gasped as her eyes fell on it.

"But yes, but yes," she cried eagerly. "That is it – I would know it anywhere."

Meanwhile Lavington was making his own preparations. He removed all the things from a small table and set it in the middle of the room. Round it he placed three chairs. Then, taking the blue jar from Jack, he placed it in the centre of the table.

"Now," he said, "we are ready. Turn off the lights, and let us sit round the table in the darkness."

The others obeyed him. Lavington's voice spoke again out fo the darkness.

"Think of nothing – or of everything. Do not force the mind. It is possible that one of us has mediumistic powers. If so, that person will go into a trance. Remember, there is nothing to fear. Cast out fear" from your hearts, and drift-drift."

It was not fear that Jack felt – it was panic. And he was almost certain that Felise felt the same way. Suddenly he heard her voice, low and terrified.

"Something terrible is going to happen. I feel it."

"Cast out fear," said Lavington. "Do not fight against the influence."

The darkness seemed to get darker and the silence more acute. And nearer and nearer came that indefinable sense of menace.

Jack felt himself choking – stifling – the evil thing was very near.

And then the moment of conflict passed. He was drifting, drifting down stream – his lids closed – peace – darkness…

Jack stirred slightly"-'-. His head was heavy – heavy as lead. Where was he?

Sunshine ... birds ... He lay staring up at the sky.

Then it all came back to him. The little sitting-room. Felise and the doctor. What had happened?

He sat up and looked round him. He was lying not far from the cottage. No one else was near him. He took out his watch. To his surprise it registered half past twelve.

Jack struggled to his feet", and ran as fast as he could in the direction of the cottage. They must have been alarmed by his failure to come out of the trance, and carried him out into the open air.

Arrived at the cottage, he knocked loudly on the door. But there was no answer, and no signs of life about it. They must have gone off to get help. Or else – Jack felt an indefinable fear invade him. What had happened last night?

He made his way back to the hotel as quickly as possible. He was about to make some inquiries at the office, when he got a colossal punch in the ribs which nearly knocked him off his feet. Turning in some indignation, he saw a whitehaired old gentleman merrily laughing.

"Didn't expect me, my boy. Didn't expect me, hey?" said this individual.

"Why, Uncle George, I thought you were miles away – it Italy somewhere."

"Ah! but I wasn't. Landed at Dover last night. Thought I'd motor up to town and stop here to see you on the way. And what did I find. Out all night, hey? Nice goings on" "Uncle George," Jack checked him firmly. "I've got the most extraordinary story to tell you. I dare say you won't believe it."

"I dare say I shan't," laughed the old man. "But do your best, my boy."

"But I must have something to eat," continued Jack. "I'm hungry."

He led the way to the dining-room, and over a substantial meal, he told the whole story.

"And God knows what's become of them," he ended.

His uncle seemed on the verge of apoplexy.

"The jar," he managed to cry out at last. “THE BLUE JAR!” What's become of that?"

Jack stared at him without understanding, but under the torrent of words that followed he began to-understand.

It came with a rush: "Worth ten thousand pounds at least – offer from Hoggenheimer, the American millionaire – only one of its kind in the world – what have you done with my BLUE JAR?"

Jack rushed from the room. He must find Lavington. The young lady at the office eyed him coldly.

"Dr. Lavington left late last night – by motor. He left a note for you."

Jack tore it open. It was short and to the point.

'My Dear Young Friend, Is the day of the supernatural over? Kindest regards from Felise, invalid father, and myself. We have twelve hours start, which is quite enough.

Yours ever, Ambrose Lavington, Doctor of the Soul'

NOTES:

topped drive – senpaamrbssifc

petrified – a oqeneseHMN

course – sp. naowapza paa

shrank back from him – ovnpasyaa

shellshock – KOHTp3NB

delusion – raїmoqeїaqїa

hoax – o6Mas, myvza

rumours – cayxe

acute strain – cmrr

damned callous – sepvoacrce

you suggestioned yourself – aїi y6epeїe

not consciously – nopcoasaveaaїo

spirits – pyxї

from all I can make out – їaczoabzo

inquiries – cnpaBKN

folly – rїynOCTb

the house is haunted – B pOMC

Alas! – Vabi!

faded away – paccvaaa

nightmare – KOIIIMap

Cast out fear – ov6pocbve cvpax

stirred slightly – czrerza

struggled to his feet – c vpypoM

on the verge of apoplexy – ea rpaze ypapa

Comprehension:

1) What happened to Jack Hartington one morning?