“You must have started early,” you say. “And yet you had a good drive in a dog-cart before you reached the train station. The marks are fresh. There is no vehicle but a dog-cart which throws up mud in that way, and then only when you sit on the left-hand side of the driver.”

“You are perfectly correct,” she says. “I started from home before six this morning.”

“Of course,” you reply without surprise. “Please, continue your narrative.”

“Well, I could not sleep that night. A vague feeling of doom impressed me. The wind was howling outside, and the rain was beating and splashing against the windows. Suddenly, I heard the scream of a terrified woman. I knew that it was my sister. I sprang from my bed and rushed into the corridor. As I opened my door, I seemed to hear a low whistle, just as my sister described. A few moments later, I heard a clanging sound, as if a mass of metal had fallen.

“I ran down the passage. My sister’s door was unlocked and moving slowly upon its hinges. I stared at it in horror, not knowing what was about to walk from her room. By the light of the corridor, I saw my sister appear. Her face was white with terror, her hands groping for help. Her whole figure swayed back and forth. I ran to her and threw my arms around her, but at that moment she fell to the ground. As I bent over her, she shrieked out in a voice which I shall never forget, ‘Helen! It was the band! The speckled band!’

“There was something else which she would have said, and she stabbed with her finger in the direction of the doctor’s room. But a fresh convulsion seized her. I rushed out, calling loudly for my stepfather. When he reached my sister’s side, it was too late. Such was the dreadful end of my beloved sister.”

“One moment,” you say. “Are you sure about this whistle and metallic sound?”

“It is my strong impression that I heard it. Yet I may possibly have been mistaken.”

“Was your sister dressed?”

“No, she was in her night-dress. In her right hand was the charred stump of a match, and in her left a match box.”

“Showing that she had struck a light and looked around her room. That is important.”

“The police investigated the case. They were unable to find any cause of death. My evidence showed that the door had been locked. The windows were blocked by shutters with broad iron bars, which were also locked. The walls were quite solid, and the flooring was also examined with the same result. It is certain, therefore, that my sister was alone when she met her end. Besides, there were no marks of any violence upon her.”

“How about poison?”

“The doctors examined her for it, without success.”

“What do you think that she died of, then?”

“It is my belief that she died of pure fear and shock, though I cannot imagine what frightened her.”

“I know gypsy people are common to the area. Were there gypsies nearby at the time?”

“Yes, there are nearly always some camping at the edge of our property.”

“Ah, and what did you gather from this allusion to a band—a speckled band?”

“Sometimes I have thought that it referred to these very gypsies. She may have been referring to the spotted handkerchiefs which so many of them wear.”

You shake your head like a man who is far from being satisfied. “These are very deep waters,” you say. “Please go on with your narrative.”