Second Sight Read Online Free

vision could be checked—is not recognised. In any detective story, whether the author plays honest or dishonest, at least you are always told who the dead man is.”
“There’s something in that,” Sir John nodded. “In all these phantom funerals, the person who sees it never seems to know the dead body, now that you mention it. He sees the procession winding along a path——”
“And afterwards,” interrupted Geoffrey triumphantly, “when a funeral procession does wind along that same path—as funeral processions must at some time wander over every human path there is—the people shake their heads. Ah, three days ago—or three years ago—or three centuries ago—Alick Macdonald, the stalker at Corbreac, foresaw this death. Ah—mysterious!… Now, I mean to say, isn’t it absurd? All joking apart.”
“I think so, Geoffrey,” agreed Lady Marway. “I think you have made it perfectly clear. And now——”
“But, Mother, he hasn’t!”
“No?” Geoffrey raised amused eyebrows.
“Has he?” And Helen turned to Harry.
They were all amused, including Harry, who said to her, pleasantly: “I agree, Helen. He hasn’t. Let us assume that when you go back home you go bang into a funeral and pull your car up to let it pass. You are presently alarmed to find a great number of your friends there. You wonder who can have died. But you cannot tell. Why? Because you cannot see through the coffin.”
“Phew!” breathed Marjory. “We are getting gruesome, aren’t we?”
“What have you to say to that?” Helen asked Geoffrey.
“May I inquire of your counsel if the medium in this particular case recognised the four men who carried the dead body?”
“Did he?” asked Helen.
“He did,” said Harry.
“He mentioned them to you by name?” challenged Geoffrey.
Harry took a moment, then said, “He did.”
They all looked at him. No one asked for the names. At last he continued, “There is no reason why I should not give you the names. It has nothing to do with—uh—anyone in particular.” (They felt that he was deliberately reserving at least part of the truth). “In Alick’s interest, I don’t want to be more definite. He felt the experience so much that I shouldn’t like him to run into any gossip about it. I hope you see what I mean. I had an unusual experience and I was full of it, I admit. But”—he began to smile in his entertaining way—“it’s gone far enough. And now——”
“One minute,” said Geoffrey. “Are you prepared to write down the names?”
“Yes,” said Harry, now smiling cheerfully, “and sign, seal, and deliver them to your banker.”
“And you didn’t see—or hear—anything yourself?” Helen asked.
“Not a thing! Though—now you mention it,” and he laughed, “I did hear something. It was just as the procession had passed. I heard the deep ringing of a ship’s bell in my ears.”
At that moment, the dinner-bell, a rather slow deep-noted one, began ringing. By the way Harry’s head jerked up and his eyes opened—obviously involuntarily—they all saw at once that that was the bell he had heard. But he let the smile come on his face very cunningly. “Of course, as Geoffrey knows,”he said, “a bell ringing in one’s ears is quite a common experience. Usually something to do with the liver, hasn’t it? But it was my conscience—for being late.” He bowed to his hostess. “I do most abjectly apologise. Please don’t wait for me.”
“They must have heard you come in and assumed you would be dressed and in your right mind.” She smiled. “I shall try to forgive you.”
“It would take more than a ghost”, said Helen, “to stop