Below Suspicion
“"The pews are broken down and it's in a dreadful state, but it's nothing but an ordinary chapel!" "True," agreed Dr. Fell. He added, as though irrelevantly: "Sir Thomas Fletcher, the original baronet, isn't in the Dictionary of National Biography, but his son Harry, who was mixed up with that curious devil-worshipping society known as the Monks of Medmenham, has an inch or two of print. Come with me." Butler, so deep in his own thoughts, never remembered where Dr. Fell led them. It was growing ...late, Butler reflected. His vitality must be ebbing. Or Gold-teeth would not have been in his mind at all. Gold-teeth, face to face and in light, would be no problem at all. Here. . . .
Somewhere, under a window, a large trap was being raised in the floor. They were descending, one by one, a staircase just wide enough to accommodate Dr. Fell. Bierce, last in the line, closed the trap after them.
(Wake up, you fool!) Different, all different! The staircase was carpeted in some soft, deep material.MoreLess
Somewhere, under a window, a large trap was being raised in the floor. They were descending, one by one, a staircase just wide enough to accommodate Dr. Fell. Bierce, last in the line, closed the trap after them.
(Wake up, you fool!) Different, all different! The staircase was carpeted in some soft, deep material.MoreLess
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